Married to the Enemy: A Small Town Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Bliss River Book 2)

by Lili Valente

  “No, Daddy.” I shake my head. “Thank you so much for the offer, but I know you’re strapped for cash.” My parents just opened two new Bob and Sue’s Smoke Shack locations last month, and finances will be tight until the new restaurants aren’t in the red.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Mom says. “We’ll find the money.”

  “No, you won’t. I won’t accept that kind of help from you, so just forget it,” I say firmly. “I just need to calm down and think things through.”

  “And we’ll help you.” Lark puts an arm around my shoulders and gives me a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry, okay? There has to be a way to make this better. And we’ll figure it out.”

  Aside from meeting Prince Charming, marrying him, and moving Felicity and I into his castle, I can’t see a swift resolution to all the issues I’ll need to address to level the playing field with my ex, but I know better than to think Prince Charming is a viable option.

  I’m going to have to figure something else out. And fast.

  But what?

  “Let’s have some food for thought,” Lark says as Melody emerges from the house with Felicity in her arms. “And then head to the fair and try to get our minds off our troubles for a little while.”

  “I don’t really feel like going to the fair anymore.” I take Felicity from my sister and hug her a little too tight, making her squirm to be put down to play in the grass.

  “But it will be fun,” Lark insists, tossing Felicity the red ball she loves to chase around the yard like a puppy. “After how hard we’ve worked this summer, we all need to relax and have some fun.”

  “I don’t know,” I murmur, though, before Liam dropped his bomb, I’d been desperate for a night out.

  Melody, Lark, and I have been busting our butts to make Ever After Catering the most coveted wedding and special event caterer in the greater Atlanta area. We’ve been booked solid every weekend this summer—and a ton of weekdays, too—and are now booking weddings through the fall. Next month, Lark is going to increase our base fee by five hundred dollars per reservation and has promised both Melody and I a raise.

  I’ll be able to afford my own place soon, but it might not be soon enough.

  “And you know Nana will never forgive us if we don’t come see her watermelon while it’s wearing its blue ribbon,” Melody says as she retrieves the ribs from the grill and arranges them on a giant serving plate. “She’s prouder of that watermelon than her great-grandchild and all three of her toy poodles combined.”

  I smile, but it feels brittle on my face. “I think Nana will understand why I’m not up to a fair trip.”

  “I think you should go,” my mom says, surprising me. “Don’t let Liam spoil your night. I’ll watch Felicity like we planned, and you can go have fun with your sisters and Mason. You might be surprised what comes to you while you’re out and about. Sometimes the answers to our problems are just waiting for us to relax and let them in.”

  I seriously doubt there are answers waiting for me at the county fair, but after another round of cajoling over dinner, I agreed to head out with Lark, Melody, and Mason.

  Mom’s right. I shouldn’t let Liam ruin anything else for me. If I do, then he wins, and I’m not about to let that happen.

  Not tonight or any other night.

  Not without one hell of a fight.

  Chapter Five

  Nash

  I haven’t been in a fistfight in ten years, not since Dick Nance came to work on a construction site drunk off his ass, ran over my foot with his pick-up truck, and then had the balls to tell me I should have moved out of the way before he plowed through our lunch break area in reverse.

  Even with three broken toes, I’d had no trouble teaching him a lesson about taking responsibility for his actions. There had been two punches—Dick’s sloppy jab at my chin, and my roundhouse that sent him to the ground, where he had the sense to stay until the foreman showed up to fire his ass.

  I’m six foot four and, as my grandma likes to say, built like a brick shithouse. I work out six days a week, starting my day with cardio from six to six-thirty, weights for another hour, and then a lightning fast shower before I cruise into work at the station at eight.

  One of the perks of making Captain last year is being able to set my own hours. No more night shifts for me.

  Now I’m free to go out in the evenings, to enjoy everything Bliss River has to offer, to get involved in the community…and to run into my ex-girlfriend so often I would swear Rachael was stalking me if she hadn’t made it clear she loathes seeing my face.

