Silence.
Keegan yanked her hand from mine and burrowed into my side, “Shaker, why aren’t they saying anything?”
I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her closer, tipping my head down to murmur in her ear, “Don’t know, sweetheart, but everything will be okay.”
“Holy shit! You’re serious?” Duke blurted.
“Wouldn’t joke about something like this, brother,” I snapped.
Suddenly, we were swarmed by brothers and Old Ladies congratulating us and offering well wishes. I knew we could pull this off. I was only worried about one person. Harper. We’d become close during and after our kidnapping and she was also good friends with Keegan. If anyone was going to doubt our sudden marriage, it was going to be her.
Harper was the last to approach us, looking at both of us with an appraising eye. “Congratulations! I hope everything works out for you.” She hugged us both and went back to sit with Carbon.
“That was odd,” Keegan whispered.
“Yeah, it was. We’ll have to be careful around her. I think she already suspects something is off,” I whispered back. I leaned in closer to her, keeping my voice a whisper, “We need to act like newlyweds. You going to be okay with that?”
She swallowed audibly. “It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t kissed before,” she said with a wink. Then, she stood on her toes and placed her lips on mine. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss for a few beats. I pulled back and grinned, “I bet that looked believable.”
She playfully smacked my chest, “You’re shameless, Shaker Marks.”
We spent the rest of the evening at the party, laughing and drinking with our friends. Keegan stayed by my side or in my lap for the majority of the night. I couldn’t say that I didn’t enjoy having her next to me. I could, however, say that I didn’t like enjoying the feel of her body pressed close to mine. She was a friend I was helping. Nothing more. I would not allow this damsel in distress to seduce me only to destroy me later.
With my newfound determination, I told the ones remaining we were going to bed. That got a variety of responses from the rowdy group. Once in my room, I told Keegan I would see her in the morning. She gaped at me and looked like she wanted to say something, but she just nodded and told me goodnight.
I slipped through the back door and climbed on my bike. I needed some distance from her and sleeping in the same bed was not the way to get it. I drove around for a while and thought about riding out to Cedar Valley and finding a girl to take back to my fuck pad, but I couldn’t do it. It just seemed inherently wrong to fuck someone other than my wife on our wedding night, even if the marriage was a farce. Ultimately, I went to my apartment in Croftridge and crashed.
The following morning, I went back to the clubhouse to pick up Keegan. I checked my room, but she wasn’t there. She wasn’t in the common room, the kitchen, or out by the pool. She couldn’t have left because she didn’t have her car and I knew she wouldn’t have asked anyone for a ride and risked blowing our story. I flopped down on a couch by one of the pool tables and tipped my head back.
That’s when I heard it. Laughter. Feminine laughter. Keegan’s laughter. Followed by male laughter. Oh. Hell. No.
Jumping to my feet, I stomped down the hall, following the sounds of more laughter and giggling. When I found where it was coming from, I pushed the door open and froze at the sight before me. Keegan was in Byte’s bed. With Byte. They were side by side and laughing hysterically.
“What the fuck is going on in here?” I roared.
Keegan snapped, “What the fuck does it look like?”
“It looks like my wife is in bed with my brother the day after our wedding!” I shouted.
She looked down at herself, over to Byte, and back to me. “I would say that’s correct,” she sneered.
Byte held his hands up, “Whoa. I’m going to stop this before it goes any further. We were sharing some of our computer secrets at breakfast. I told her about some of the games I play when I’m bored. We came back in here to reset the screensavers on the computers at the fire department.”
“You what?” I asked.
“We changed the screensavers to say stuff like, ‘I burn for you’ or ‘You light my fire,’ stuff like that,” he explained, causing Keegan to start giggling again.
She braced her stomach with one arm and said, “The best one was ‘Firemen have big hoses. Spray me hot stuff.’”
The corner of my mouth twitched. I didn’t want to laugh, but that shit was funny. I knew Byte would occasionally play pranks on the folks of Croftridge, but I had no idea what he specifically did. “Sorry, brother. I didn’t mean any disrespect by having your Old Lady in my room. I guess it slipped my mind because it’s so new.”
