Operation Green Card Read online

  Jason decided this was an excellent moment for a strategic retreat. “Why don’t I let you two put your heads together without me cramping your style.”

  He pulled Arkady close and placed a chaste kiss on his temple. “You know what I want, love.”

  Whether Arkady was too surprised to protest or happy to comply, he let Jason get away with grabbing his keys and heading out the door. A solitary pint would definitely be better than whatever those two were cooking up in his living room. Natural ribbons, my ass.

  For some unfathomable reason, though, that solitary pint turned out to feel very lonely indeed. Which was weird. Jason was used to drinking alone. Had been ever since he’d come back here. He liked it that way, and he saw no reason why that should have changed. Certainly no blond, blue-eyed reason. Especially one who dragged wedding planners into the house. Gay wedding planners, damn it. Unfortunately, he had to admit that Arkady was playing his part to perfection. A traditional wedding with all the trimmings would help their plan way more than the bare-bones affair he’d had in mind. But only if Arkady didn’t start running around with other guys while trying to convince the world he was in love with Jason. It placed the mission outcome in jeopardy. That was the reason Jason was feeling snarly. Whatever. It didn’t really matter why. He should go back and pretend to be useful. Keep an eye on things. With a sigh, he drained his glass and heaved himself to his feet. With a bit of luck Grigory would already be gone.

  But by the time he made it back, the planning session had merely proceeded to full swing, it seemed. His kitchen table had been taken over by an army of notes and binders, from color samples to one that seemed to hold nothing but an array of business cards.

  “What flavor?” Grigory asked him as soon as he stepped in the kitchen. Jason tried to keep his eyebrows from creeping up into his hairline. “What are my choices?” he asked, and immediately regretted it when Grigory fished a long list out of the pile and opened his mouth to read from it.

  “He’ll want lemon,” Arkady said.

  Jason, still mystified, promptly gave him two thumbs-up and a big smile.

  “Lemon it is.” Grigory ticked a line on his list and shoved the sheet of paper into a folder, then flipped a page on the notepad in front of him. “Music,” he said. “What’s your song?”

  Jason turned to Arkady again for help, but this time all he got was a shrug.

  “Opening dance,” Grigory said with more than a hint of impatience in his voice. “You have to have a song. Something romantic, or cheesy, or both that has a special meaning for the two of you?”

  All Jason had heard was, Opening dance. The rest was white noise. “No dance.” He was not going to make a stumbling fool of himself at his own fake wedding.

  Arkady had been tapping his teeth with a pen, but at that he got up. “Give us a minute, would you?” he said to Grigory, before turning Jason by the shoulders and maneuvering him into the living room.

  “I mean it,” Jason said. “I’m not dancing.”

  “Look.” Arkady’s eyes were gentle, which made Jason flinch, because he just knew it was to soften a blow.

  “I see you walk nearly every day, take the stairs, drive, even run if you have to. So don’t tell me this is about any physical inability to set one foot in front of the other.” He paused, but Jason was still running through his reply options when Arkady went on, “So, it’s about playing it safe.”

  Before Jason could protest the implication that he was scared, Arkady raised his hand. “I get it, I do. I’m all about playing it safe.” There was a bitterness in that last line that Jason couldn’t place. “But believe me, people will expect us to dance, and if we don’t, they’re going to ask why. If you’re trying to shift the focus away from your prosthesis, I expect this will do exactly the opposite.”

  That was hard to argue with. Jason could easily see the friendly proddings followed by concerned questions. Not feeling it wouldn’t cut it. Still . . . Again he looked to Arkady for help, and Arkady came through.

  “We’ll pick something slow. We’ll make it one of those full-hug-shuffles people who can’t dance resort to the world over. You won’t stumble. And you sure as hell won’t fall. I won’t let you. I swear.”

  Jason had to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. “M’kay,” he got out, torn between feeling sheepish for having been so easily read, and moved beyond words that Arkady had not only seen the problem and wasn’t judging, but was giving him a way out as well.

  “So,” Arkady said with a soft smile. “What song?”

