Her Imaginary Husband (Contemporary Romance) (3 page)

As the week progressed, Will seemed ever-present and ever-smiling, quick with a compliment or a courtly gesture. Nikki couldn’t, for the life of her, understand why his wife had divorced him when he was so perpetually charming. It was the strangest predicament Nikki had ever been in because, unlike Flip-Flop Man, who was totally repulsive, Will Carlin was like smooth chocolate incarnate. Hard to resist. But he also tended to lean in close and whisper innuendo. Although it was nice to feel wanted, his proximity felt forward.
I don’t date players!

Coach caught up with her in the parking lot on Friday. Bent over a pile of papers in the back seat of her car, Nikki didn’t hear him coming.

Slap!

She straightened so fast that she bonked the back of her head on the car door frame.

“Oooh, sorry, Nikki!” he said. “I didn’t mean to surprise you like that. Are you all right?”

She rubbed the new bump on her skull and glared. “Tell me you did not just slap my behind. Tell me a bird shot a really big rubber band at me and flew away because I would believe that more.”

“Sorry,” he said, hands in the air in surrender. “I slap the boys all the time on the football field, and I forget myself.”

“Oh, well, if I accidentally rap your knuckles with a ruler, you’ll cut me some slack, too, right?”

Coach laughed and took a step back. “So, you have plans this weekend? Last chance at freedom before the grading starts,” he said.

Is Gayle right? Does he flirt with all the women? Dang, he smells good.

“I was thinking I could show you some of the more intimate bars in Eastmont.” He leaned his elbow on the roof of the car, pulling his polo shirt taut across his pecs. His whole aura exuded virility, and it sucked all the moisture from Nikki’s mouth.
A date sure would be a nice change. And he’s mighty hunky.

Something twinkling in his eyes set off a warning alarm in her brain.

“Uh.” Nikki searched the parking lot for some clue of an excuse.

Just then Officer Ross rolled up in his security patrol car and lowered his window. “Everything okay here? This is a no loitering zone, you know,” he said with a mock-serious tone. “The Friday before Labor Day, this place should be empty.”

“Hi!” said Nikki too eagerly.

“No car trouble?”

“We’re all fine, Officer,” said Coach. He clenched his jaw and ran his fingers through his hair. “Just making plans for the weekend.”

“Oh?” Ross glanced at Nikki.

“We’re not making plans
together
.” She waved her arms between them. “We were just talking.”

“Right. What?” Coach looked off-balance for a moment.

“Pretty soon you’ll be married to your work here.” Ross smiled sympathetically in the way all the teachers did when they implied her life was about to be forfeit to endless grading and committee meetings.

Married. Did he say married?
Nikki had a brain flash.
“Yes, actually! My husband’s taking me out tonight to celebrate my new job really starting.”

“Your
husband?
” Coach coughed.

“Isn’t he sweet?” She grinned and bounced on her heels like a giddy teen girl. “He’s always doing such thoughtful things for me.”

“I didn’t know you were married.”

“Oh yes. Newlyweds. You know how it is.” Nikki winked knowingly.

“What’s his name?” asked Ross. “Your husband, I mean. I’ll need to meet him so I don’t arrest him if he comes to take you out to lunch one day.”

Nikki laughed a little too loudly at this, suddenly panicking about the lie she had birthed. “His name?”
Something neutral,
she thought.
Something common.
“Mike. Mike Fallon. He’s… a pilot.”

Will winced, and Nikki realized her unintentional sting.

“Congratulations,” said Ross. He waved and drove off as Nikki slipped into the driver’s seat.

Starting her engine, Nikki beamed up at Coach. “Well, good-bye. Have a great weekend!”

And just like that, Nikki was married.

“Some best friend you are.” Janna slid into the pew beside Nikki as the introduction for the first hymn started playing and everyone rose to their feet. “I didn’t even get to throw you a bachelorette party!”

“That’s because I’m not actually married, stupid,” said Nikki.

“So what’s he like?”

“Who?”

“Your husband.”

“Sh! Someone’ll hear you.”