“It’s fine, brother. I trust you...and her. I was worried when I couldn’t find her, and it shocked me to find her in your bed,” I explained. I turned my eyes to Keegan, “Let’s go.”
She jumped to her feet and stomped toward me, “Yes, boss.”
I followed her to my room and closed the door. “What is your problem?”
“My problem?” she screeched. “My problem is spending my ‘wedding night’ alone while my husband was filling a cum bucket at his fuck pad in Cedar Valley! That is my fucking problem!”
I chuckled, “Sounds like somebody is jealous.”
Her face scrunched and turned a bright shade of red. “I most certainly am not jealous. What I am is disgusted. Did it even occur to you that someone might have seen you? Or perhaps the slut you were with might talk? I don’t give a shit what you do, but I do not wish to be publicly humiliated in front of people I will have to face long after you have come and gone.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart. Just so you know, I slept at my apartment in Croftridge last night, alone. I didn’t go anywhere else, not that it’s any of your business. Your turn, how did you know about my place in Cedar Valley?”
She held up both hands and wiggled her fingers, “I’m good with computers. I was bored last night and couldn’t sleep, so I ran a few checks on you. I figured I should know more about you now that you’re my husband.”
Not a big deal. So, she knew about my fuck pad. She didn’t know what I did, or didn’t, do there. As long as I kept my dick in my pants for the next few weeks, there was no way she could find out about my particular issues. I tried to feign nonchalance, “Learn anything exciting from your checks? Aside from the fuck pad, that is.”
She grinned, “I did. You, sir, should have insisted upon a prenup.”
I threw my head back and laughed, “You can’t be serious.”
“Obviously, it’s too late for a prenup, but I do think we should sign a postnuptial agreement as soon as possible. I would never try to take your money from you, but neither one of us knows what kind of stunts Lawrence might try to pull. I would feel better if I knew your rightful assets were protected,” she explained.
She didn’t want my money. She wanted to make sure no one could take it from me because of her. I didn’t know what to do with that information. I had been screwed over before by a beautiful woman. Was she playing some sort of trick on me? Trying to lull me into a false sense of security. Before I could think better of it, I blurted, “What would you do if you got pregnant?”
Her eyes widened, and I heard a small gasp. “That won’t happen. We agreed not to consummate so we could get it annulled.”
“Humor me. Say you did get pregnant, what would you do?” I insisted.
“I’m not sure what you’re asking. If I got pregnant with your baby, I would have it and raise it. I wouldn’t expect you to stay married to me just because we had a kid together. I would hope that you would want to be a part of the child’s life though,” she said.
“What about money?” I asked, not liking the hint of urgency in my tone.
“What about it? I have a good job and enough from my trust fund to live comfortably and raise a child on my own. I
wouldn’t refuse financial support for the child if you offered, but I wouldn’t take you to court for it. Whatever you contributed, I would spend on the child and put the excess in an account for them,” she explained. “Why? Do you want to include a section about potential children in the postnuptial agreement?”
I was struggling to come up with a plausible reason for my questions. As she answered each one, she unknowingly provided me with an excuse. “Yes, I think we should. It would look suspicious if we didn’t. I’ll get in touch with my mother’s lawyer first thing Monday morning.”
Chapter Thirteen
Keegan
The following Wednesday, I was stepping out of the shower after work when there was a knock on my bedroom door. I wrapped a towel around my hair and another around my body before opening the door. Shaker stood there slack-jawed, not bothering to hide his obvious perusal of my exposed skin. I cleared my throat to get his attention, “Did you need something?”
“Uh, yeah. I have a copy of the postnuptial agreement. After we review it, if we don’t have any changes, we can sign it and have it notarized and mail it back to the lawyer,” he said to my chest.
