Tough Luck Hero

by Maisey Yates

  Unfortunately, since he wasn’t one for casual sex, it meant there would be no sex with anyone else. Also, they were technically married. Which presented a problem. Not just because they lived in a small town, but because for some reason his conscience didn’t like the idea of sleeping with anyone else while they were still bound by a marriage license. As ridiculous as it was to feel bound by a license he couldn’t even remember signing.

  Nothing about this made sense. It hadn’t from the very beginning.

  And more and more, he was starting to wonder why exactly he thought it was such a bad idea for the two of them to be with each other, at least for a little while.

  Because you don’t like her.

  Right. Of course, he liked her a whole lot more when her breasts were pressed up against his chest and her tongue was in his mouth.

  He gritted his teeth. He was going to have to forget that. Because he did the right thing. Even when it felt terrible.

  CHAPTER TEN

  HER STOMACH HADN’T stopped fluttering all day. She trusted her campaign volunteers to see to the details of the dinner. But it was still all she could do not to show up early and micromanage.

  She liked micromanaging. That was the truth.

  But she didn’t have time. She was still acting president of the Chamber of Commerce while running this campaign. That meant working full-time and trying to get votes. So, she had had to finish out the workday, then she had to go back to Colton’s place and get dressed. Which was what she was currently stuck in the middle of.

  It wasn’t black tie, but she needed something that looked polished. Now she sort of wished it was formal. Then she could’ve put on an awesome dress. As it was, she had decisions to make.

  She ended up deciding on a navy-and-white checkered top, a colored vest and a pair of skinny jeans with ankle boots. That was appropriately rustic for the surroundings. She did the kind of loose, effortless braid that actually took almost an hour and transformed her fingers into claws, but the end result was adorable if she did say so herself.

  She added a berry lipstick and some navy-colored eye shadow that complemented the shirt. And with that, she felt slightly ready to face her potential constituents.

  Sometimes, it dawned on her that she was officially a politician. And she wondered how on earth she had gotten here. She supposed it was an achievement. But it was kind of a strange one. An exhilarating one.

  Really, the only one she had ever aimed for because of how much she loved her town. And that was the real reason people should get into politics, anyway. The desire to serve. For the love of a place and its people.

  With that little internal mantra firmly in place she headed down the stairs and almost ran right into Colton.

  And oh, sweet Lord, tonight was going to be a slow descent into madness.

  Colton was... Well, there were words for what he was, but all she came up with was a strange, inarticulate squeak.

  He had a cowboy hat on, which did things to her insides that weren’t decent. He was also wearing a red plaid flannel shirt, tucked into a pair of dark jeans, accentuated by a belt with a very large...buckle. Of course, her eyes had drifted a little bit south of said buckle.

  Inoffensive...

  Inoffensive was not the word.

  His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, displaying those incredibly enticing forearms. Seriously, who would have ever thought forearms could be particularly enticing. Well, maybe a lot of people had. But she hadn’t.

  He was wearing black cowboy boots, and a black cowboy hat, and she felt like she was having some kind of very strange Westerngasm, which she would have said previously that she was absolutely not prone to.

  She really needed some water. Just so very thirsty.

  “Does this meet your criteria?”

  “It’s fine.”

  If by fine she was really meaning damaging to her sanity, then she was being completely honest.

  “You look like...you look like you should be carrying a basket of apples.”

  “Okay, that’s weird. Why apples?”

  “I don’t know. You have a wholesome country girl thing going on.”

  She frowned. “You have a very strange idea of what a country girl is.”

  “I feel like I would be a better expert on the subject than you. Since you’re an import.”

  “Yes, from the greater metropolitan area of Seattle.”

  “Fake country girl,” he said, his tone filled with mock scolding that she strangely found her body responding to.

  She swallowed. “Well, you’re going to have to deal with me, sans apples. I hope you can manage the disappointment.”

  A smile curved his lips, and she felt her own lips tug into an even deeper frown in response. “I think I can handle that.” He gripped the edge of the counter and she was powerless to keep herself from admiring his hands. They were workman’s hands. Large, rough. She could remember easily the way he had held her as he’d kissed her up against the woodshed.

  And it was all flooding back to her now. And along with it, heat was flooding into her face.

  “I’m not exactly sure what you need me to do,” he said, shifting his hold on the counter, drawing her eyes straight back to those fingers. Those hands.

  “You’re my basket of apples,” she said.

  “Come again, peaches?”

  “If you call me peaches I might kill you.”

  “Not at a political event you wouldn’t.”

  “I feel pretty confident I could get acquitted.”

  “Okay, expound on the basket of apples.”

  She sighed heavily. For some reason fruit metaphors were abounding. “You’re my accessory.” As soon as she said that, she got a little giddy kick in her chest. She was enjoying the idea a little too much. “The arm candy.”

  “I’m your arm candy?”

