by CA Quigg
"What the hell was all that about?"
"What?" he looked genuinely perplexed.
"The PDA. Kissing me on the head, dragging me against you. The making her think I was pregnant."
"You want to make it believable, don't you? You know it'll be all over town by this afternoon."
"My sisters. My mom. Jesus fucking Christ. I haven't told any of them I'm getting married. They're going to kill me and will probably disown me."
"I'm sure they won't kill or disown you."
"Is that so, Mr. Know It All?" I jabbed my fingertip into his rock-hard chest. "One of my sisters owns a bridal store. She lives and breathes weddings. My mother is romantic to the last cell in her body."
Icy wind whipped at my hair, sending tendrils across my face. The dense, dark clouds threatening a downpour all morning decided now was a good time to open up. Rain lashed down, but neither of us moved toward the house for shelter.
"My other sisters will want to know why I kept you a secret." I paced back and forth, not caring that my clothes now stuck to my skin. "We need to come up with a plausible story as to why we don't have a ring and why we didn't tell anyone. And on top of that, everyone will think I'm a heartless bitch. My dad is in the hospital, and here I am buying a house with a man no one knows. A man I don't even know."
"Your dad knows me. You know me, sort of. That's enough."
"You have no clue how small town gossip works, do you."
His eyes darkened to the color of the sky. "I know firsthand. And as for a ring-." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, wine colored box, "-I was going to wait until later to give you this, but here." He thrust the box in my direction.
"How very romantic of you. I've always dreamed of having an engagement ring thrown at me in the pouring rain."
Rain continued to pelt down, sideways now, soaking my hair and plastering my clothes to my skin. With shaking hands, I opened what felt like Pandora's Box. Nestled inside white satin sat a crystal-clear solitaire set in a white-gold setting. If I'd had any say on my engagement ring, I would have chosen something just as elegant and understated. It wasn't flashy. It was perfect.
"Do you like it?"
Did I hear a hint of hope in his voice? Not wanting the shiny bauble to hypnotize me any further, I snapped the box shut. "Doesn't matter if I like it or not."
"But it does, Lizzie. It matters very much." He took the box from my hand and fell onto the slick mud covering the ground.
"How many times do I have to tell you, it's Elizabeth, and you're an idiot. Get up. It's raining, in case you haven't noticed."
"You wanted a story. I'm giving you one." He cleared his throat, opened the box, and thrust it toward me in a dramatic gesture. "Elizabeth Anne Beaufort, will you give me the honor of being my fake wife?"
Peels of laughter fell from me. Everything about him being down on one knee was a combination of the cutest, stupidest, and sexiest thing I'd ever seen.
If his were a real proposal, how would I act? Would I scream? Flail my arms? Fall to the ground beside him? Or would I cup my hand over my mouth in disbelief?
For a moment, just a brief moment, would it be so bad to believe everything was real? That a man, a hot man who didn't seem like he'd escaped from a mental institution, was asking me to spend the rest of my life with him? That someone found me worthy of love?
Rain dripped from his eyelashes and trickled down his face. "You know how to keep a man waiting, Lizzie."
For once, I didn't correct him. "Caden whatever your middle name is Gallagher. I will give you the honor of being your fake wife."
"It's Joseph."
He slipped the ring onto my finger. It fit, but I shouldn't have been surprised. Caden wasn't the kind of man who left things to chance.
"Can I call you Lizzie?"
"You're going to call me it anyway, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"Then, fine."
When he stood, he tugged me into his arms and swung me around. My hands found their way to his shoulders, and I hung on, happy to be lost in the moment, happy to be here with him. His smile was wide and filled with joy, but he didn't fool me. He was relieved, not happy.
He lowered me to the ground. His skin and clothes were as soaked as mine, and his shirt stuck to every inch of his skin. The smell of fresh rain and the ever-present scent of the ocean intermingled with the delicate notes of his cologne. If I could bottle the blend, I could make a fortune.
"I'll be the best fake husband you'll ever have."
"You can't be any worse than the last one. At least you admit you're fake. The other one just pretended he loved me."
He pressed his forehead against mine, and said, "Let's get out of the rain. See if we can find a way to dry off. I spotted a dryer in the laundry room."
He scooped me up like I weighed less than a bag of sugar and squelched through the muddy driveway to what would soon be our home.