“I’ll get dressed and be right out,” I said and closed the door. I didn’t understand Shaker sometimes. He was obviously attracted to me and cared about my safety and well-being, but whenever anything happened between us, he would push me away. I wondered if his actions had anything to do with his kidnapping. He never mentioned it when he was around me, but it must have had some kind of effect on him. Maybe I could talk to Harper about it.
We ordered some food for delivery and reviewed the document while we ate. It was relatively simple once translated from convoluted lawyer speak. Basically, we would each keep what we had prior to the marriage. Any inheritance after the marriage would belong solely to the heir. I would keep my house. We would each keep any income earned and savings generated. In terms of finances and assets, it would be as if we were never married.
The section on potential children gave me pause. It was more detailed than any other portion of the agreement. After reading the entire section, it dawned on me—it was a custody agreement. In order to get the marriage annulled, we couldn’t consummate, so there was no chance of pregnancy. Still, it seemed odd to me that so much detail was included in this type of agreement. It even included a section on abortion.
“Doesn’t this seem like a lot of detail for a child that hasn’t even been created yet?” I asked.
He paused, his forkful of food in midair, and shifted in his seat. His eyes didn’t meet mine when he said, “I have no idea. It’s not like I’ve done this before. I asked for a standard ‘you keep your stuff and I keep mine’ postnuptial agreement, and that’s what they sent.”
He seemed defensive. I shrugged, “I was just curious. It doesn’t really apply to us since you have to have sex to get pregnant. I don’t have a problem with anything in the agreement. Do you?”
“No, I’m good with it. I’ll call Patch when we’re finished eating and see if he’s available to notarize it for us. I want to get it back to the lawyer as soon as possible,” he said.
Later that evening, Patch stopped by my house, our house, and notarized our agreement. I saw him give Shaker a quizzical look, but he didn’t comment. He was in and out within a few minutes, leaving Shaker and me alone in the house. Something had shifted between us, and I was unsure of what to do with myself. “I’m going to head to bed. Today was busy, and I’m worn out,” I told him.
“Oh, our wedding announcement will be in the papers this weekend. Mom included the information for the reception she’s hosting, which will be two weeks from Saturday. Make sure you stay vigilant; Lawrence will no doubt be pissed when he finds out,” Shaker said.
I was so out of my element with this entire situation. Should we register somewhere? I didn’t want people buying gifts for our fake marriage, even if they could afford it. It didn’t seem right. Should we invite our friends from Croftridge? It would be rude if we didn’t, but Shaker said his mother didn’t know about his affiliation with Blackwings MC. I was beginning to feel overwhelmed. I went back to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of wine before curling up in bed with my e-reader. I would worry over the details another day.
***
I had to work the rest of the week through Saturday. Sunday was my only day off until the Friday before the reception. As expected, my phone started blowing up not long after the sun came up. I ignored it and stumbled to the kitchen for coffee. I rounded the corner and froze. Shaker was standing in front of the coffee maker, his back to me, wearing nothing but a pair of loose drawstring pants. If he turned around, I feared I might melt into a puddle of goo on the floor.
I silently backed away and dashed for my room. I quickly brushed my teeth, washed my face, and ran a brush through my hair. I changed from my ratty t-shirt and oversized sweatpants into a form-fitting tank top and yoga pants. Feeling much better about my appearance, I ventured to the kitchen once again to find Shaker still in front of the coffee maker. Facing me.
Holy.
Shit.
My eyes immediately landed on his chiseled chest and slowly slid down to the delectable V exposed by his pants hanging low on his hips. I glanced at the bulge between his legs and then let my eyes slowly make their way back to the top. When I got to his face, I was met with a knowing smirk, “You done eye-fucking me?”
I shrugged, “Maybe. If you don’t like it, put a shirt on.”
His lips twitched. “You cold?” he asked and tipped his head toward my chest.
Motherfucker! I should have put on a bra. My traitorous nipples looked like they were trying to poke through my thin tank top to get to Shaker. I shrugged again, desperately trying to mask my embarrassment with indifference, “I can appreciate a nice male specimen when I see one. Doesn’t mean I’m going to hop on and ride him to town. Now move, I need coffee.”