  “My trophy husband.” And then she smiled, because this idea she actually enjoyed. Not only because she usually did this sort of thing alone, but because Colton was Colton, and she knew that he was used to being the center of...well, everything. She also knew that Natalie had been prepared to step into that role. To be his arm candy at any given event. But the tables were turning. And she wasn’t even going to pretend she wasn’t enjoying it.

  “Does that mean I have to get Botox?”

  “You are a little bit...rugged around your mouth. But, with men that’s often a plus. One of the great inequalities in society.” Except, she couldn’t really complain about it because she liked him rugged. The lines next to his mouth, little ones feathering out from his eyes. It gave him character. A little something extra to look at.

  “I’m rugged? Rugged around the mouth. Excellent. I’ll add that to my list of qualities. It goes underneath inoffensive penis.”

  Heat streaked across her face. “Well, you do that. I’m not going to keep a list. But if you must.”

  “I’m just learning a lot of new things about myself. You know, from you.”

  “That’s funny, you’ve taught me nothing.”

  He moved forward, and she felt faint. Was certain that she was going to find herself hauled up against that hard chest again, wrapped tightly in his embrace, that firm uncompromising mouth kissing her until neither of them could breathe.

  But that didn’t happen.

  Lydia, calm thyself.

  She was breathing hard, her cheeks were most certainly red, and she had little doubt that Colton knew exactly what she had been thinking he might do.

  Instead of grabbing her, he slowly looped his arm through hers, sliding his palm down her forearm, over the back of her hand, before gradually lacing his fingers through hers. She held her hand stiff, straight. Because she couldn’t move. If she did, she might do something humiliating. She might run out
of the room. Or worse, she might lean in and smell him.

  He smelled so good. Even from where she was standing. Pine and salt from the air outside, wood and hay.

  She felt herself sway slightly, and she jerked herself back.

  “You’re going to have to hold my hand, peaches. Otherwise this isn’t going to look real.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I have a strict policy on public displays of affection and professional events.”

  “No politician does, Lydia, and you know that.”

  His blue eyes were locked on to hers, and she found she didn’t want to look away even though she should. It made her unbearably conscious of everything. Of the fact that her mouth was dry, and her lips were dry, and she desperately wanted to lick them, but if she did it would seem provocative. Or maybe it wouldn’t seem that provocative. She wasn’t much of a seductress.

  She could feel the challenge radiating from him, could see that he was going to keep persisting until she gave in. Well, she wasn’t a coward. And she had held hands with him before. She had done a lot more than that.

  Slowly, she curved her fingers over his, the warmth of his touch burning through her, making her stomach tight.

  “There,” she said. “Is that convincing enough?”

  “It’s a start,” he said, his voice suddenly a little bit rougher.

  “Okay, dearest husband. Are you ready to go to the hoedown?”

  His smile widened, and a corresponding sensation unfurled in her stomach. “I’m ready to show the whole town what a good trophy I am.”

  * * *

  IT WAS KIND of an incredible experience, to see how many people had come out to support Lydia. He had only ever really looked at her through his own lens, and Natalie’s. Natalie had definitely not been her biggest fan for the past few months.

  He remembered listening to her going on and on ad nauseum about the betrayal. And, being a guy, he had asked why on earth she still had Lydia in the wedding.

  She had explained to him, very slowly, as though he were stupid, that it was too late to change the bridal party. That Lydia already had her dress, and that expelling her from the group would only look petty. Which would look worse for her father.

  And so, Lydia had remained, and Colton had been forced to endure a great many rantings on the subject. Not that he’d objected on a personal level. Because he hadn’t exactly been Lydia’s number one fan.

  Well, now here he was, standing in the middle of the Garretts’ barn all but wearing a campaign badge.

  Just as he had that thought, Sadie Garrett breezed by and handed him a button. “You have to wear this,” she said, smiling, her expression dazzling.

  “Thank you, Sadie,” he said, taking the red, white and blue button emblazoned with Lydia’s name and pinning it to his shirt.

  “It matches,” she said, looking far too cheerful. It made him wonder how much she knew.

  “Why, so it does.”

  Sadie bounded off after that, continuing to hand out buttons and straighten centerpieces on the various tables set up throughout the space. There was going to be a dinner, a barbecue, and everyone was shelling out mass dollars a plate.

  He supposed, given that his own bank account was relatively flush, he should probably make a donation. But then, wasn’t standing in as her husband donation enough? He had essentially donated his body to the cause.

  Lydia was fussing with chair placement and a clipboard over next to a staging area that had been set up. He supposed he should go stand with her. Or maybe it wasn’t appropriate. He wasn’t really sure. He didn’t want to loom.

  The fact of the matter was he didn’t know anything about politics and Lydia seemed to know a lot. There wasn’t much he could contribute.

  Maybe he would seek out a beer.

  But he didn’t want to look disinterested, either. Okay, it was more difficult to be a trophy spouse than he had given credit for.

  Colton watched the entire Garrett family file in. Kate was about as round as his sister, though not wearing the flowing maternity dresses that Sierra favored. Kate was wearing jeans and an oversize flannel top, untucked. It looked like it was probably Jack’s. Jack was standing with her, holding on to her elbow, playing the part of solicitous husband much better than Colton ever could.

