Chapter 8
Trees lined the sidewalks outside Vail, the brown-and-white architecture looking more like the Swiss Alps than a rustic mountain town.
I let myself get distracted by the familiar storefronts while Mikko disappeared on a quick errand.
That felt easier than thinking about the fact that I’d gotten married an hour ago.
Something clinked against the inside window, pulling my attention back to the car.
I glanced into the rearview mirror to see a chubby hand pop over the side of Leena’s rear-facing car seat. Cinderella lay on the floorboards, right where Leena pointed.
“Do you want your toy back?”
She grunted and tugged harder on the straps of her car seat, trying to turn around and face me.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, a tiny voice insisted I should be processing my new marital status instead of mentally assessing a toddler’s speech and language development.
But Leena was the whole reason I was here, after all...
The third time Cinderella went flying across the car, I climbed over the center console and into the backseat beside her.
“Doll,” I said, holding it up.
She smiled and took it from my hand without trying to repeat the word.
Testing this theory, I grabbed the first things I could find in my bag.
“Phone. Keys. Pen.”
She watched every item, reaching for each one when I named it, but not a single word back.
At her age, I wouldn’t even call this a speech delay yet, but the fact she wasn’t forming any intentional sounds was worth noting, especially considering her mother’s history with addiction.
When the driver’s door opened and Mikko stuck his head inside, I asked, “Have you heard her talk at all? Anything that sounded intentional. Like b sounds for ball, or d for Daddy?”
I looked up in time to see his expression change from what looked like nervous energy to concern.
“She makes a lot of noise, but I’ve never heard words, no. Is that bad?”
I looked back at Leena, asking again, “Where’s your doll?”
This time, I didn’t point at it.
Leena looked around her car seat before leaning over the side and pointing to the floorboard where Cinderella laid on the floor.
I reached down and handed it back with a smile. “That’s right. There’s your doll.”
Leena let out a joyful shriek before launching Cinderella over her shoulder at Mikko’s face.
He caught it out of midair—because of course he did—and handed it right back to her, all too familiar with this game.
I pulled out my phone and jotted down a note. “I don’t think it’s her hearing.”
“They tested it at her eighteen-month appointment.” Mikko climbed into the driver’s seat and set something on the center console. “Everything came back fine. Is there something I should watch for?”
I looked up to answer, but my train of thought vanished as I caught sight of the dark blue bag sitting between us, Vail Valley Jewelers stamped across the front in gold script. “What’s that?”
His mouth pulled into an almost shy smile. “For you, wife.”
Wife.
The word landed differently this time.
When I didn’t reach for the bag, Mikko slipped his hand inside and pulled out a velvet box only big enough to hold a ring.
“My options were limited considering I only had a few hours.” His gaze stayed fixed on the box instead of me. “If you hate it, we’ll find you something else.”
My brain refused to catch up with what my eyes were seeing. “You... You bought me a ring.”
Finally, he looked up. “My wife would have one.”
There wasn’t a trace of hesitation in his voice. No grand declaration. No attempt to impress me. Just a simple statement of fact.
My wife would have one.
Until that moment, I’d done a great job of convincing myself that this arrangement wasn’t that different from being Lori’s live-in caretaker.
But caretakers didn’t get wedding rings…
“You didn’t have to do this,” I said quietly. “I don’t need this.”
Before I had time to elaborate, Mikko climbed out of the SUV and came around to my door. He opened it, holding one hand out toward me.
My heart was racing too hard to even fathom what he wanted from me now, but Mikko apparently didn’t feel the same.
“Don’t hate me,” he muttered.
I looked at him, eyes squinting right before one hand settled on my thigh. In a split second, he slid me across the leather bench seat toward him with almost embarrassing ease. Heat shot through me before my brain could catch up with what was happening, which was wildly unfair.
A man shouldn’t be allowed to look like Mikko Laaksonen while manhandling people.
I yelped, putting my hand up to keep me from crashing into his chest. “What the—”
Mikko’s hand left my thigh and grabbed my chin instead until my gaze met his.
Breath whooshed out of me as his thumb grazed my jaw, rough from years of hockey tape and calluses. I should have pushed back, slapped his hand away, but the intensity in his eyes was so vulnerable, I leaned in.
Absolutely not.
