by Lynda Chance
“It was no big deal. Mom and Dad and Josh were there. I know you hate going to stuff like that. I haven’t even told Katie.”
In that moment, Zach looked at her as if he realized how much his sister had grown up.
“Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed. I would have loved to have been there.”
“It’s no big deal, I didn’t even want to go to a big four-year college. Josh made me.”
Surprise showed on his features. “Josh made you?”
“Yeah, I was ready to get married at eighteen after I graduated from high school.”
“Shit, Hannah! What were you thinking?”
“Don’t bitch at me! I still think it was pointless. To me, it was three years that I wasn’t with him. And all because he wanted me to have a degree first. I could have easily finished college after the wedding. And I would have.”
Zach had a highly doubtful look on his face. “All that aside, I don’t think you need to be rushing into anything. Wait awhile, let me meet him—”
Hannah cut him off in surprise. “You’re willing to meet him?”
“What do you expect me to do? Ignore this?”
“No. I’m happy you’re willing to meet him. I knew you’d be okay with this eventually, I just didn’t think it would be this quick. But I’m not waiting. I don’t care anything about a big wedding, or a white dress and flowers. All I want is Josh, I’ve waited for what feels like my whole life, and I’m not waiting one second longer. He wants to marry me now, I’m twenty-one and have satisfied everybody with my college degree. Now I get what I want. This weekend.”
Zach studied her. “How do mom and dad feel about all of this?”
“They like Josh, a lot. But they don’t know we’re getting married yet and I’m not going to tell them until it’s over. They can throw me a reception or something later on if it will make mom feel better.”
Zach threw out a smile. “Is there anything I can do to slow this down or make you change your mind?”
For the first time since she had walked into his office, she relaxed back in her chair and smiled at him with warmth. “I love you, Zach, but there’s not a damn thing you can do. I want Josh Turner and nothing and no one can stop me from having him.”
****
Las Vegas was amazing. Amazing. Hannah had never seen anything like it before in her life. Hollywood didn’t do it justice. The lights, the nightlife, everything was bigger than life.
But she really didn’t care about any of it.
They rented a car as soon as they hit the airport and the first thing they did was find a wedding chapel.
Hannah knew her parents were going to kill her but she didn’t care. This wasn’t about her parents. This was about Josh Turner and only Josh Turner.
Oh, my God. She was about to become Hannah Turner. She liked the sound of that!
They stood before a balding, middle-aged man who droned the ceremony in a monotone voice that should have made her angry, but didn’t because she was too excited to care. Josh held her hand through the entire ten-minute ceremony as static, pre-recorded wedding music played over the speakers in the background. The two witnesses were old, and Josh had given them each a cell phone to record the wedding. Surely, one of them would get it right.
They said their ‘I do’s’ without any fanfare but they didn’t need any.
Josh was smiling at her as if his world was complete, and Hannah knew for a fact that hers was.
It was the most romantic moment of her life.
The hotel they had chosen was only four star, but it was fantastic. Josh carried her over the threshold into their room.
“Aren’t you supposed to do this at home?”
“Yeah, I’ll do it there, too. I just like to carry you.”
Hannah smiled up at him as he placed her on the bed and then shut and bolted the door.
He turned around and walked to the end of the bed with indolent grace and came to a stop. Standing completely still, he made no move to touch her; he only watched her from the foot of the bed. Hannah felt the exact same shiver of excitement that she’d felt at fifteen when he’d followed her into the public library and stood staring at her in silence.
It had thrilled her then, and it was thrilling her now.
His eyes turned a darker shade of green and Hannah recognized the expression reflected there. Her heart pounded as he looked from her face, down to her feet, and then back again. His gaze penetrated her, becoming hotter, more intense and her smile slowly faded. He reached out and wrapped his hand around her ankle, his grip tightening until Hannah gasped, butterflies rippling through her stomach.
“What do you want, Mrs. Turner?” His voice was low and deep and it made Hannah ache for his touch.
She answered him as the smoldering flame of his appraisal penetrated her. “You. What … what do you want?”
His eyes fell to the juncture of her thighs and the air around them electrified. “Just you.”
His answer, determined and intense, struck a chord within her and she wanted to give him anything and everything he desired. “You have me.”
He scanned her slowly; his attention riveted on her. His eyes came back to hers and held her gaze for a count of three seconds before responding. “Yeah, I do, don’t I?” His arrogant words, although a question, were inflexible, and a hot sexual sizzle filled the air. As fast as a snake striking, he reached out and grabbed her other ankle and pulled her to the end of the bed, her butt landing on the edge.
The breath hitched in her lungs and her entire being was filled with hot, sensual need as he took her sandals from her feet and tossed them aside.
His lazy movements disappeared; his hands landed on her hips and within seconds, he’d shoved her skirt up and pulled her panties off. Her pulse pounded an erratic rhythm as he separated her legs and pushed them up, bending her knees until her feet lay flat on the bed. She was totally open to him, and the oxygen caught in her throat.
Seizing her at her knees, he looked down, his eyes riveted to the naked place between her thighs. His nostrils flared and flecks of red tinged his cheekbones. Her heart fluttered wildly in her chest. A low vibration came from his throat. “I’m not going to lie to you Hannah; I like what I see.”
