A Mile High Romance

by Cassidy Coal

  Sarah couldn't hold back her laugh as Tyler stared at the woman, too stunned to respond.

  No way was the woman taking her picture. Sarah was still wearing last night's make-up and her hair was pulled into a messy bun because she hadn't wanted to deal with it this morning. At least Tyler had still had an old sundress of hers in his closet so she wasn't in her red gown from the night before, but she was definitely not up for random strangers taking her photo.

  The owner of the place ran over and shooed the woman away with an apologetic glance in their direction.

  "Maybe we should get out of here." Tyler threw a fifty on the table and led her towards the door. They waved to the woman as they left and then dashed back to Tyler's building before anyone else could recognize them.

  When they were safely ensconced back in his penthouse apartment, Sarah threw herself on the couch and Tyler laid down with his head in her lap. "Now this," he said, "is what life is all about."

  Sarah played with his jet black hair as she smiled down into his emerald green eyes. All she wanted was to kiss him and forget the rest of the world, but she couldn't. "The e-mails, Tyler. What did they say?"

  He closed his eyes as if pained.

  "Tyler?"

  He didn't open his eyes as he answered. "The first was from my father asking me what the hell I was thinking and reminding me that we're in the midst of delicate merger negotiations and the last thing he needs right now is to deal with news of his son's extracurricular activities overshadowing that."

  "Ouch." She knew his parents were cold, but that seemed a bit more than was really necessary. "And the others?"

  Tyler sat up, his body touching hers as he stared at the painting on the opposite wall. It was a giant framed oil painting of a pink rose. She'd always loved it. How an artist could take something so simple and make it a work of art just amazed her.

  "The second e-mail was from my mother."

  "And?"

  He laughed—a soft, bitter sound. "She asked me how I could embarrass her like that and said she was going to be the laughing stock of all her friends and suggested that if I had to marry someone so low class that at least I could've done so quietly so no one actually knew what a fool I was."

  Sarah stared at him. "Seriously?"

  He nodded. "Yep. That's my dear mother at her best."

  Sarah's gut clenched. She'd known she didn't belong in Tyler's world, but she'd figured that if he loved her it wouldn't matter. Now she wasn't so sure. If his family didn't accept her, where did that leave them?

  Tyler turned to her; his expression serious. He held her eyes. "They don't matter, Sarah. You have brought more love and light and joy to my life in the last year than they ever did with all their money and connections. So if I have to choose family versus you? I choose you. Every. Single. Time."

  Sarah swallowed heavily. Because he'd reminded her that he was going to meet her family tonight. And…

  What if her family didn't accept him? Or he didn't like them? What would she do then? Because, unlike him, she couldn't just walk away from her family like that.

  She shook the thought away. Time enough to deal with that if and when it happened. "Were there any other e-mails?" she asked.

  He glanced away, not answering.

  "Tyler?"

  He let out a deep sigh. "Yeah. My dad's lawyer contacted me about the pre-nup."

  "Pre-nup?"

  He looked at her and away again. "Yeah. We can't get married without it."

  Sarah tensed. "Why? Because, even though you proposed to me out of the blue, I must be a money-grubbing whore that's just going to take you for all you have?"

  Tyler winced but he didn't look at her. "It wouldn't matter who I married, Sarah, or how the proposal came about. Most of my money is tied up in family-run businesses. I can't afford to have a divorce destroy that. It wouldn't be fair."

  He did look at her then, his beautiful green eyes pleading with her to understand.

  Sarah stood and paced the room, her hands clenching and unclenching as she thought about it. Why marry someone with the expectation that it would fail?

  If it did fail she wouldn't want a penny, she'd just want out.

  She turned to him. "Tell your lawyer I don't want your money. You can keep it all. I will not spend the rest of my life depending on some man to write me a monthly check for my rent."

  Tyler slumped further into the couch, his eyes fixed on her face as he worried at his lip with his teeth. "It isn't that simple, Sarah."

  "What isn’t?"

  "There has to be a reasonable amount given to you or they can void the agreement."