  After them came Connor and Liss, who seemed to have a slight bump herself. Colton hadn’t heard that they were expecting a new addition to their family, but then, he didn’t really seek out that kind of gossip.

  He looked up at the lights that were strung overhead, giving the whole space a warm glow. Really, it was pretty perfect. Lydia was smart, steering clear of the formal affair. He had experienced his fair share of them, but that didn’t mean he liked them.

  That kind of stuff was old money. Old politics. Old, dusty family names like his own. Lydia was trying to separate herself from that, and this event would do a great job.

  Eli came in a few moments later, obviously scanning the room for Sadie.

  “She’s running around,” Colton said.

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” Eli said.

  “Can I get you something? A beer?”

  Eli shook his head. “No, thank you. I’m not allowed to drink.”

  For a full second, Colton wondered if it was because Eli actually got rowdy when he drank. Rowdy Eli Garrett would be a sight indeed. If there was a more uptight, staid individual in the entire town, well, Colton was married to her.

  But then, he knew pretty quickly that couldn’t be why. “Not allowed?” Colton pressed.

  “Sadie says I can’t until she can again.”

  “Oh,” Colton responded. “You Garretts are prolific.”

  “Pretty much anything that looks like permanent commitment terrifies Sadie. So, I had to wait much longer than I wanted to to marry her. And we are jumping into the family thing a little later than everyone else. And I had to make trades.”

  “No alcohol.”

  “That’s just the tip of the iceberg. I’m not allowed to do anything she can’t do.” Eli smiled. “Of course, I don’t really mind.”

  “Marriage,” Colton said, not really sure if that was the appropriate response.

  But all of this made him wonder exactly what he would’ve been in for if he were actually married. If he and Natalie had actually gone through with it. He would have had to deal with pregnant Natalie. Though he couldn’t imagine her asking him to forgo alcohol, or anything like that. Their lives hadn’t been like this. They hadn’t been all meshed together.

  “Right,” Eli said.

  Colton still had the sense Eli would happily use him for target practice if need be.

  “I should go see if she needs something.”

  “Soon she may need you to abstain from alcohol.”

  Colton nearly choked. “I doubt it. If you haven’t noticed, Lydia is a touch ambitious. I think I’ll just be an assistant pamphlet distributor for a few years.” Months. Until all of this was over.

  The barn was starting to fill up with people he didn’t know quite as well, and folks were beginning to fill up their respective places at the table.

  He walked over to where Lydia was standing and put his hand on her elbow. She jumped, nearly losing the campaign buttons she was holding in her hand. “What?” she asked.

  “Where are we sitting?”

  Much like Sadie, her smile grew strangely wide. “Kind of everywhere.”

  “What does that mean? How hard am I going to have to work to get my barbecue?”

  “Well, we’re going to have dinner at every table. We are going to rotate while we eat.”

  “That sounds exceedingly friendly of us.”

  “You said yourself, you’re used to this kind of thing. You should be really good at it.” She smiled yet more unconvi
ncingly. “In fact, I know you are. Because I saw the way you charmed Marlene at my office the other day.”

  “I am good at it.”

  “I mean, not with me...but with other people. So as long as we don’t talk everything should go well.”

  For some reason, that devil that lived inside of him, previously undiscovered, really wanted to prod at her. Because there was something intoxicating about it. It was this. The fact that he felt like he didn’t have any control. That he was effectively being neutered, and yeah, taking the position of a trophy spouse. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t quite resist.

  “I don’t know, peaches. I think I’m pretty damn good with you.”

  She flushed, just like she had back in the kitchen before they had come here tonight. She had turned a pretty compelling shade of red when she had first seen him, and then, when he had gone to take her hand she had taken on the color of a poppy.

  Of course, it wasn’t as though he was unaffected. He had touched that soft skin on her hand and had gotten hard as a rock. Kissing her down at the woodshed had been a mistake, there was no other word for it.

  He had been doing okay controlling himself where she was concerned ever since she had moved in. But then they had kissed. And after that? Well, after that he had gone to bed every night with a hard-on that wouldn’t quit. And he’d woken up with it, too. Persistent bastard.

  “Not dignifying that with a response. Because peaches isn’t my name.”

  “That’s going to make socializing at dinner a little bit difficult.”

  “Oh no,” Lydia whispered, her gaze on something just past him. He turned, and she slapped him on the forearm. “Don’t look,” she admonished him.

  “I’m sorry, but I wanted to see exactly what we were upset about.”

  “I’m upset about it. Not you. You don’t have to be upset.” She sighed heavily. “Actually, upset isn’t even the word. It’s just I didn’t really need to deal with Nolan tonight. I have guilt.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “My ex-boyfriend. It’s been a long time since we dated. And, we do have to deal with each other since he’s involved in the Historical Society. But I’m not usually married when that happens.”