  But Jason’s brain was busy picturing Arkady’s arms around him while they were softly swaying to music he couldn’t hear.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll find something.” Arkady walked back to the kitchen, and Jason found himself staring at his ass. He tried to shake himself out of it. What the fuck was wrong with him? He didn’t get drunk from one beer. He watched Grigory pack up his stuff, and stayed rooted to the floor as Arkady brought the wedding planner to the door, where they said their goodbyes. The house had been silent for a while when he looked up and saw Arkady leaning in the doorway with a bemused smile on his lips. They just stood there, looking at each other. Jason’s hands grew warm, then his whole body.

  Arkady finally went over to the stereo and knelt to pull out a CD. Strands of hair curled around his bent neck, almost long enough to touch his shoulders. Jason reached out to caress the bowed line of his head and neck, and only at the last minute curled his fingers into a fist, shoved it in his pocket, and took a step back.

  When the first chords of Beyoncé’s “Flaws and All” started playing, Arkady stood up and closed the distance, then came one step closer. He took both of Jason’s hands and placed them on his shoulders.

  “Just checking if this works as I think it will,” Arkady murmured. He slipped his hands around Jason’s waist and started shifting his weight side to side in rhythm with the music, then stepping from one foot to the other.

  Jason had a sudden flashback to prom night, to dancing like this with Kendra, and what it had led to later that night. But it wasn’t a clear image; the memory had become washed-out over the years. And now it faded even more, overlaid with Arkady, here and now, the way his muscles moved under Jason’s hands, the way his eyes caught the light, the blond stubble on his jaw.

  Jason fought down the strong impulse to kiss him again. It hadn’t been welcome the first time, it wouldn’t be now. They weren’t dancing for fun. He had to remember that. This was mission prep, nothing else. And yet, his body had begun to move along with Arkady’s. Inch by inch their feet followed an invisible circle on the floor, Jason on the inside, Arkady covering the slightly larger outer perimeter, his hand warm against Jason’s back, there to hold him should his artificial leg catch on a crack in the boards.

  God, he was so close, barely a handspan between them. It would be so easy to lean in and to—

  The music ended, and with a deep breath, Arkady let him go. Or had that been a sigh? Wishful thinking, Cooley.

  “See?” Arkady said. “That didn’t go too badly, did it?”

  Jason shook his head. Words were buried somewhere under a bunch of stuff he had no name for. He mentally kicked himself. He had no use for that stuff either. Because that was the other thing he had to remember: He had nothing to offer. Nothing anyone had ever wanted. Not his parents or grandparents, not Kendra, and certainly not Arkady. The only time he’d ever been of value to anyone was in the army. If he wanted to be of value to Arkady, he had to remember that Arkady was a job to do, a mission to complete. No distractions.

  “It’ll work, I guess,” he said out loud, his voice grating against everything he didn’t say. Let’s do another song. Let me kiss you again. Let me . . . He shoved both hands in his pockets and stared at his feet, anywhere but those clear blue eyes that had just now had the slightest frown between them.

  There was a long pause, then Arkady asked, “Am I pushing too hard?”

  At that Jason did look up. And ther
e was more than a slight frown now. There was insecurity in Arkady’s eyes, and worse, hurt. Fuck. Like kicking a puppy. And Jason knew what that felt like. Not the kicking, but the being kicked part. Being pushed away, not wanted. Whatever he’d been thinking about went down and disappeared in the depth of those blue eyes.

  “No.” He cleared his throat. His voice still sounded like shit for no good reason. “No. You’re right. Dancing will be expected.”

  He wanted to smooth that frown out. Instead he bent and pressed the back button on the CD player, then held his hand out to Arkady. “In fact, let’s do it again. Just to make sure.”

  Arkady didn’t hesitate for a second. He fitted himself easily against Jason’s body, and with a wink and a smile, wrapped his arms around Jason’s neck.

  So much closer than before. Heartbeat against heartbeat. Blue eyes with beginning sun marks around the edges. Blond hair curling around an earlobe and under the chin. The impulse to brush it back irresistible.

