A Paper Marriage by Robin Smith

Author:Robin Smith
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: spanking, domestic discipline, dominant male, over the knee, alpha male, spanking romance, robin smith

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He spent more time at the hardware store than he meant to—it had always been easy for him to lose track of time there—and even longer at the home store. He was no stranger there either, although, until now, his previous forays had more or less been restricted to the furnishings or land and garden departments. He'd had no idea you could even fill up three full aisles with sheets and blankets.

He took his time, spent his money and went home to unload it all and get to work. Temp had already left and Edie was only waiting on him. He reminded her again to be on her best behavior and saw her to her car.

Mama was watching TV in her room when he checked in on her. She spared the sheets he'd bought her a dismissive glance, repeated her assertion that men couldn't pick out linens, and told him to turn the light off when he went.

"It ain't even eight o'clock, Mama."

"Isn't. I raised you better than ain't, Rueben Barrett."

"Good night, Mama," he sighed and shut off her light.

Kayla's room kept him busy until after midnight, but a lifetime of habit woke him promptly at six just the same. He could smell coffee. When he came out into the kitchen, there was Mama at the kitchen table, just staring out the window.

"Morning," he said.

She did not reply.

He fetched down a cup and filled it. Black and bitter, the only way coffee ought to be drunk. "When are the girls coming over for this party?"

"Noonish. When is your gold-digging mistake showing up?"

Rueben put his coffee down. "You want to try that again?"

Mama sat there and watched the window, her lips pressed tight together. She looked a hundred years old.

"She said she'd call before she left," said Rueben. "Probably noonish."

"I suppose," Mama said stiffly, "I ought to make the cake."

He looked at her, surprised. "You mean that?"

She turned an imperious eye on him. "Why shouldn't I mean it? You married her, didn't you? You went to the courthouse and the judge banged down her gavel and you're married."

The bitter emphasis of her words aside, Rueben felt the first stirrings of hope since this whole sorry business started. The cake was more than just a family tradition; it was a legend. In 1860, Menosa Harper, soon to be Menosa Barrett, left her home and family in New York and took the train to Dry Boots, Arkansas, where her husband, Uriah, was waiting. The Harpers were a wealthy family, or so the story went, but Menosa had married well beneath her social station. When her husband went west to seek his own fortune, the marriage could be ignored, but when he finally sent for his young bride, the inevitable explosive ultimatum came and so Menosa brought with her nothing but her Sunday hat and a cake.

It was, at its heart, a honey spice cake, a far more luxuriant cake in Menosa's day than it was now, with a distinctive velvety texture that simply could not come from a box mix.

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