He’d seen her this way a hundred times before, and her physical response to him was as powerful as it had always been and she felt a rush of damp heat. “I’m … I’m glad?” Her voice rose in question while the blood hammered in her ears as she waited for his next move.
His restraining grasp tightened and as he forced her legs apart another inch, Hannah was captivated by his sensual threat.
“That’s real good, baby,” his eyes lifted and locked with hers. “Because it’s mine forever.” As he spoke, one hand slid down and he cupped her femininity with irrefutable strength.
He released her only for enough time to tear at his zipper, pulling his boots off and pushing his jeans and underwear away.
His hand came back to her immediately. She gasped at the lightning quick move, and when he slid his long, middle finger inside her, her breath caught as irresistible pleasure raced through her system.
His gaze held hers and it was intent, compelling. That single, thick finger swirled inside of her, and Hannah let out a tiny moan. His erection pulsed, thick and hard between them. Stepping as close as he could get to the bed, his eyes never wavered from hers as he explored her body. Her breathing accelerated. “You like that, Hannah baby?” his voice dropped.
Hannah lifted her hips. “Yeah.”
“That’s damn good, sweetheart, because it’s mine; you’ll never get away from me.”
“I’ll never want to get away from you,” she panted harshly, her internal muscles squeezing around his finger, begging him for more. Her hand lifted between them, and she just managed to reach the head of his erection. Her fingers slid over him, a drop of pre-cum feeling like silk as she spread it over him and caressed him with it. Long since on the pill, Hannah loved everything about
the wet silk that came from his body.
He hissed in a breath and the tic in his cheek became erratic as they caressed each other. His eyes were brilliant and green as they held hers. “I love you, you know that?”
Tenderness gripped her. “Yeah, I love you, too.”
His nostrils flared and his teeth clenched and Hannah knew he was struggling to control his hunger. She raised her hips again, trying to get closer and he bit his bottom lip until it turned white. His words rattled from his throat, “We need to get something straight in this marriage, right from the start.”
His finger pushed harder and Hannah closed her eyes as delirious pleasure consumed her. She barely managed to speak, knowing she’d agree to anything. “Okay.”
His grip left her knee and slid down to take her hand away from his body. He captured her wrist and lifted it over her head, imprisoning her to the bed as he loomed over her, his finger still buried inside of her. His head fell to the side of hers, his mouth at her ear. “You’re mine. You belong to me, heart, body, and soul.”
Hannah panted harder. “Yes.”
“No one will ever touch you, not now and not in the future.”
She swallowed and mewled in the back of her throat, dying to feel him inside of her.
“Say it, baby.” His voice was hard.
“Just you,” she rasped, a warm, sweet ache building and threatening to spill over.
“Say it baby, repeat it.”
“No one—” Hannah’s brain was gone, her thoughts scattered in all directions.
“No one will ever touch me. Say it.”
“No one will ever t-touch me.” Her voice broke as a rush of wet heat enveloped her.
His hand left her body and he brought the head of his penis to her wet opening and hung over her, ready to penetrate her. “That’s good, sweetheart.” He pushed in an inch, to the point where he was stretching her and then he stilled. He lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist and then found her other hand and pulled it above her head, holding her in a clasp she couldn’t get away from, a clasp she had no desire to get away from. “Now say, I belong to Josh Turner.”
A river of molten heat hit Hannah and she swallowed and tried to concentrate. “I belong to Josh Turner.”
“That’s right, princess.” He strained above her, not giving her anymore and Hannah grew frantic to feel all of him.
He held her hands with one strong hand and brought the other to her chin and lifted it gently but firmly. Her eyes flew open and she found him staring down at her, the scars on his face pronounced with the lines of arousal tightening his skin. They pressed together, staring at each other, pulling oxygen in and out of their lungs. “You want to be my wife?”
Hannah felt her eyes fill with tears of joy and she began nodding her head frantically.
His features softened. “Then say it,” he whispered.
Her eyes clung to his. “I want to be your wife.”
Pure satisfaction crossed his face as his eyes narrowed on hers. Hannah was pierced with a thousand points of light as he tightened his grip and slammed into her, joining their lives and making them one.
Chapter Eighteen
Josh breathed a sigh of relief as he walked inside the Redwood Falls bank. He was back on duty now, and had left his wife at home with his aunt and uncle, temporarily, until they could get their own place. The visit had gone well and he was still vibrating from the hum of having Hannah as his wife. The fact that his aunt and uncle were happy about the marriage was the icing on the cake. Diana already loved Hannah; finding out they were married had been a surprise, but a pleasant one. Hannah’s parents were fine with the marriage, but they weren’t happy they hadn’t been included. They’d have to get over it. Josh was disappointed to learn Katie was on an extended vacation with a friend from work. There would be no problems in that corner, he knew. Katie might worry about Zachary McIntyre’s reaction to the news, but she herself would be pleased for them.
