Accidental Protector: A Marriage Mistake Romance

by Nicole Snow

  I pull my lips off his, kiss the outline of his jaw, and smile inwardly at the groan he makes before he captures my lips again and sweeps his tongue inside my mouth.

  My senses hit overdrive. Noah just might be the best kisser on Earth. He knows when to flirt and when to claim, when to stroke and when to breathe, when to give and take and render me his.

  Those huge, calloused hands are everywhere.

  My hair. My back. My sides.

  So are my fingers. I use my chance to explore every inch of him, halfway wondering if I’m strong enough to push him backward, onto the bed, and if I'm insane enough to follow through.

  It’s not until my fingers encounter something foreign that my brain kicks back in and my eyes fly open.

  That’s a gun. The one tucked in the back of his jeans.

  Crap, crap. What are you doing, Mindy?

  I tear my lips off his and tumble a step back. A wobbly one that causes me to grasp his shoulders to stay upright.

  A gazillion questions spin inside my head. I can’t seem to focus on a single one, can’t comprehend what's happening. Or has happened.

  What's divine or completely whack since the moment we met.

  Shaking my head, hoping for an ounce of clarity, I ask, “Who are you, really?”

  He grips my shoulders, gazing into me for a long, tense moment. Shaking his head slightly, he answers, “Told you, Lucky, I haven’t lied. I’m who I said I am. Noah Bernard.”

  The questions are still flying, and so is my confusion. “Then what are you? Tell me again.”

  I want to see if he keeps his story straight. And if I haven't just hallucinated this whole messed-up encounter.

  “Former detective. Bounty hunter. Husband you never wanted.” His jaw tightens as his eyes turn a shade darker. “And yeah, maybe I'm real sorry you’ve been pulled into this fucking mess.”

  It shouldn’t, considering I barely know this man, but the sincerity in his voice knots my heart up.

  “What mess? What have I gotten into?” My senses are fully returning. So does the conversation we were having a few moments ago. “Why did this Lucient guy you mentioned drug us? Why me?”

  He lets go of my shoulders and steps away. Suddenly, I'm alone.

  It’s weird. I barely know him yet feel so connected; there's a sure disconnect when he goes cold.

  I watch as he crosses the room to glance out the window again.

  “Haven’t figured that out yet. Still working on it, if you want to know.” He twists around. “But I will, Mindy. Then I'll call the lawyer I know, get things rolling for a divorce, or whatever the hell it is we need to do. Whatever it takes to get you out of this as quickly as possible. Before Lucient starts poking his nose in places he shouldn't.”

  That last line drops a boulder on my heart. Ice floods my veins.

  Part of me wants to know more. Lots more. The other half, too influenced by a sheltered upbringing, wins out.

  I'm freaked out, honestly. This is too far outside my experience. I just can't wrap my head around what I've stumbled into thanks to one wild, free, happenstance night at the casino.

  “I’d appreciate that, Noah. Quick and clean. I really don’t need my family finding out about this. Any of it. The wedding, the bounty hunting, the Lucient thing...”

  Whatever that 'thing' is. It numbs me to the bone.

  “Or Charlie?” he asks, that playful edge back in his tone, daring me to kiss him or slap him. I'm not sure which.

  Sighing, I just nod. “No way. Obviously, I don’t want Charlie finding out, either.”

  He waves toward the door while taking a step in that direction. “Glad we had this talk. Come on, Lucky. I’ll walk you to your car.”

  Just like that? How can we be done?

  “Wait, but –”

  I start to protest, but he steps up again, pushing his pointer finger softly against my lips. “Car, darlin'. You hear? Trust me when I say we're not fixing shit today with more words. Leave the rest to me.”

  Bossypants gets me, and so does the heat. Nerves, too, I suppose. I can't keep fighting.

  I'm also not interested in exploring why, exactly, I'm so reluctant to leave when there are a hundred excellent reasons to get away now. I pull back and let him lead me to the door.

  Someday, I’ll be different.

  Someday, I’ll be strong enough. Brave enough to stand on my own two feet.