"Put me down." I kicked my legs and wriggled to get free.
"If you don't stop kicking, we'll both fall, and we'll have muck in places muck should never be."
Once we reached the porch, he lowered me, and I gazed over the horizon.
"Is it weird that I love a rainy day? Something about it relaxes me." I clasped my arms in front of my body and shivered. I wanted to add there was something about being with him that relaxed me more than any rainstorm could.
He lifted my hand and entwined his fingers with mine. My ring sparkled in the subdued light. Seeing it on my finger every day would take a lot of getting used to. After the last time, I swore I'd never put a ring on my finger again.
"You make the ring look beautiful," he whispered.
"A gnarled fisherman's hand would make this ring look beautiful."
"Take the compliment, Lizzie." He brushed a wet tendril of hair from my forehead. "Would you ever think about going back to your natural color? If I were a betting man, I'd bet you'd be even more of a knockout as a blonde."
I swallowed hard. He was so close I could taste him.
"It's crossed my mind a few times, but I've been a brunette for so long, I'm not sure I'd recognize myself any other way."
"Think about it." He opened the front door and stood back, gesturing for me to enter. "Let's get inside. You're freezing."
I ducked past him into the silent house, but before I got very far, he wrapped an arm around my stomach.
"You always smell delicious." He pressed his lips to the back of my head, and I did nothing to stop him. "Like the first day of summer. Like the beginning of something new."
"I make my own perfume. Neroli from orange blossoms and vetiver from grass found in India. They balance each other out. One's a top note. The other's a base note." I was babbling, but I couldn't seem to help it. Next, I'd recite the plant's properties and their chemical compositions.
He stepped in front of me, and I swallowed hard. I should walk away from this, from him. Find my family and explain before they heard about my upcoming marriage from the town crier.
"Ever since our kiss last night," he said, his voice heavy and raspy. "I've thought of nothing else. I shouldn't want you this much. It wasn't part of my plan, but I can't help it."
"Then don't. Kiss me."
His eyes flashed. "There can be nothing between us. I'm not looking for that kind of relationship. What we have isn't real. Can never be real." He brushed his lips back and forth over my forehead.
"I know," I replied in a whisper. "Maybe if we get this, whatever this is, out of our systems we can go back to normal."
"If you're sure."
"I'm very sure." If he didn't kiss me in the next second, I would tackle him to the floor, pin his hands above his head and give him no other choice except kissing me.
"On a scale between one and ten, how sure."
"Stop talking and just kiss me."
His
lips swept over mine, but he didn't kiss me. A frustrated moan fell from my lips. The teasing had to stop. I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his, and as soon as I did, my body vibrated and wouldn't stop.
Caden broke our kiss and stepped away.
"Why'd you stop? I thought we were getting this out of our systems?"
"Your phone," he said.
"My phone?"
"Your phone's vibrating."
"Oh." I dug my hand into my jacket pocket and grabbed my phone. "This is Elizabeth," I said when I answered.
"Ms. Beaufort, this is Melinda. Your dad's fully awake and is asking for you."
While my dad was lying in a hospital bed, I was busy tangling tongues with a practical stranger. A few minutes more, and my clothes would've been flung all over the hallway. I was the worst daughter in the world and deserved to get struck by lightning.
"I'm on my way." I hung up and moved toward the door.
"Is everything okay?"
"My dad's awake."
Chapter 10
Elizabeth
Still wearing my wet clothes, I shoved open the door to my dad's room and rushed inside.
"Dad, thank God you're awake. I thought…I don't know what I thought. But you're awake. You're okay. I'm so relieved."
"Are you?" There was a slight slur in his words, but the bite was unmissable, and his surly gaze cut so deep I was surprised blood didn't gush from my veins.
"Of course I'm relieved. You're my dad."
A dull ache settled in my chest. Stupid. Dumb. Foolish. Expecting him to haul me into his arms and say how much he loved me was a childish fantasy, but would it be so damn hard for him to at least look happy to see me?
"Aren't you glad you're awake? The doctor said it'll take a few weeks, could even be months, before you're back to normal, but you should make a full recovery. I'll hire a nurse. We'll get you everything you need."
"If he's standing there, am I to believe you've made the right decision?" He nodded toward Caden who stood by the threshold with his arms crossed looking every bit the bad boy with the outline of his muscles visible through his damp t-shirt.