“Not over
that
organ music,” said Janna. The congregation croaked out “A Mighty Fortress is our God”, and Janna pinched Nikki’s arm. “Who’d you marry? I want details.”

“I told them he was a pilot.” Nikki kept her eyes on the person leading the music.

Janna snorted and flopped her head back in a loud cackle, earning more than a few disapproving glares from the poodle-headed ladies across the aisle. “Around here?” she whispered. “A crop duster, maybe, but a pilot, Nikki? How could you lie like that?”

“I had to do it quickly. I was under pressure. You know I’m a crappy liar,” whined Nikki. “Now shut up and sing.”

They joined their voices with the crowd, drowned out by the Von Trapp wannabes in the row behind them. Nikki’s mind wandered to all of the things that made her totally unmarriageable—first and foremost being that she was mostly afraid of dating grown-up men who might have grown-up expectations about what a date should include. By the time the song ended, she forgot to sit down in her fresh gloom.

Janna tugged at Nikki’s sleeve and she landed with a thunk beside her. “You’re going to need a ring, you know. And not some boring band. It’s got to sparkle. You married Top Gun, after all.”

“I hate Tom Cruise, and you know it,” said Nikki.

“So how hot is he?” whispered Janna after a few minutes.

“Huh?”

“How hot is he?”

Nikki turned and squinted at her. “Janna, are you missing the bit about him being imaginary?”

“Not your husband. Your lecherous love interest.”

Nikki’s cheeks flushed. “Will Carlin is
not
my love interest.”

The woman behind them leaned forward and tapped Nikki on the shoulder. “Could you please keep it down? My children are trying to take notes on the sermon.”

“Oh, they’ll want to take notes on what
I’m
saying,” whispered Janna.

Nikki closed her eyes so no one could see them roll and held the hymnal over her mouth. Janna shook with smug, silent laughter, something she did so often that it had become like a workout regimen for her. Nikki didn’t know why the world was so funny to Janna. Or why her mascara never ran when she cried laughing.

Nikki pulled out her phone and did a quick search of the Riverview High website. “Here,” she said, shoving the screen in Janna’s face. “He even looks good in a school photo. What’s up with that?”

Janna repositioned the phone to get a better look. “Oh my—”

Nikki smacked the back of Janna’s head. “Don’t say that in here.”

Mrs. Von Trapp leaned forward and ground her teeth. “Do you
mind?
”

“No, I’m good. Thanks,” said Janna.

Nikki sank lower in her seat.

They managed to feign reverence for another five minutes during which time Nikki tried not to think about Will Carlin. Mistake. While she was yawning at the stuffiness of the room, Janna leaned over and asked, “Seriously, how hot is his bod because his shoulders—?”

“Stop it!” blurted Nikki, astonished that Janna could read her thoughts. A rustle of annoyance spiraled around them.

Janna slouched next to her and held up her program to block her whispers from onlookers. “Well?”

“Janna, he’s a player. It doesn’t matter how cute he is.”

“So he must be hot.”

Nikki sighed. “Yes. Yes, he his. Exceedingly hot. Can we listen to the sermon?”

“So why not go out with him?” Janna folded her arms across her chest and turned to Nikki as if there was nothing going on in the front of the room.

The oldest of the ribboned girls behind them poked Nikki with her pencil. “You shouldn’t be talking about that stuff in church.”

Janna crossed her eyes. “Judge not that ye be not judged, kiddo.”

At that moment, everyone stood to sing again. Janna grabbed Nikki’s shoulder between two sharp fingers and dragged her down the side aisle and into the foyer.

“What are you doing? You’re making a scene!”

“You’ve had enough religion for today,” she said. Nodding curtly at a teenager playing a game on his phone, she palmed Nikki’s back and pushed her out into the sunshine. “Tell me why you can’t just date this guy, this Coach Hottie?”

“Janna, I’m 99.9% sure I’m not his type.”

“He’s chasing you, isn’t he?”

“He’s only looking for one thing, according to Gayle.”

Janna planted her hands on her hips. “Look, I’m not saying you have to go all the way with him. Just let him spend a little money on you. Enjoy his big buffness. Find out if his lips are useful for anything but screaming at the team.”