  She laughed in frustration. "Seriously? I don't want it." When he just watched her, she continued, "Fine. Pick an amount. Whatever."

  Tyler grimaced. "The fourth e-mail was a list of lawyers that can represent you in the negotiations."

  Sarah stared at him. Her picture-perfect fiancé. Gorgeous, intelligent, supportive, successful, rich. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, but this crap?

  No.

  "We don't have to get married you know." She chewed on her nail as she studied him.

  Tyler sat forward, his eyes wide with shock. "What?"

  "We don't have to get married. We can just get back together and spend as much time together as we can manage and make amazing, spectacular love, and forget the rest. I love you. You love me. That's good enough."

  He rushed forward and grabbed her hands. "No. Sarah Baxter I want you to be my wife. I want to wake up every morning with you by my side. I want that house in the suburbs with 2.2 kids and a golden retriever. I want it all. And I am not going to let my parents or their lawyers or anyone else keep us from finding that happiness. I want to marry you. Period. No arguments. No compromises."

  How could she say no with him standing so close and looking so determined?

  "Okay. But for now can we just make amazing, spectacular love?" She ran a finger down the front of his chest, her eyes holding his.

  "Absolutely."

  He pulled her close and their lips met and, just like the first time and every time since, fire raced through her veins. No man had ever made her feel the way Tyler did. She lost herself in him, in the moment, in the feel of flesh against flesh.

  This. This was all that mattered.

  Later, much later, Sarah stretched languidly as she watched Tyler sleep. He looked so vulnerable when he slept—like a little boy who'd stayed up too late and finally collapsed in the corner unable to stay awake a moment longer.

  Sarah's phone rang and she cussed as Tyler stirred in his sleep. Damn it. Who was calling now?

  But when she turned to grab the phone and saw that it was already five-thirty, she blessed the caller for calling in time for them to still make it to her mom's for dinner at six-thirty.

  "Tyler. Get up." She shoved him as she bounded out of bed and answered the call. "Jane. Hey, what's up?" She raced to the front room to retrieve her clothes.

  "Oh, nothing. Just figured you might want a little reminder call to get to your mom's on time."

  Sarah laughed, breathless. "Thanks, but couldn't you've called about half an hour ago?"

  She could almost hear Jane shrug on the other end of the phone. "Yeah, but that wouldn't've been any fun. See you there?"

  "Yeah, see you there."

  Sarah hung up and ran back into the bedroom. Tyler was sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing at his eyes. His hair was a tousled mess.

  She sighed as she stared at his beautiful naked body. If this were any other day…

  She'd call her mom and say they weren't coming.

  But they had to go. They had to get this out of the way now.

  "Get dressed," she ordered as she threw on her own clothes.

  "What should I wear?" Tyler opened the door to his walk-in closet to reveal rows of custom-made suits along one wall and khaki pants on another.

  "Do you own even one pair of jeans?" She peeked around his shoulder as she p
ut on her shoe.

  He held up a pair of designer jeans that looked like they'd never been worn before.

  Sarah shook her head. "No. Those, no. Um. A pair of khakis then. Your oldest ones?"

  Tyler quirked an eyebrow at her.

  "Trust me, Tyler. You want to be as casual as you can get."

  He laughed. "Should I wear sweats?"

  She shook her head slightly as she considered it. "No…I think that…No."

  "I was joking, Sarah."

  She met his eyes. "I wasn't. But your sweats are actually too nice to pull it off. So khakis and a t-shirt. Do you have anything that's worn or scuffed in any way?"

  He frowned at her.

  "I'm serious, Tyler."

  "I'm meeting your family. I want to make a good impression."

  "I know. And I'm trying to help you do that."

  "By telling me to wear old and scuffed clothes?" He frowned at her, his eyebrows pulling down in the most adorable way.

  She sighed. He didn't get it. Why should he?

  "Tyler. We don't have time for this. Put it this way. Everything you wear screams money. And where we're going? That isn't going to help. So comfy, casual clothes if you can. Please. I have to go tell my mom we might be a few minutes late."