  At the touch, Arkady leaned his head on his arm, nose against Jason’s neck. Funny how short of breath such a small gesture could make a grown man feel. And how hard it was to remember the rules of this game. That it was a game. Playacting. Pretend. So hard to remember. What if he allowed himself to believe? For just a minute, just one song, to believe that there was someone who wanted him close like this? He shut his eyes and leaned his head against Arkady’s, let his body do the shuffle-sway on automatic, and pretended that he was wanted, pretended that there was somewhere he belonged.

  Just for one song.

  He didn’t know how long they moved like that, but when Arkady gently straightened and stepped back, the room was quiet. Had been quiet for a while, Jason realized. The song had long ended. All he wanted was to restart it and get back to where he’d been a minute ago.

  “Flaws and All,” huh? Had Arkady simply pulled a random CD out, or had he picked the song on purpose?

  Suddenly the day and the beer he’d had conspired to pile the weight of the world on Jason’s shoulders. He should eat a bit and go to bed. Or just go to bed.

  But when he turned to drag himself upstairs, there was Arkady, watching him with half-raised eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine.” Going to bed this early would put the lie to that, wouldn’t it? “Wanna show me the wedding stuff while I nuke some dinner?”

  A lopsided grin appeared on Arkady’s face. “You say the most romantic things.”

  Jason shrugged. The quip deserved a retort, but his brain was blank.

  He shoved a couple of TV dinners in the microwave and, over food he didn’t taste, okayed everything Arkady put before him. What did he know about decorations and cakes, catering, venues, or seating arrangements? It seemed like a lot of money for nothing, but Arkady assured him they’d kept it on the lean side, and apparently Arkady had already made some friends who’d likely help out for free. Jason had nothing and no one to add to that, either.

  The last sheet of paper in front of him was titled Guest list. It had Grooms’ Attendants at the top, and Arkady had put Natalya’s name down.

  Underneath was a list of names—some were Wolf’s Landing crew, most Jason didn’t recognize. Arkady had been here three weeks. How did he know ten times more people to invite to a wedding than Jason did after growing up here?

  “Who’s going to be your best man?” Arkady asked.

  Good question. The only one Jason could think of was Mark. “I’ll ask a guy I know.” Not a friend.

  It had always been easier to keep people at arm’s length, because they would leave anyway, but right now it felt like he’d been missing out.

  He wrote down Mark’s name with a question mark, and then Jack Daley in the guest list column, because Mark wouldn’t want to come alone, would he?

  For good measure, Jason added Jack’s sister, Margaret, as well, then he was done.

  It was a pitifully short list.

  “Your father?” Arkady suggested.

  “Not a chance in hell. Even if I wanted him there, which I don’t, he wouldn’t come to a gay wedding.” Jason tapped two names on Arkady’s list. “Your parents going to fly in?”

  “I’m not sure. The tickets aren’t cheap. Tasha and I might try to rig something with Skype and iPads. We’ll see. I do want to ask them, but I don’t want them to pay for tickets they can ill afford for . . .” Arkady sighed and vaguely indicated the jumble on the table.

  “A fake wedding,” Jason finished for him.

  “Yeah. Which reminds me, I asked Grigory to put a note on the invitations that we don’t want any wedding presents. That, if people do feel compelled to spend money, they should make a donation to their favorite charity instead.”

  Jason frowned, but Arkady gave him a helpless shrug. “Nothing at all would seem funny.”

  “Fair enough.” Only it wasn’t. None of this was. When he’d made the decision to help Arkady get his green card, he hadn’t anticipated collateral damage. Lousy planning, Cooley.

  Arkady picked the guest list back up and stared at it hard. “Your daughter should be there,” he said, without looking up.

  Jason swallowed the immediate no that rose to his lips. He didn’t get to see her that often, and by the time she was old enough to understand marriage and divorce, the wedding and Arkady would be a distant memory. He took a deep breath to get rid of the sudden tightness in his chest. “She might enjoy throwing petals or flowers from a basket,” he said, and wrote down Lily’s name. And then Kendra and Dan, because they wouldn’t just leave her in his care, would they? It didn’t feel right, regardless. But maybe they’d have something else going on, or they just wouldn’t care to come.