Nikki hesitated and glanced back at the door to the church. “I’m not that kind of woman. I value honesty, integrity—”

“Says the woman who lied about being married.”

“You’re not helping!” Nikki groaned, guilt darkening her eyes.
How do I explain that I want to be pursued, but…slowly?
“I just would like to know that a guy wants more than my bod.”

“You never show your bod.”

“Not until recently, and have you noticed the drop off in interest from guys?”

“You still have Flip-Flop Man.”

Nikki slapped Janna’s arm. “He’s disgusting, and you know it. I have standards, after all.”

“So you’re judging him by his bod?”

Rolling her eyes, Nikki said, “And his blatant lack of a personality.”

“He
has
a personality,” goaded Janna.

“Not one you should take out in public.”

“Would you prefer I snag the guy myself?” suggested Janna in a sing-song voice.

Nikki grimaced. “Ew!”

Laughing, Janna checked her reflection in her compact. “Not Flip-Flop. The Coach. He’s got those dreamy big eyes and strong jaw.”

“No!”

“The rest of him is that yummy, huh?” She snapped the compact shut and dropped it into her purse.

“Shut up.” Nikki turned and started walking back into the church. “I’m too inexperienced with men to be having this conversation. I don’t know how to play a player. Or even exactly what that means.”

Janna quickly caught up with her and looped her arm through Nikki’s. “You’re going to regret this.”

“Going to church?”

“No, this whole being married thing. Mark my words,” she said, wagging a finger as they re-entered the chapel to find the pastor praying. “This is going to come back and bite you in the butt.”

The congregation exclaimed in unison, “Amen!”

Nikki was breezing through her highly rehearsed
welcome-to-the-first-day-of-class
speech when a caveman-like voice interrupted her train of thought. “Where’s the teacher?”

Squinting at the back, she saw a student standing in the doorway looking more than a little bewildered. Someone muttered, “Loser.”

“Um, right here,” said Nikki, waving.

The kid looked at her, taking his time to focus. “Nuh-uh.”

Giggling ensued.

Nikki lifted her lanyard with the laminated ID card and clump of brassy keys. “Yuh-huh,” she said. “I’ve got the keys.”

“You look like a kid,” he said.

Nikki glanced down at her petite frame. “Well, thanks for the compliment. My skin care products must be working.”

The class rippled with laughter. The intruder, however, remained stoic. Trying to hold back her annoyance, Nikki asked, “Can I help you?”

He waved vaguely at the door. “Tell the teacher she forgot to put out the attendance sheet. I’ll be back.” Nikki’s face flushed as he waddled out the door. Mouthing her best Terminator impression,
I’ll be back
, she quickly rifled through the stack of papers on her desk.
Attendance sheets. Where are the attendance sheets? Who cares about attendance sheets?

“They’re in the inbox on your file cabinet,” said a lanky boy with shaggy blonde hair and glasses.

She checked, and sure enough, they were there. Winking and sticking her tongue out at the same time, she said, “Thanks. You’re a life-saver.”

“Dude, she winked at you!” called a boy from the back.

“She stuck her tongue out, too. I think that balances out any threat of harassment charges,” answered the boy in glasses drily.

Nikki stifled a laugh behind the attendance sheets.
Okay, I like this kid
, she thought. “We interrupt that riveting introduction to Freshman English for this exciting roll call procedure. You know the drill.”

The kids smirked or looked blank depending on how much sugar they’d already consumed, and Nikki stared down at the list, dreading the fact that she’d have to memorize all their names quickly or run the risk of them playing tricks on her. She managed not to slaughter any of the pronunciation except for the Czech boy, whose twelve-letter surname contained one vowel, and the Tongan girl whose name was determined to counterbalance that. The kid in glasses was named Robert—not Rob, Robbie or Bob—
Robert
. Nikki suspected he’d been home schooled for a few years because he talked like an adult and looked as fashion-conscious as a termite. She finished calling roll with no evidence of stowaways, and clipped the relevant sheets to the hook outside the door. The attendance aide was just rounding the corner. She gave him a thumbs-up and shut the door.

“Now, where was I?”