  At the moment—standing in the fading light outside the entrance to the county fair—she looks like she’s sucked a lemon dry.

  She’s doing her best to pretend she hasn’t noticed me three people behind her and her “new man” in line, but she knows I’m here. Every self-conscious tug at her tee shirt and toss of her hair betrays her. But even if I couldn’t read Rachael like a book—a poorly written one I should have put down way before I reached the shitty ending—Lee’s constant fondling of her ass leaves no doubt he’s aware he has an audience.

  His favorite audience. Since I caught him in bed with Rachael—in my bed, which I have since sold, and which sheets I burned to ensure all the oily, used-car salesman germs were banished from my home—he’s reveled in every opportunity to rub my face in his “big win.”

  As if dating a compulsive liar who sleeps around while her boyfriend is working a double shift is something to get excited about.

  I want to tell the bastard I’m glad he helped show me her true colors, and that I wouldn’t take back a woman who’d cheated on me for a lifetime of free bacon—the applewood smoked kind that’s basically meat crack.

  But I refuse to give him the satisfaction. I didn’t lose my shit when I found him balls deep in the woman I’d trusted to be faithful to me, and I won’t lash out now.

  I will remain calm, cool, collected…

  Or at least I’m going to try.

  Because yeah, I am pissed. Pissed at Rachael for betraying me, pissed at Lee for enjoying being part of it so much, and pissed at myself for trusting someone I shouldn’t.

  Again.

  Seems I would have learned my lesson by now. I put criminals behind bars for a living, but when it comes to women—redheads in particular—my “danger radar” is clearly fucked all to hell.

  I can’t believe I was seriously considering Rachael’s “put a ring on it” ultimatum. I should have my head examined.

  Making a mental note to glance at the list of counselors on the staff website, I shift my gaze away from the repulsive couple and pray to make it through the line without having to exchange words with either one of them.

  Unfortunately for me, God must be busy elsewhere.

  Ten feet from the ticket window, Lee turns, affecting surprise as his gaze catches mine. “Hey there, Geary, how the hell are you?” he says with an oily grin, showcasing his tiny, Chiclet-shaped teeth as he ushers the people in between us ahead of him in the line.

  Why on earth he would think I’d want to stand next to the two of them is beyond me, but I am cool. Calm.

  And I’m not going to strike a civilian, no matter how much I want to.

  “Glad to see you out and about!” His brows furrow in a poor imitation of contrition. “Sorry again about the misunderstanding.”

  In what universe is fucking another man’s girlfriend considered a misunderstanding? It’s not like he thought Rachael was someone else, and he knew we were in a serious relationship. He was banging her in my house, for Christ’s sake.

  But I don’t say any of those things. I don’t say anything at all. I simply incline my head and shift my gaze to Rachael’s face, silently daring her to call Lee on his bullshit.

  But her puckered lips only stretch into a tight smile. “Yeah, things like this are hard in a small town.”

  I bite the inside of my lip hard enough to send pain flashing through my gums but it’s worth it. I don’t infor
m Rachael that I imagine being betrayed by someone you thought you loved is hard no matter what size town you’re living in. I just have to keep my mouth shut for another minute or two and we’ll be through the line.

  “But you’ve been so cool about it,” Lee says, his eyes narrowing. “Makes a guy think.”

  “Think what?” I shoot back before I can stop myself.

  “Think that things ended up the way they should have.” He wraps an arm around Rachael’s waist, drawing her close as she makes a half-hearted attempt to push him away with her hand on his chest. “Rachael deserves a man who’s head over heels for her.”

  That isn’t at all what she deserves, but I continue to hold my tongue.

  Soon I’ll be inside, surrounded by family and ready to enjoy a night without any liars in it. My two oldest sisters and their five rowdy kids are always a good time, and who knows, maybe I’ll stay late after they leave. Maybe I’ll meet someone new tonight. Back before Rachael ripped my heart out with her claws and gnawed it to pieces, I was pretty good at picking up women.

