by J. C. Reed
“Yeah?” I frowned. “And what’s the place you envisioned?”
“One that serves seafood.”
“Seafood?” I let out a brief laugh, surprised by his answer.
“If life gives you crap, then the only cure is crab.”
He laughed and leaned back. “I was kidding.”
“It wasn’t funny.”
“I thought it was.” His lips twitched. “You’re not allergic to seafood, are you?” He leaned closer and draped his arm around my shoulders, not waiting for my answer. “No, you aren’t. See, that’s the beauty of our relationship. I know everything about you thanks to your very detailed info leaflet you sent me.”
I pushed his arm away. “First, we don’t have a relationship, Chase.”
“That’s right. We’re married. There’s a difference.”
“No…yes. Call it whatever you want, it’s over. Not to mention, it was fake,” I said annoyed. “And second, I only sent you my detailed biography because you asked me for one.”
“Thank you for that. It’s helped me understand the complexity of your soul.” He tipped his nose with his finger.
My soul?
His charm was working, and it pissed me off.
“Good for you,” I said, my annoyance rising to new heights. “I still have no idea who you are. I’m not even sure why I’m playing along—” I waved my hand around as I struggled to find the right words “—here when I should be thousands of miles away, thanking my lucky stars that it’s all over.”
“Would it help you if you saw some proof of identification?” Chase asked.
Definitely couldn’t hurt.
My breath caught in my throat. “Is that a joke?”
“I’m dead serious.” Not waiting for my reply, he pulled out his wallet from his jean pocket and tossed it to me. It fell straight into my lap. I stared at the beaten, brown leather, then glanced up at him, unsure what to do.
“Come on,” Chase said, watching me. “Take it before you go and accuse me of stealing someone’s identity.”
I let out a laugh. “As if stealing someone’s identity could top stealing someone’s money. It’s just as bad, but definitely not worse.”
His hand touched mine. I pulled back.
“Laurie, I’m not after your money,” he insisted. His anger was palpable in his tone. “Besides, one quarter of your inheritance is not exactly a lot.” My eyes widened at his statement.
Judging from the car he drove and the place he owned, he wasn’t exactly poor.
“Yeah, I read your file. I know the terms of your inheritance, and what you wanted to agree to.” His finger tapped on the wallet. “Come on. Have a look. We’ll be a step closer to where I want us to be after you do.”
He sounded so forceful I couldn’t help but feel hopeful.
My fingers shook as I grabbed the wallet from my lap. As I opened it, my eyes fell on the countless credit cards and then on his driver’s license.
I pulled it out, swallowing down the lump in my throat.
Chase Wright.
Even his date of birth was correct, and the guy in the picture was definitely Chase, albeit a younger version of him.
Confusion washed over me.
I didn’t know what I had expected. That maybe it would all be fake—just like our marriage. I most certainly didn’t expect that he might be telling the truth.
He moved closer to me, his lips almost touching my ear. “Did you really think I would marry you with a fake name? How exactly would that have worked out?”
“I’m not sure.” I turned my head to him and took a sip of my wine, then another until my glass was empty, but the much-desired numbing effect didn’t kick in.
“I was born in Texas, Mulberry, which you already know.” He stashed the driver’s license back in his wallet when he caught my expression of disbelief. “What? Not everything I told you was a lie.”
“Like your acting?”
“I’m not an actor per se,” he said. “But I did act when I was younger.”
“You did?” I couldn’t hold back a snort.
“Mmm. You think I would go to all the trouble of setting up several fake profiles? I don’t have time for that.”
“As a matter of fact, I think you’d do just that, Chase.” His name sounded so right on my lips, I winced. We were married for real. No doubt about that now. The thought both scared and excited me. “In fact, I think you’d go the extra mile to meet me.”
He thought it over for a moment. “I did go through quite a bit to meet you.”
Like committing arson, trapping us in an elevator, and hurting a lot of people.
It was such a long time ago that it all felt like a bad dream.
That minuscule smidgen of despair intermingled with hope was back again.
I opened my mouth to speak when the car stopped and Chase grabbed my hand again, giving it a little squeeze. “We’re here.”
“Where’s here?”
“The shore,” he said the exact moment the driver opened the door. “There’s nothing better than a bit of sunshine, wine, and—” He grinned. “Say it.”
“Crabs.”
“That’s right. Crabs.” He grimaced. “Unless you get the bad kind. Now that makes one’s life kind of bad.”
I turned my head away from him, my lips twitching.
Would it be so bad if I laughed?
Argh.
He was making it so difficult not to like him.
Biting my lip, I chuckled inwardly as I followed him out, inhaling the distinct smell of salt, water, and seafood.
Chapter 12
The restaurant was situated on top of a hill overlooking the sea. I expected it to be secluded. However, it was overcrowded with people and families. Mexican folklore music was playing in the background, and children were laughing. I turned to Chase questioningly, but he only grinned, as a waiter approached us.
All around us, people were eating, chatting, and having a great time. It was so busy and overcrowded that I was convinced the waiter would tell us they were overbooked, until he led us through a doorway to an open patio. I held my breath, amazed, as we followed him to a table near the railing.
Coming here was a mistake.
The place was beautiful. Too beautiful. Too perfect for something that should have been a day of enlightenment, not romance, happiness, and perfection.
I slid into the seat, unable to pull my eyes away from the stunning scenery. Even though it wasn’t quiet, the place was pure tranquility. It was a place I could imagine myself sitting for hours, drinking coffee and relaxing to the sound of the crashing waves. If only the situation wasn’t so awkward. If only Chase and I were a real couple.