  But New Mindy is in her cocoon. One trip to Reno – complete with an accidental marriage and bad guys – can't force her out until she's ready.

  He places his hand on my back as we walk out of the bedroom and he keeps it there as we head down the hallway and through the kitchen.

  Although prisoner Harkness tries asking questions again, tons of them, I don’t look his way.

  Partly because I tell myself I don’t want to know more. Mostly, because Noah completely ignores the man, and I know I should, too.

  We don’t talk. Not even during the elevator ride down to the ground floor.

  He still hasn’t buttoned his shirt, and my mind wants to keep assessing his body. His skyline shoulders. His screaming ink peaking up around his neckline. The V that disappears into his jeans, giving him that powerful, lion-like swagger.

  God, I’m hopeless. Ruined. I’ve never been so hooked on a man’s appearance and can’t help but wonder why I am now. Is that why I married him?

  Maybe Noah Bernard's good looks are stronger than any drug.

  Once outside, I pull my keys out of my pocket and click the unlock button as we walk across the parking lot. I have to get away.

  Have to think. Make myself remember something from the other night.

  “I’ll be in touch as soon as I know more,” he says. “Probably tomorrow.”

  “Okay. Anything I can do to help?”

  He opens the driver’s door of my car. “No. I've got this, Lucky.”

  I walk around the door and grasp the top of it to look at him. Feeling inadequate, which isn’t overly unusual for me, I shrug. “Noah, for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  His eyes soften as our gazes meet. He lifts a hand and lightly touches the bottom of my chin with one knuckle. The caress is soft, but it lights me up all over.

  “Stop, darlin'. You've got nothing to be sorry for,” he says softly, thunder in his voice.

  “I know. It's just, I can’t help but feel a little responsible. Or at least like we're in this together.”

  He shakes his head. “Wrong place, wrong time. That’s all there is to it.”

  “Was it, though?”

  His knuckle moves along the underside of my chin, and then upward, stroking some sweet spot I didn't know I had. A tension ripples through me as his finger brushes against my bottom lip and then settles there. My nipples ache through my top.

  “You were,” he says gently, but firmly. “Don't drive yourself crazy thinking otherwise. Take care of yourself.”

  I can’t help but notice how his eyes are on my lips. Nor can I help wondering if he’s thinking about kissing me again.

  When his eyes lift and meet mine, neither of us move. It’s a long and heated moment that has my heart drumming, the air stuck in my lungs.

  Something is happening between us.

  Something keeps happening. Something that shouldn't exist outside sappy movies and love stories with tall, dark, lightning-eyed men on their covers.

  There’s a larger-than-life lure that’s undeniable. I feel it, and know he does, too.

  I don't know what to do about it. In the end, neither of us can resist what happens next.

  He might have moved first, or it could have been me.

  Either way, our lips connect.

  It’s not as frantic and wild as before. This kiss is gentle and sweet. Perfectly surprising and surprisingly perfect.

  Oh, sweet madness, so perfect.

  When his lips leave mine, he runs his fingers up, tracing the side of my face, leaving goosebumps in his wake. “I’ll be in touch so
on.”

  He steps back and waits for me to climb in my car. My knees are locked, and it takes all I have to make them move. Once I’m seated, he shuts the door.

  I swallow at the afterburn of his kiss still in my blood, and somehow manage to start my car and back out of the parking space. He’s still watching, so I wave, steering the car out of the visitor’s lot and into the circle drive.

  Two blocks later, there's a gas station. I'm running low, so I pull in, park, and drop my head onto the steering wheel.

  My entire body has the consistency of Jell-O. All thanks to the aftershock of kissing him.

  I throw my head back until it hits the headrest. What the heck is wrong with me?

  This is my chance. My chance to stand on my own two feet. My chance to see outside the world I’ve felt imprisoned in for years.

  If only I don't let this craziness and this mystery man blow it.

  A sense of rejuvenation slowly trickles through me, then gains momentum as it rushes clear to my toes. I'm smiling as unexplainable determination fills me.