  Six names. Still not a lot. “I can ask some of the guys at work.” There was no one he particularly wanted there, but it couldn’t hurt to put the word out. People might feel slighted otherwise, since he’d be asking Mark, and Arkady would be inviting crew as well. Jason had no idea what the protocol was for a wedding. Not for a real one, and sure as hell not for a fake one.

  Grigory had done an amazing job with the wedding decorations. He’d stuck to the traditional, as they’d asked, but had managed a classy, almost masculine style, like something straight out of the Gentleman’s Journal. The white gardenias in lapels, on tables, and on the ceremony arbor only served to emphasize that style.

  Arkady couldn’t keep his eyes off Jason. Not that it was easy at any time, but today, in a three-piece tailored suit, all that intense, quiet power barely contained under an expensive veneer of polished sophistication, he looked downright devastating. It took Mark stepping between them to congratulate Jason and razz him about something, before Arkady was able to turn away.

  People were taking their seats in the rows of chairs, Tasha was busy with setting up an iPad on a wheeled contraption that would allow their parents to be part of the ceremony. Everything was well taken care of, and for a minute Arkady managed to tune out the buzz around him and concentrate on breathing.

  Until a tiny guest in a pale-blue dress and tiara with a braid down her back came toward him. Arkady had nieces just a tad older than her, so he recognized Frozen, or Cold Heart as it was called in Russia, when he saw it. She curtsied, then held out her hand. “I’m Lily Reines, Jason Cooley’s daughter. It is so nice to meet you.”

  Jesus, God, had Jason said his kid was five? She was taking his breath away all over again, a thing that seemed to run in the family. He went down on one knee to shake her hand and be at eye level. “Enchanté, Miss Reines. How wonderful to finally see you in person. Jason has a picture of you on his fridge, but I have to say, it doesn’t do you justice.”

  Lily giggled, then pointed to where two adults were taking their seats. “I’ll be over there, with Mom and Dad.”

  “See you at the dance, then. I hope you’ll save one for me.”

  She turned briefly on her way over to her parents to wave, then scrambled onto a chair.

  They’d decided against the whole scattering of flowers or petals
thing in an effort to keep it simple. He almost regretted that decision now. She would have been perfect. He was in love.

  So why, then, was his heart so heavy?

  Because she wasn’t part of Jason’s life, because Jason, the tough guy who pushed all his buttons, wasn’t a family man. He’d had a family and walked away from it. And even if Lily had been in Jason’s life, she’d never be in Arkady’s. Because this, none of this was real. He really had to remember that. Just not today. If he wanted to survive today, present a happy face to the world, he had to try to lose himself in the moment, in the stunning tough guy waiting for him at the end of the aisle. Today, he had to lie.

  “You may now kiss the groom.”

  It was supposed to have been just a quick kiss, a peck to satisfy conventions. For the photo op, and to give the people who’d come to the wedding something to talk about should they ever be interviewed by immigration.

  But when Jason’s hands framed his face, Arkady made the mistake of closing his eyes. This time he’d expected the big man’s remarkable gentleness; he’d been ready for it, but that didn’t work in favor of his control. The soft touch of lips on lips sparked its way into his system that much faster. This was no dark-alley doorway, no jeering crowd; the wedding venue and the people they had invited provided as safe a space as one could hope for. He could let himself melt into the kiss without fear, and he gave up any attempt of trying to resist it. Not with a man who knew how to kiss so well, but who didn’t take anything Arkady offered for granted.

  The hoots and applause from the crowd, the camera flashes that were reduced to red flickers through his eyelids, all fell away along with any vertical integrity his spine might have possessed at some point. But Jason’s arm caught him and held him tight. It didn’t feel like a stage kiss at all, but like a promise. The thought jolted him back onto his own two feet, right when Jason gently disentangled himself.

  When Arkady opened his eyes, he expected to see his own confusion mirrored in Jason. But instead Jason’s eyes were shining with a soft smile, and, just for a heartbeat, Jason laid his hand against Arkady’s cheek before he turned to the cheering crowd and bowed, laughing. Arkady quickly followed suit, hoping to God he was hiding how shaken he was better than he thought.