One Night Stand Bride

Well, not the only one. He could be real with Roz. He’d never censored anything he’d said to her either, a first. Usually he watched what he said to women because who wanted to give false expectations? But his relationship with Roz required absolute honesty from the get-go and it was a facet of their relationship he hadn’t fully appreciated until now.

Tomorrow if he woke up and knew with certainty that he was done, he just had to announce it was time to file for divorce and she’d say okay. It was freeing to know he never had to pull punches with the woman he was sleeping with.

Not so freeing to be contemplating the fact that he’d practically been handed permission to bring up that divorce. He wasn’t ready to think about that. They hadn’t been married that long and surely Helene would want them to see this thing through a little while longer. Just to be absolutely certain that a divorce wouldn’t undo all the good they’d done already.

“I have to admit, I’m intrigued by the whole clown idea,” he told her. “But I have that presentation on restructuring the supply chain and I need to do a thorough sweep of the warehouse like I’ve been threatening to do for weeks.”

Helene wrinkled her nose. “That sounds boring.”

“Because it is. Being the CEO isn’t all curly wigs and water-squirting flowers.” Neither was being a political candidate, but she knew he was kidding.

“That’s the benefit of being the boss,” she reminded him and pushed him ahead of her out of the break room where his admin had started cleaning up the leftover boxes. “You can leave the boring stuff for another day and come watch me be a clown. It’s for a good cause. And it’s an opportunity to be seen with your lovely bride in a stellar photo op where everyone will not only be dressed but overdressed.”

Seeing Roz in the middle of the day for no other reason than because he wanted to held enormous appeal that he chose not to examine too closely. And it was coupled with an opportunity to see what she did on a daily basis unobtrusively. He did have a certain curiosity about her charity. Because...clowns. It was such a strange thing to be passionate about.

“Sold.” He buttoned his suit jacket. “Let me—”

“Not one foot in your office or you’ll never emerge.” Helene looped an arm through the crook of his elbow and tugged. “Ride with me in my car. We’ll drop you off back here to get your car later.”

And that was how he found himself at Carolina Presbyterian Hospital with his mother in clown makeup. The children’s ward was a lively place, if not a little depressing. Easy to see why clowns might make the whole thing a tiny bit less awful. God willing, he’d never have to personally empathize with what these families were going through. He made a mental note to write Roz a check, which he should have done a long time ago.

He snuck a glance at Roz from the corner of his eye as he lounged in the spot he’d reserved for himself, which was well out of the way, yet afforded him a front-row seat for the show. His wife was gorgeous, focused and quite possibly the tensest he’d ever seen her, including the time they’d braved the florist, their wedding reception and, his least favorite, the encounter with her father in the hall after nearly being caught with their pants down.

Either she didn’t like that he’d accompanied his mother or she was worried that something was going to go wrong with this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get buzz for her charity.

While Helene entertained the kids with stuffed animals she’d carried into the hospital in a big bag, Hendrix edged toward Roz, who had yet to acknowledge his existence. Not that he was nursing a teeny bit of hurt over that or anything.

“Hey,” he murmured, mindful of the two separate news crews that were covering the gubernatorial candidate’s foray into the world of therapy clowning, a thing he’d had no idea had a name, but apparently did.

“Hey.” Her mouth pinched back into a straight line that he immediately wanted to kiss away.

Definitely tense and dang it if it wasn’t on the tip of his tongue to suggest they find a closet somewhere because she was wound tight. But they weren’t that couple any longer. For a reason. So he’d have to handle his wife’s tension verbally. “You have a problem with me being here?”

“What?” She glanced at him and then immediately flicked her gaze back to Helene. “No. I don’t care. It’s a free country.”

Which was the kind of thing you said when you did care but hadn’t planned on letting anyone else in on the secret.

“Your shoes are too tight?” he guessed but she didn’t smile at the joke.

“This is a big deal, Hendrix. I’m allowed to be nervous.”

The sarcasm lacing the edge of her words was pure Roz, but he’d spent far too much time in her company to accept her comment as pure truth. She wasn’t nervous. Tense, yes. But it wasn’t nerves.

And like what had happened at their engagement party, he was nothing if not painfully aware that he could read her so easily because he was paying attention to her, not how best to get under that severe suit she’d donned like armor.

“She’s doing fine,” he told her with a nod toward his mom. “Come get some coffee with me.”

Roz shot him another side-eyed glance, as if afraid to take her gaze off Helene for one second. “I can’t leave. This is my charity on the line.”

“On the line?” he repeated. “Like if Mom does the wrong thing, it’s all going to collapse? You know no one is going to stop letting you do clowns just because she fails to make one of the kids smile, right?”

Her shoulders rolled back a couple of times as if she couldn’t find a comfortable stance. “Maybe not. But maybe it’s all going to collapse for other reasons.”

That wasn’t the fierce Rosalind Carpenter he knew. “If it does, that’s not on you.”

“It is,” she hissed back under her breath. “Why do you think I needed your mother in the first place? Not because I thought kids would like to meet the woman who may be the governor by January.”

“Will be,” he corrected automatically because there was no way Helene was going to fail to reach her goal, not if he had anything to say about it. After all, he’d signed a marriage license to ensure that his mom got to move into the Governor’s Mansion. The fact that his marriage had become so much more still wasn’t something he had a handle on. “Why don’t you clue me in on why Helene is really here if it’s not to bring joy to some sick kids?”