Stupor. Yawns.

“It’s early, isn’t it?”

A few nods and groans. Two kids already had their heads down, trying to sleep.

Nikki clapped her hands. “Well, let’s wake up, shall we? Anyone up for a jog?” That woke them up. “We’ll run laps around the room until we’re awake. How does that sound?”

“I’m in!” called a wiry girl with a huge, black, messy bun and perfect olive skin. She was on her feet and trotting down the aisle in a second.

Nikki had not expected anyone to take her up on the idea, but the girl jogged around the perimeter, and within seconds, the class was chanting, “Sam-mi! Sam-mi! Sam-mi!” Nikki took a mental note:
Okay, that was Samantha. I don’t think I’ll forget her name any time soon.

After three laps, Sammi made her way back to her seat as everyone clapped and fist pumped. Laughing, Nikki lifted both arms. “Woohoo!”

“Is everything all right in here?” boomed an adult male voice.

Nikki froze. Officer Ross stood at the door, arms folded across his chest. His surprised look made everyone laugh.

“Ah, yeah. We’re good,” said Nikki, dusting her jacket shoulders off as if her fists had been raised for that very purpose.

“We’re awake now!” cheered Sammi.

Ross tossed a chin at Nikki, but addressed the class. “Is your teacher behaving? Is she doing all right?”

“She’s doing great!” shouted a few voices.

Ross cocked an eyebrow at Nikki. “Well, carry on, then.”



“How was your first day?”

“Hi, Mom.” Nikki closed her eyes and massaged the bridge of her nose.

“I’m so proud of you, Baby! All grown up and teaching elementary school.”

“High school, Ma.” Nikki flopped back on her pillow, wearied instantly by her mother’s call. The laundry would have to wait.

“Yes, well it should have been elementary school because everyone knows men are intimidated by women who know too much, and high school teachers know too much.”

Like you should be giving me advice on how not to be intimidating.
“It’ll be my little secret, Ma. If people ask what I do for a living, I’ll tell them I’m still at Main Street Market.”

“Don’t sass your mother.”

Meriwether chose that moment to jump onto the bed from the nightstand, startling Nikki into a yelp.

“What was that?” Ma’s voice sent a frosty mist through the receiver.

“Nothing, Ma. Meriwether just surprised me.”

“That cat!” Nikki could envision her mother’s sneer. “You’re going to end up the crazy cat lady, Nikki.”

“Ma, one cat does not a crazy cat lady make. I need a starter kit of at least four or five.”

“Don’t sass your mother.”

Nikki grabbed her pillow and, holding her phone at arm’s length, screamed into the pink satin. She returned the phone to her ear. With a honeyed voice, she said, “Sorry, Ma. I just really like Meriwether. She keeps me company.”
Ooops!

“You wouldn’t need a cat for company if you’d get yourself a man. Aren’t there any men at that school of yours? Something nice and manly? A football coach or something?”

“Actually…”

Ma’s voiced pitched higher with excitement. “Really? Is he married? How developed is his pension?”

“Is that a euphemism, Ma?”

“Don’t be disgusting, Nikki. How are his funds?”

Nikki ground the heel of her palm into her eyes. “I’m not privy to the financial records of my colleagues, Ma. He must be making more than I am, though. He’s been teaching for a while.”

“Is he old?”

“No, not old. Just older than I am.”

“Well, you’re not getting any younger. If he’s single, you should make a move.”

“Ma—”

“It’s nice talking to you, Honey. I do wish you’d initiate the call sometimes, though.”

Not likely.
“Sorry, Ma. I’ve been crazy busy.”

“Just don’t be too busy to find a nice man.”

“Yes, Ma.” The connection died and Nikki rested the phone so it balanced on her nose and forehead. “Meriwether, you are infinitely less aggravating than my mother, even when you yerp in my shoes.”

Meriwether purred loudly, and the sound blended into the vibrating phone. Nikki gingerly lifted the phone a few inches above her face and stared at the screen somewhat cross-eyed.

I’ll call you tomorrow.
A text from her mother.

Nikki dropped the phone over the side of the bed and promptly fell asleep.