  Sarah chewed on her thumbnail as she directed Tyler to pull into the Oak Gables Trailer Park. It was surrounded by a ten-foot privacy fence, so you really couldn't see what it was until you pulled in.

  Trailers lined each side of the paved road, each one with a little yard in front. Most had front porches, too. These were homes not temporary shelters.

  But it was still what it was—a trailer park.

  Tyler didn't say anything as they drove forward but she could tell he was surprised.

  Sarah suddenly regretted hiding so much of her past from him. It wasn't that she was ashamed of who she was or where she came from. It was just that she'd seen people's reactions when she said she grew up in a trailer park—seen them step back slightly and try not to sneer, reassessing everything they'd thought about her up to that point.

  And why? Just because her home was cheaper than theirs? As if living in an apartment would've been better? At least here they'd had a yard to play in and a pool down the road and a front porch to sit on at night.

  So she'd kept this from Tyler, because she hadn't wanted to see that kind of judgement on the face of the man she loved.

  She wondered what he saw as they drove towards her mom's trailer.

  She saw people trying hard to have a good life. The lawns were well-tended, the people friendly. Sure, they might work at mining and construction and jobs like that, but they took pride in owning their own homes and did the best they could with the money they had.

  And it was a community. If someone needed help, all they had to do was ask and everyone would help as best they could.

  But would Tyler see that? Or would he just see a trailer park and all the stupid, ridiculous stereotypes that went with it? Would he see Bob wiping grease off on his shirt as he rolled out from under his truck and turn his nose up? Or watch the kids in their underwear playing in a sprinkler and assume it was because the parents were too poor for bathing suits or too white trash to cover them properly?

  These were her people and she didn't want to judge them, but she did, trying to see them through Tyler's eyes.

  "There's my sister and her husband's trailer." Sarah pointed as they drove by. It was a double-wide, painted tan and dark brown. Her brother-in-law had built the screened-in patio last summer. His old pick-up sat in the driveway, a little rusty here or there, but it still ran like a champ.

  "Your sister and her husband live here, too." Tyler kept his voice carefully neutral.

  Sarah nodded, chewing on her thumbnail once more. "Um-hm. My brothers do, too, but their places are on the other end of the park. I was the only one who moved away. Until I quit my job and moved back in with my mom that is. There. It's the white one with the green trim at the end of the lane."

  For the first time, Sarah noted how the old swing in the front yard was falling apart, the cover tattered at the edges, the paint flaking away. It squeaked, too, but no one was sitting on it at the moment.

  An old rusted swamp cooler leaned against the wall behind it. It had been there for years; she'd never given it a second thought until now.

  Tyler was quiet as he pulled his limited-edition BMW to a stop.

  Sarah's brothers watched them from where they sat on the front steps drinking cans of Budweiser. Their faces were closed off, almost hostile—so different from their normal, joking, laughing selves. It reminded her of when she was fifteen and Billy had come over to pick her up for their first date. Her brothers had sat outside and looked just as disapproving then, too.

  She felt a small surge of love for them, quickly followed by the annoyance of a woman old enough to make her own damned choices but still treated like a child by her family.

  Sometimes she hated being the youngest.

  "Don't worry, they don't bite." Sarah gave Tyler a quick kiss on the cheek and got out of the car. "Hey! Where's my hug?" she asked as she walked towards her brothers.

  Chris cracked a smile and stood to hug her, his considerable bulk too much for her to actually fit her arms around. "This the one, huh?" he asked, his eyes still fixed on the car. "Shoulda known you'd go for some fancy pants froo froo boy instead of a real man."

  Sarah glared at him until he looked away with a blush. "Be nice, Chris. He's…he's a good guy, he treats me well, he respects me. But he'll probably fuck up a few things tonight, okay? So take it easy on him."

  Chris nodded grudgingly.

  She turned to hug Paul. He picked her up and spun her around as if she weighed nothing.

  "Congratulations," he said as he finally set her down. Sarah staggered a bit, trying to get rid of the dizziness.