My dad turned his attention back to me. "Where's the paperwork? I want to see what kind of mess you've gotten us into and what I have to do to get us out of it."
Caden stepped forward and reached for my hand, but I jerked away before he touched me. I couldn't afford to depend on him for comfort, but the concern in his eyes touched me deeply.
Caden cleared his throat. "There's nothing to worry about. Lizzie negotiated a good deal."
My dad tensed, and he gripped the covers lying over his waist. "I'll be the judge of that." He gave me a wide smile, something he only did when he wanted something, and said, "Be a good girl and sneak me in some whiskey."
"Are you serious? Drinking is what has you in this mess." The headache knocking at my temples hinted at the migraine to come. "Can you remember what happened? Tom will want to talk to you as soon as he can."
"Have you seen my head? Of course I don't remember what happened. The last thing I remember is I went for a walk, then nothing. The past few days are flashes of doctors poking and prodding at me and you holding my hand talking gibberish. Every time I'd fall into a deep sleep, I'd hear your nagging voice."
I tried to swallow down the football sized lump clogging my throat, but it wouldn't budge. I focused on the beeping monitor beside the bed so I wouldn't have to see the disdain on his face. And before I spoke again, I took several deep antiseptic scented breaths. "When I left, you had a glass of whiskey in your hand. How much more did you have?"
"Didn't you hear me? I can't remember."
I rested a hand on the mattress and turned to face Caden. My dad wouldn't open up in front of him. "Can you give us a minute?"
He glanced from me to my dad and then back to me. "I'll be outside if you need anything."
When Caden had left the room and had closed the door, I pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed. "What's going on, Dad? If you're in trouble, let me know. We'll be able to pay off any money you owe. The sale should go through soon, and then we'll be okay. We'll have enough money to keep us comfortable." He ignored me and stared into space. "Talk to me. Tell me what's going on. Did someone do this to you? "
He huffed out an aggravated breath. "I fell. I hit my head. The only thing going on is that I'm in a hospital with no way out. Bring me those contracts. I need to make sure you haven't sold us down the river. I should never have agreed to power of attorney financial or otherwise."
Anger hummed at the back of my brain, and I shook it away. Now wasn't the time to get into an argument with him. He would have to listen whether he liked it or not.
"You're not getting your hands on any paperwork or liquor until you're out of the hospital. And even then, I'm not sure about the liquor. If you want your concussion to heal, you need to listen to the doctors and nurses and rest."
If my dad could've jumped out of bed and stood his ground, I was sure he would have.
"Unacceptable. I'll call my lawyer."
"About the liquor or contracts?"
"Don't get smart with me."
"Do you honestly think I'd do something that wasn't in our best interests? I love the club more than you. I want to see it succeed. You need to rest and recover. Leave the business to me. There's something else you should know." Not wanting to see his reaction when I told him about the wedding date, I gazed at my clasped fingers. Given he was already an old grouch, his time in hospital and confinement to a bed meant his reaction could go either way-boiling anger or face-splitting happiness. "We're getting married next week. We're announcing it today."
"I suppose that bastard O'Halloran will walk you down the aisle." The controlled tone of his voice told me his anger was on a slow simmer and could boil over at any minute.
"I can walk myself down the aisle. I don't want to drag anyone else into this farce."
When I stepped into the hallway, Caden's face lit up as if he was genuinely happy to see me.
Wrapping my arms around his neck and begging him to take me home and take me to bed seemed more and more appealing. So what if I asked him to take me to bed? It wasn't like I had any dignity left. Stress and worry pushed my shoulders to the floor, and I'd give anything to have them lifted if only for a few hours.
"All okay?" he asked.
"Nothing I can't handle. Come on let's get out of here."
On the way to the car, I checked my phone, which I'd put on silent while in the hospital. Tons of missed calls and texts from my mom and sisters. The texts were variations of the same question: What the hell is going on?
"My sisters and mom are going to kill me. Fuck Susan and her big mouth."
"I take it the word is out?" There was a smile in his words. "Good luck. I have a conference in a few. I'll take you home and call you later."
"Nuh Uh. No way. You're not going anywhere. I'm not facing the firing squad alone. We've been summoned to my stepdad's bar for a cross-examination."