As Josh stood in line he glanced around the building. It was a small bank and the only one in Redwood Falls. It had received a facelift since the last time he’d been in here. His money was direct deposited and he used a debit card for his transactions, so he rarely had to actually visit the bank. His pay as a deputy sheriff was adequate, and combined with the fact that his need for money was small, Josh’s account balance was steadily growing.
He had come in today to pick up the paperwork to add Hannah to his accounts. He was waiting his turn behind a farmer who he vaguely recognized, when Mr. Whitfield, the president of the bank, came up to him and offered his hand.
“How’ve you been, Josh?” the man was probably in his mid-sixties and had a jovial voice.
Josh shook his hand. “Fine, sir. And you?”
“Very well, son. The town thanks you for your service. Everyone is very proud of you and we all feel safe with you wearing the badge.”
“Thank you and you’re very welcome.”
“If you have a minute, I’d like to speak to you in private.”
Josh felt a mild curiosity slide through him from the request. “Sure, now is good, I just need to get my wife added to my account.” He couldn’t control the sound of pride in his voice when he elaborated, “I married Hannah McIntyre a few days ago.”
“Hannah McIntyre?” Josh could tell the banker was surprised. “No, I didn’t know. She’s a sweet little thing.”
“Yes sir, thank you.”
The older man clasped him on the shoulder. “I can get that paperwork going for you. Let’s go in my office and talk.”
Josh turned and followed the other man into a large office with a mahogany door that the banker closed behind them. He sank down in one of the two leather chairs in front of the man’s desk and waited while Mr. Whitfield settled himself down and took a few strokes on his computer keyboard.
There was silence for a few moments until the man cleared his throat and began talking in a deep voice. “Son, like I said before, we’re all proud of you in this town. You took yourself from your humble, trying beginnings, and pulled yourself up by your bootstraps. I’ve got something to show you here, but first let me say that confidentiality precludes what I can and can’t tell you. Let me just show you first, and then I’ll tell you a little story.”
Josh was becoming increasingly puzzled by the banker’s words and whatever it was on the screen the man was looking at. His stomach muscles tightened in anticipation of receiving a hit, although the man’s tone of voice didn’t indicate the need for self-protection.
The printer began a buzzing noise and Josh waited until a piece of paper was placed in front of him. He scanned it quickly and his brow creased in confusion. It initially looked like a statement of an account belonging to his father, an account that had over three hundred thousand dollars in it.
Shock made Josh’s voice harsh. “What does this mean?”
“This is yours, son,” the banker said, indicating the account with a wave of his hand. “Your father died without a will, but when he set this account up years ago, he set it up with you as not only a cosigner, but a co-owner.” As Josh tried to wrap his mind around what was happening, Mr. Whitfield continued, “You might even remember coming in here to sign papers. If my memory serves correctly, you were only eleven or twelve at the time. Of course, there wasn’t much money in it back then. But, obviously, things are different now. So it’s nice that this account doesn’t have to go through the courts, or probate. It’s legally yours and has been since your father passed away. Since you haven’t come in here for some time, and the account has been inactive, it occurred to me that you probably didn’t know about it.”
Thunderstruck, Josh sat in stunned silence a moment, knowing that wherever the money came from, it was no doubt tainted in some way. Finally, he was able to get his vocal chords to work. “Where’d it come from?”
Mr. Whitfield leaned back in his desk and clasped his hands behind his head. “Well, now, that’s where my tale comes in. You need t
o be armed with knowledge so you can make appropriate decisions. I can tell you where this kind of money might have come from. But, mind you understand, I can’t give out confidential personal information, so you might have to extrapolate a bit, and you didn’t find this out from me.” he answered.
“Go on,” Josh urged.
“You may or may not know some of what I’m going to tell you. Bear with me, please. When your father—left town with—” The older man’s words came to a crashing halt when he must have realized how the situation had taken a new twist with Josh’s recent marriage to Hannah McIntyre.
Josh lifted his hand to his forehead and rubbed at the tension between his brows. “Yeah, I know who he ran off with. Please, just go on.”
“Your father wanted money when he left town with … her.” The banker’s words stopped again.
Josh grunted in frustration at the delay. “And? What’d he do? Rob your bank?” The tone in his voice was satirical, he was only half joking.
Mr. Whitfield took the question seriously. “No, not that.” He paused, drew a deep breath and continued, “Well, suppose there were two brothers. Two brothers who had inherited equal amounts of land and then farmed it together as one entity. Suppose one of those brothers wanted to sell out, to raise cash … maybe to leave town. Well, the other brother might not want that to happen. The second brother might have taken out a mortgage for the land in question. The first brother received the money, the second brother got the land, although it would be heavily mortgaged.”
Stunned, understanding immediately what had transpired, and pissed at his father once again, thinking that the motherfucker was now haunting him from his grave, Josh ran his hand through his short hair. “Jesus Christ.”
Both men stared at each other while Josh took in the ramifications of what he had just found out. He cleared his throat and shook his head, trying to understand. “And the only reason there’s any money left is because the first brother died before he could spend it.”
“Seems like that could be the case, yes.”
“I’m not going to delude myself with a fairytale about how my father wanted me to have the money,” Josh said harshly.