  Paul stepped past Sarah and extended his large hand towards Tyler. "Tyler? Paul. Pleased to meet ya."

  "Likewise." Tyler shook Paul's hand. He almost managed to keep the pained expression from his face as Paul squeezed his slender hand in his big, beefy one.

  "Knock it off." Sarah slapped Paul's arm.

  He let go of Tyler's hand and stepped back, laughing. "Just had to test him a bit. Make sure he's good enough for my little sis."

  "Well, he is. So back off."

  Tyler waved her down. "It's okay. I understand. If I had a little sister who'd just agreed to marry a man I'd never met, I'd want to see what he was made of, too." He flexed his fingers and grinned ruefully at Paul.

  Chris extended a hand towards Tyler and Tyler met his eyes with a resigned grin as he took it. Chris squeezed hard, too, and Tyler winced, but he took it. Chris let him go and stepped away with an approving nod. "So far so good, sis. We'll see how he does with Mom."

  Sarah glanced up the stairs to the screen door, her stomach clenched in fear. That was the big question, wasn't it? How was he going to do with her mother?

  She sent a silent prayer to any saints or gods willing to listen and then took Tyler's uninjured hand in hers. "Are you ready for this?"

  He shrugged. "No, but we have to do it at some point, right?"

  Sarah's mom was in the kitchen, seated at the table with Jane, Hannah, and Mary. The kids were parked in the front room watching some cartoon, so engrossed they didn't even glance up to see that Sarah was there.

  Sarah's mom stood to greet them with the smile she reserved for guests she didn't particularly like; her lips curved upward to reveal straight white teeth but her eyes were cold and flat.

  Sarah studied her mom for the first time in a long time. Once, her mom had been as curvy as Sarah was now, but time had added inches to her waist until she was now very busty, but more straight than svelte. Her hair was mostly gray and tied back from her round face. She still had a beautiful smile, though, and more than one man gave her an admiring glance when she was out and about.

  She stared Tyler up and down, lips pursed in disapproval.
"So this is him?"

  "This is him." Sarah stepped forward and hugged her mom, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Mom, I'd like you to meet Tyler Corrigan, my fiancé. Tyler, this is my mom, Susan Baxter."

  Tyler stepped forward with a full smile that revealed his perfect teeth and the gorgeous dimple in his chin. "Ms. Baxter. I can see where your daughter gets her good looks from. Here. I hope you like wine." He held out a bottle of wine he'd grabbed from his kitchen on the way out the door.

  It was probably worth a fortune and completely wasted on her mother (as it would've been on Sarah), but Sarah hoped her mother would take it. And maybe smile a real smile.

  Her mom's lips twitched upward a bit and her gaze thawed just a touch. "Thank you, Tyler. That was very kind of you. Now, where's the ring? Let us see."

  Sarah and Tyler exchanged a look. "Um, well…"

  Tyler bit his lip and scratched at his head. "You mind if we sit? And then I'll tell you the whole story."

  Her mother shrugged and Tyler sat down, taking Sarah's hand in his own. Sarah's mom handed them each a can of beer and then sat back down to listen. To Tyler's credit, he popped the can of beer open without hesitation and took a sip.

  Sarah had never seen him drink a beer before. He was a scotch and wine sort of man.

  Tyler blushed a bit as he started to talk, but he kept his eyes focused on Sarah's face and eventually lost himself in telling their story.

  It was very different from how Sarah would've told it. In Tyler's version he'd seen and fallen in love with her on the first day she walked into Corrigan, Inc. more than two years ago, but Sarah Baxter had wanted nothing to do with his rich, entitled ass.

  And she hadn't hesitated to let him know in every way possible. He'd despaired of ever breaking through that reserve until fate intervened and they found themselves alone for hours on a flight to Paris and he'd finally had his chance to woo her.

  Sarah's mom snorted at that and Sarah tore her eyes away from Tyler's face to see her mom's too-knowing look. "It was a legitimate work trip, mom. There really was a fraud that needed investigating."