“Don’t misunderstand me,” he said. “I am your husband, and I intend to be a good one. Whether or not you need something is irrelevant. I want you to have it, not because I need the world to know you’re unavailable, to know you’re mine. But because I want you to be happy, and I chose it for you.”
The hand not gripping my chin flipped open the box and pulled the ring out, pinching it between two fingers.
I finally came to my senses enough to pull my face out of his hold, pulse racing under my skin.
But it was nothing compared to the feeling that swept through me when I looked down at the emerald-cut stone set on a diamond-encrusted gold band.
It wasn’t overly large, but the gem in the middle wasn’t your typical diamond—it was black, maybe a sapphire or moissanite. I wasn’t sure.
But I was sure that Mikko hadn’t just bought a wedding ring…
He’d bought one for me.
My hand shook as I reached forward before I could scream that this didn’t feel temporary. But the ring was shiny, and beautiful, and damn my superficial self, I wanted it.
“I don’t hate it.” My voice sounded rougher than I was proud of.
Mikko took my left hand and slid it onto my ring finger, the metal cold against my clammy skin. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized he also wore a simple gold band on his left hand, too.
“Why are you wearing a ring?” I asked, my chin raised to meet his eyes. “Because you wanted one?”
“Because I’m yours, rakas.”
My breath caught, and the little sound that escaped me drew his eyes down to my mouth.
Mine betrayed me by doing the same.
Neither of us moved, the heavy tension hanging in the air with only inches between us.
It would have taken nothing to seal the deal with a kiss. To make this real.
An absolutely insane part of me wanted that.
The look in his eyes made me wonder if he wanted it too.
Everything about this moment felt far more intense than the legal speak we’d promised each other at the courthouse. In fact, the longer he looked at me, I almost believed all of Mikko’s pretty words.
He chose me, not because I was the first person who came to mind.
He trusted me, even though he barely knew me.
He belonged to me, at least legally.
My. Husband.
My hand tingled the longer he held it until I finally pulled it free, then slid back next to Leena’s car seat. No way did I trust myself to sit in the front with him, not when my brain was this confused.
“Let’s drive before we’re stuck in evening traffic,” I said, unable to meet his eyes.
Mikko stood in the doorway for another second, then closed the door. He got back in the car and put it in drive.
I focused on Leena, reminding myself that she was why I’d agreed to this marriage.
Not because Mikko had any effect on me. And certainly not because for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me.
“Where am I sleeping?” I asked, far too late into this conversation, but feeling the weight of what I’d agreed to. “At your house, I mean.”
Mikko cleared his throat, looking at me in the rearview mirror as he pulled onto the interstate, leading back to Denver. “About that.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Damn past Shannon for not writing out a list of questions I should have asked first.
“I have a guest room,” Mikko said, sensing my distress. “But it’s occupied.”
That made me look up. “By whom?”
This time he didn’t make eye contact with me. “My parents.”
“Your parents? As in, right now?”
Mikko’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Yes. My mom has been staying with me since Leena and I came home from Finland this summer, but my dad arrived last night to help her get home.”
I was so shocked by this announcement, I had to force my mouth shut. “What have you told them?”
Leena grabbed my hand, wrapping hers around my thumb as she put her pacifier in her mouth, eyes getting heavy. I brushed her hair away from her face, taking in the sleepy little girl at my side instead of the confusing man in the front seat.
“They know I brought Leena up to see a friend.”
“A friend,” I repeated. “We’re not friends.”
Mikko chuckled, the sound rumbling through the otherwise quiet car. “That’s right, wife, we’re not friends. We’re married.”
Something about hearing it out loud was so much different from thinking it; the word feeling far more substantial than a promise of a few months spent together while we both helped Leena adapt to her new life.
Because holy shit, I was married.
“What am I supposed to say to your parents who are for sure going to jump to the worst conclusions about me? They’re going to think I’m only here because you’re—” I gasped when I realized one massively important step we’d skipped right over. “You didn’t make me sign a prenup, Mikko.”
“I know.”
“You know? You thought of this and said nothing? What else did you think of that I haven’t yet?”
“Well, I added you to my health insurance policy, and made you an appointment for a passport card. If you don’t need it, we can cancel. Oh, also, I ordered you a car.”
“You what? When?!”
Mikko looked back at me, his brows drawn down. “Before you got to the courthouse. Was that wrong?”