  Damn good, if I do say so myself.

  “Stop, Lee,” Rachael murmurs as he presses a kiss to her cheek. “You’re embarrassing me.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed, baby, Nash is happy for us,” Lee says with a smug glance my way. “Aren’t you, Nash?”

  The urge to solve this with my fists rises inside of me again. If I hadn’t sworn an oath to protect and serve, I’m not sure I’d be able to control myself. I mean, seriously, how good would it feel to knock that leer off Lee Otter’s chubby face?

  Very, very good.

  He’s an even bigger asshole than he was in high school.

  Back then, Lee had only one chin and was a decent football player, but not as good as I was. I was the quarterback and probably could have played college ball if I’d had any interest in getting my head smashed in for four more years. But I only played sports as an excuse to stay on campus after school instead of going straight home to help take care of my brothers and sisters.

  I loved them all—still do—but there are ten of them for God’s sakes. That’s at least four too many for any reasonable couple to unleash upon the earth and six too many for my parents to have any chance of taking care of on their own.

  They leaned on me and my oldest sisters a lot when we were growing up. It was something we accepted and made the best of, chipping in to help the Geary clan get by, but that didn’t mean we didn’t crave time alone. Time to be individuals instead of one of the Geary horde.

  Between three-thirty and five-thirty during football season, and every game night, I got to be just Nash, not Nash the surrogate parent or the short order cook or the referee for my younger brothers, who made it their mission in life to wrestle each other to the death as soon as Mom left for her evening shift at the candle factory. It was my time, and my oldest sister Raleigh stepped in to run herd over the tribe until I got home.

  That’s what meant the most to me—the space to be myself—not the game.

  Lee had seen that and hated me for it. I can’t count the times he whined that I should quit and give someone else a chance to lead the team if I didn’t love football the way the rest of them did.

  I ignored him. He didn’t care about the rest of the team, he cared about himself, and even if I’d quit, he never would have been quarterback. He didn’t have the strength, coordination, or focus. Not to mention the fact that he was the kind of whiny, passive aggressive shit no one wants to follow. But he hadn’t been the sort to stab other people in the back.

  Just goes to show not all of us improve with age…

  “Or am I wrong?” Lee continues in a mocking tone that makes my teeth grind together. “I really hope I’m not. It would be so much better if we could all bury the hatchet. Since Rachael and I are engaged and all.”

  My jaw drops. I can’t help it. I’m too shocked to hide it, though I regret the loss of control instantly as triumph flickers behind Lee’s dirt brown eyes.

  But, hell, it’s only been eight weeks since Rachael told me she needed a ring from me by the end of the year or she was going to have to move on. Only six weeks since I caught her in bed with Lee.

  Six weeks! I haven’t had time to get the smell of her perfume out of the curtains. I still find her tiny pink-trimmed socks hiding under the washing machine in the laundry room. I still wake up expecting her to be lying next to me and feel that unwelcome pang of loneliness when I realize the other side of the bed is empty. Not a pang for Rachael, but a pang for someone, for that forever woman I’m beginning to doubt I’ll find.

  “Show him your ring, honey,” Lee says, while I fight to arrange my features into something resembling disinterest.

  But I’m not disinterested.

  I’m ashamed of myself. I feel like a fucking fool. I should have seen through Rachael so much sooner. It shouldn’t have taken a year to realize she cares more about landing a husband, any husband, than she did about me. I wasn’t special. I was a mark who didn’t pay out so she’d moved on to someone else. Even knowing Lee probably means nothing to her, either, isn’t enough to banish the sour taste rising in my throat.

  At the end of the day, Lee doesn’t matter. Rachael’s the one who conned me.

  And Rachael’s the one who can still make it hurt when she says, “Come on, Lee, he doesn’t want to see my ring. Nash has no interest in rings, do you Nash?” She arches a cool brow as she meets my gaze, giving the dig a little extra oomph, making my stomach knot as anger rushes in to mix with the shame.