He pushed off the counter and slapped my ass when he passed, “Whatever you say, wifey.”
I ignored him and poured myself some coffee. Sighing, I sat at the kitchen table and began to look at the missed calls and messages. Almost all were from Lawrence. I rested my forehead in my hands and tried to prepare myself for the ass-chewing I was sure to receive.
My phone buzzed on the table. Before I could answer it, I felt a warm hand on the back of my neck and heard Shaker’s deep voice say, “Good Morning, Senator Hastings, or should I call you Dad?” Good job, Shaker, poke the already pissed off bear.
I could hear Lawrence’s angry voice, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. “No, sir, you may not speak to my wife. I do not care for your tone and do not wish to subject her to it. As I am her husband, anything you need to say to her can be said to me.”
More stern words from Lawrence. I looked to Shaker, worry evident on my face. He winked, “Senator Hastings, I would like to remind you of whom you are speaking with before you continue on with your tirade. I have no problem sharing your tendency to verbally abuse my wife with my family’s friends, many of which I do believe are large contributors to charities you support as well as your own campaign. It would be a shame to lose a large portion of your funding simply because you cannot control your mouth.”
There was a pause. When Lawrence spoke again, his voice was noticeably quieter. “Oh, that’s much better. See, it’s not hard to be civil. Oh, one more thing worth mentioning; this call is being recorded. In fact, I’ll take this opportunity to inform you that any and all calls in the future will also be recorded. Now then, would you still like to speak to Keegan? To offer your congratulations?” Shaker was silent for a few beats. “I assumed not. Good day, Senator Hastings.”
What the hell was that? I was in awe of my husband and the way he put my asshole stepfather in his place. I stood and turned to face Shaker, “That was amazing. Thank you.”
“Let me know if you hear from Preston or the Hensleys. I can take care of them, too,” he said.
I promised I would, k
issed him on the cheek, and went back to my room in hopes of going back to sleep. After an hour of trying, I gave up and took a shower. With it being my only day off before the reception, I needed to find something to wear. I called Harper and invited her to join me. Once I was ready, I picked her up, and we headed to Cedar Valley to do some power shopping.
I still wasn’t sure if we should invite our friends from Croftridge, and I hadn’t talked to Shaker about it. I couldn’t very well tell Harper we were shopping for a dress for my wedding reception that she wasn’t invited to, so I told her I had a formal event to attend. Not a lie, but not the complete truth either. I felt horrible deceiving so many people. I hoped they would understand it was for my safety when it was all over.
We were in the dressing room of the fourth or fifth store we had been to when she asked, “So, you and Shaker, huh? How did that happen?”
“Uh, I don’t know. We hit it off, and, on a whim, we decided to get married,” I said, stumbling over my lie.
“He’s a good guy. I didn’t know him very well before we were both kidnapped, but we developed some sort of bond through the ordeal, and now I consider him to be one of my good friends,” she said.
“Since you mentioned it, do you know what happened to him? He has mentioned it in passing, but he never talks about it in any detail,” I said carefully.
She sighed, “No, I don’t know the details of what happened to him. I’ve tried to get him to talk about it, even urged him to seek counseling, but he always refuses. I know he was taken two days before I was, as a sort of test run in preparation for taking me.” She paused and lowered her voice, “I’m only telling you this because you are his wife. Please don’t mention it to anyone else, and please, please don’t tell him I shared any of this with you.” When I gave her my word, she continued, “When I was trying to get out of the house, I heard him yelling for help. I didn’t know anyone else was in the house, but he knew I was there. He was locked in a room on another floor. I unlocked the door to find him handcuffed to a bed, completely naked. He had bruises and scratches all over his body. I undid his cuffs, and we got out of there as fast as we could. I don’t know if you knew this or not, but the girl who kidnapped us was the daughter of the man who kidnapped me when I was a child. She was posing as my best friend and coworker...and she had also been seeing Shaker for several weeks before the kidnapping.”
Shaker (Blackwings MC Book 5) Page 8