  I'm not taking this lying down. And I'm definitely not letting Mr. Irresistible leave me in the dark.

  I’m going to find out why I was drugged.

  Then, I swear I'll uncover exactly who Noah Bernard really is.

  6

  Squabbles (Noah)

  The dirt road is full of ruts, making the truck bounce and jostle.

  These desert roads are always rough and dusty. It's cooler up here in the northern part of the state around Reno, but the arid landscape has a way of turning everything bone-dry. Dead. Desolate.

  I don’t give a shit.

  Not because the melancholy beauty of the Sierra Nevadas gets to me, or because I’ll be trading this truck off soon. Hopefully for the last time.

  The true reason I don’t care? Because I'll do anything to end this royal clusterfuck.

  It’s gone on too long. Jess, missing. Lucky, drugged for reasons I don't understand.

  Cesare's gone too far.

  Pulling her into this chaos the way he did ripped open the hole in my heart that's been there since the day Aunt Judy told me Jess was missing. Mindy doesn’t deserve this. I'll be damned if I let her become psycho victim number two.

  She’s too gentle. Too innocent.

  Sweet. Kind. Likeable. Loveable.

  Feisty. That last one gets to my dick, but it also screws with my head. Lucky's adorable stubbornness doesn't mix well with men like Cesare's crew – assholes won't think twice about shooting anybody mouthing off in the back of the head.

  Of course, I'd have to add sexy to my list, too. I’d almost pulled her down on the bed this morning. She never saw how hard I had to fight myself not to when she pulled out of that mind-boggling honey kiss.

  No woman ever made me throb like lit dynamite. Not like she did with one lone kiss that lasted too long. Her perfect little body left hellfire in my balls, sent me running to a cold shower after she left my place.

  “Big guy...just so you know, uh, the offer st-still stands.”

  A frustrated sigh leaves my chest at the sound of Harkness’ stuttery voice. He’s shaking like a leaf, knowing we’re on our way to meet Cesare and destiny.

  I could take pity on him. Tell him I’m not really going to let that demon, Lucient, put a bullet in his head. Too bad I prefer no one knows my next move.

  Harkness deserves to pay for what he’s done. Every bastard working for Lucient deserves a bill from Mother Karma. Still, the justice system is the best place to make sure that happens.

  That’s who I'm handing Harkness over to, after all this, and anyone else that I can take down with him. Including Lucient, after I have answers.

  I can’t wait for that day. The day he pays is the same day I’m free.

  Free.

  I tell myself that, even knowing I’ll never be fully liberated. What happened to Jess will stay with me forever, like a black mark on the soul. Just like all the better memories we've had.

  The freedom I’m imagining only comes from knowing that Fuckface Lucient paid for hurting her, for destroying her. That’s what'll allow me to live with the pain of her loss. Dull it to a manageable degree. It has to.

  “Wh-where are we-we going?” Harkness asks. “Th-there’s nothing out here.”

  I don’t respond. I know there’s nothing out here. Not a fucking thing.

  That's the point.

  I don't need bystanders or obstacles getting in the way of my plan.

  I also know exactly what Harkness is thinking. He doesn’t have a hope in hell. He’d been on the inside long enough to know what happens to anyone who double-crosses Lucient.

  Poor bastard should've thought about that before his greed took over. Lucky for him, I'm not letting the devil get his due.

  “Say something!” Harkness shouts.

  I glance his way. See the sweat pouring down the side of his face. “What do you want me to say?”

  “Fuck, I don't know! Don’t you know how dangerous Cesare Lucient is?”

  Apparently, he’s gotten over his stuttering. Must have hit the next stage. Anger.

  The killing, ice-cold chill that comes when the fear is so strong you no longer feel it, and that pisses you off even more. Been there. Done that.

  “You know he kills just for the fun of it!”

  “I know,” I answer.

  “Then what the hell are you doing?! Trying to get us both unmarked graves in the desert?”

  I say nothing. We're not debating this.