  Anger and shame are a powerful combination. And a stupid, dangerous one. No one ever made a good decision inspired by that particular cocktail.

  I should keep my mouth shut until I’m steady in my skin again.

  Instead my lips part and crazy comes pouring out, “I wouldn’t say so, no. But there aren’t a lot of choices around here. I’m thinking I’ll head into Atlanta next weekend to look for something special for my girl.”

  Now it’s Rachael’s turn to pick her jaw up off the ground. Watching her struggle to find words feels so damned good it takes a few seconds for the voice of reason to pierce the rush.

  But when it does, it doesn’t hold back, Great work, jackass. What the hell have you done? Now you’re going to look like an even bigger fool when Rachael finds out you don’t even have a date for Friday night, let alone a fiancée.

  “Right, as if,” Rachael sputters, almost as if she can read my thoughts. “I’ll believe it when I see it. For a guy with so much muscle, you sure are afraid of other ‘M’ words.”

  She lets out a little laugh. Lee joins in, but he’s looking a lot less smug after the reminder that the only reason he has a beautiful redhead on his arm is because I refused to put a ring on her finger first. He’s deflating before my eyes, in fact.

  I almost feel sorry for him. Sorry for this chode who banged my girlfriend in my bed.

  I have to get away from them before I do something truly crazy like offer to start a Rachael Recovery Group with the douchebag.

  Mercifully, we’re finally at the front of the line. With a final round of tight grins and a promise to see me around, Lee hustles Rachael to the ticket window on the right while I head to the one on the left.

  I take my sweet time deciding on which admission packet I’d like to purchase, wondering if Raleigh and Alexandria will care if I don’t show up tonight, after all. My siblings and I rarely make plans that are set in stone. With a family as large as ours, it’s impossible to accommodate everyone’s schedules. We tend to keep things casual, letting each other know when and where we’re going to be on a given night, with an understood open invitation to any Geary who wants to show up and join the fun. I’ve been looking forward to riding the rollercoaster with my nieces and nephews and spoiling them with all the pricey fair junk food we were too poor to afford as kids, but now…

  Now I just want to go home, plop down in front of the T.V. with a beer or six, and wait for Saturday to begin.

&nbs
p; Saturday is my favorite day of the week, a day to take my time with my workout, have a big breakfast afterward, then head out to the park to catch a pick-up game with my buddies or take my friend Mason’s boat out on the lake when he doesn’t have plans to use it.

  I’ve enjoyed having a boat around this summer way more than I thought I would. If Mason decides to move out of his condo and into a place with ample parking, I’ll have to save up to get one of my own. But until he does, I’ll be logging as much time on the lake as I can. There’s nothing like fishing to get your mind off of things you’d rather not think about.

  Like ex-girlfriends getting married and lies about a fiancée who doesn’t exist.

  “Fuck me,” I mutter as I shuffle through the gates with a fistful of tickets I’m not sure I’ll use and move off to one side of the entrance.

  I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Mason’s number, mentally making a deal with myself. If he says I can use the boat tomorrow, then I’ll go home, get a good night’s rest, and plan to hit the lake as soon as I’m done with my work out tomorrow. If he’s taking the boat out himself, I’ll head into the fair and try to have fun with my family.

  Better to drown my sorrows in cotton candy and niece and nephew giggles than a six pack, though the risk of running into Rachael and Lee again does cast a certain pall over option two.

  Mason finally picks up after the fourth ring. “Hey, Nash, what’s up?” he asks in a loud voice, shouting to be heard over something roaring in the background.

  “Nothing much, just wondering if I can use the boat tomorrow.”

  “What?” Mason shouts. “Sorry, man, I can’t hear you. We’re at the fair, by the rollercoaster.”

  I laugh. “I’m right outside the entrance,” I shout back. “I’ll be over in a few and we can talk in person.”