  “That’s what'll happen, big guy,” Harkness whispers. “We'll be left out here to dry. Barely enough dirt pushed over to save us from the vultures. Way out here in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

  I glance out the side window, at the pale, sandy dirt and brush rolling past. Dusk is settling in. It’ll be dark, or close to it, by the time we rendezvous with Cesare.

  “You've got one thing right: it's the middle of nowhere. Not another living soul for miles.”

  “Bingo!” he shouts. “That’s why Cesare lured us out here.”

  “He didn’t lure us,” I growl. “I suggested we meet out here.”

  “You – what? Why the fuck would you do that?”

  I almost smile at the shock on his face.

  “No witnesses,” I tell him, the first and only clue he's getting.

  Harkness' eyes go big behind his oversized spectacles. A long sigh rolls through his teeth, and his head slumps against the seatbelt. “Look, man. Whatever you've got up your sleeve...I have a family. A wife. Two kids. Dog. A nice golden retriever named Frankenfurter. If you've got some beef with Lucient besides just flipping me for pay, I don't –”

  “Stop whining,” I snarl, jerking the steering wheel. The truck bobs closer to the edge of the ravine, but I'm in full control.

  That shuts him up. I tell myself not to enjoy the silence.

  This isn't the time for second thoughts. Family man or not, he fucked up hard enough to land him in my passenger seat as bait for settling score. And the fact that I'm turning him over to the cops after is a far cry from being flayed alive by Cesare's hand.

  Also don’t need free rein to start thinking about Lucky again. She’s still there in the back of my mind. Has been since we left town.

  Shit, if I'm being brutally honest, she hasn’t left my head since the instant I locked my eyes on her perfect ass while she was crawling across my bedroom floor. Probably before then, but I can’t remember. All thanks to Mr. Fuckface.

  I turn my thoughts to the road ahead as a new wave of pure hatred fills me. The kind I’ve never known before. It’s dark and consuming. The deep, toxic loathing Lucient deserves.

  We aren’t as far from town as Harkness thinks. He hasn’t realized we’ve driven in a full circle, the complete circumference of the meeting point.

  I had to make sure Lucient didn’t have anything staged, and to give myself the opportunity to set out a few aids. Nothing serious. Just a few firecrackers and bottle rockets
. The remotes in my pocket are good for up to three miles. And they work. I’ve used them before, back in a block of Tikrit we had to demolish due to the snipers crawling around everywhere.

  A couple times on our little trip, I stopped to plant my packages. Harkness never questioned my lies about checking the air in the tires. He even got out once to take a leak.

  The fireworks will give me the distraction I need when the time comes.

  Once Lucient’s goons – he’s never alone – leave to check out the ground-shaking explosions, I’ll make my move. I'll have their boss cuffed and squeezed in next to Harkness before they even realize he's gone.

  The anticipation builds inside me like a boil. Slowly. Quietly. Secretly telling me this will all soon be over.

  The only thing I’ll have to clean up then is the fake marriage to Lucky. She’ll be happy when it's done.

  I can’t help but hope she doesn’t run right back to that asshole, Charlie boy. She deserves far better than him.

  Maybe I was surprised this morning when she said she didn’t want him knowing about our marriage.

  Why the hell not?

  Wouldn't it serve that ant-dicked idiot right if she did marry someone better? I might have to tell her that before we're through. Or better still, give her a reason to think long and hard about what she’ll be missing if she ever gets the urge to go back to that little dink.

  “Is that them?” Harkness pipes up next to me.

  Shit!

  I blink, clearing my mind more than my eyesight. A vehicle sits parked on the road a short distance ahead of us. Sleek, dark, and big. The black Escalade belongs to Lucient, no doubt.

  I glance at the clock on the dash. It's five minutes past eight. Right on time.

  “Keep your mouth shut,” I warn Harkness again as I brake, bringing the truck to a stop.

  It's time. All I have to do is set off the distraction for the goons with Cesare, then I’ll be able to overtake him, interrogate him, get the real truth about what happened to Jess.

  I’ll turn them both over to the authorities, Cesare and Harkness, and get on with my own life. “Let's go,” I tell Harkness, ignoring the reluctant terror flooding his eyes.