Somewhere a child shrieked, and a thought occurred to me.
“Did you choose a public restaurant so that I wouldn’t make a scene?” I asked. “If so, I can tell you that your fears were unwarranted. I’m not one of those girls who cause tantrums. I have a very good grasp on my emotions.”
“I know that.” He sat opposite from me with an easy smile on his lips. “You’re one of those girls who choose flight over confrontation. Am I right?”
“True.” I nodded as I eyed him warily. “You didn’t answer my question, Chase.”
“No, it’s not the reason we’re here.” He leaned back, watching me in thought. “I’ve been told it’s the best place in town with a stunning view, as you can see.”
“And?” I prompted after a pause.
“And it’s safe and secure.”
“You mean for you,” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
“No, I mean for you, Laurie.” Was it my imagination or was there more to it?
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I want you to feel safe in my presence, considering you ran away.”
I stared at him.
Safe from Chase?
Confusion washed over me until realization hit me.
He thought I had fled because I was scared.
&n
bsp; “That’s not the reason I ran away, Chase,” I said coolly. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“You’re not?” He seemed surprised, as though any other explanation wouldn’t make sense. And then he leaned forward, his eyes taking me in. “I thought you felt scared because you thought I’d hurt you.” I shook my head, meeting his warm glance with a cold stare. “Then why, Laurie?”
“I…” I flicked my tongue over my lips, unsure how to say it.
Was I scared that I’d get hurt? Probably.
But not in a physical sense.
I was scared of having my heart broken more than he had already broken it. Of never being able to pick up the pieces he left behind. Of hoping for something that would never be there—his love, his devotion.
“Because of what you discovered?” he insisted.
“Yes. That’s probably one of the reasons.” I stared at my hands fiddling on the table, and his hand, so close to my fingers, beckoning to me to grab it. “The other one is…”
I thought you were really into me.
I thought what we had was real.
“You really fucking hurt me,” I said instead, speaking out the truth before I could stop it.
The words lingered in the air, heavy, real.
He glanced down at his hands, guilt flashing across his face. And suddenly his whole body tensed. “For what it’s worth, I really like you, Laurie. And…” He leaned forward and grabbed my hand, his eyes on me, begging me to understand a message only he knew. “…if things were different, if I didn’t have to do what I’ve done, I would have asked you out.”
If things were different, if I didn’t have to do what I’ve done…
I laughed, his words echoing in my mind.
I eyed his fingers on mine, caressing my skin, and fought the sudden urge to pull back.
“So let me see if I understand,” I whispered. “You married me for my inheritance.”
“Yes,” he said cautiously. “But I also like you.” He let the words linger in the air. “If things were different, I would still want to date you.”
“Why?” I asked, my voice breathless.
“Simply because. Do you need a reason for it?”
My breath hitched as I regarded him. The wind blew my hair into my face, and I pushed the strand behind my ear. His eyes softened.
“What? Is that really so hard to believe that I might be developing feelings for you?” Chase asked.
There, he had just said it. All of a sudden, my world began to spin.
“I don’t know.” I swallowed. “It’s hard to believe. I’ve been… I don’t think—”
God, what was happening to me?
I couldn’t finish sentences whenever he was around.
“Laurie.” He breathed out an impatient sigh. “You’re beautiful. Why is it hard to believe that I like you?”
Because I’m nothing like you.
“I’m not confident. I’m not…” I struggled for words.
Perfect.
Godlike.
God, I had to stop before it got out of control. There was something about his penetrating stare that threw me off. Or maybe it was his touch—gently and warm, and completely out of place—that my whirling thoughts couldn’t formulate one single sentence. Whatever it was, it had to stop.
Withdrawing my hand from him, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“You don’t have to be confident,” he replied. “I like you for who you are.”
“Why did you marry me?” I asked. My question was meant to be casual. Instead, it came out like an accusation.
There was a long pause.
“Because I had to,” he said at last.
There was something in his voice: hope that I would believe him. Hope that I would forgive him even though his words were the painful beginning of a longer story. I scanned his face and saw the despair etched in his features.
“Is it because of the money?” I asked.
“No.” He shook his head, his frown deepening, and I knew, whatever the answer, whatever explanation he would give me, I wouldn’t like the truth. And he knew it. He knew I knew, judging from the way he couldn’t even look me straight in my eyes, and kept delaying the inevitable.
Everything inside me burned with the knowledge that if he had wanted, he could have disclosed his reasons back at the hotel.
That he didn’t, that he couldn’t do it now, didn’t just bother me.
It confirmed to me that whatever he had to say was going to be difficult—for both of us.
Heck, I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear it.
The entire situation was worse than facing my stepfather.
It was splitting me into two.
“I wish things could be different,” he said and turned his attention to the ocean. I did the same as I let go of my thoughts and him.
Sitting so close to the railing overlooking the shore, the sight was beautiful. The blue water stood in contrast to the sand, my dark feelings and the despair that seemed to rise within me, reminding me that this was only a fleeting moment in our lives.
Everything felt surreal—the sparkling water, the warm sun on our faces, the excited chatter all around us. For a moment, it felt as though it wasn’t my life, but someone else’s.
“It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m—” My words were interrupted by a waitress stopping at our table.
“Quiere algo para beber?” the waitress asked.
I looked into her friendly face, ready to ask whether she could speak English. But Chase replied.
“You can speak Spanish?” I asked after she left.
“I wish I were fluent,” he said. “But I only throw in bits of phrases here and there to impress.”
As if he needed to impress when his body already did the work for him.
“Have you been here before?” I asked warily.
“No.” He leaned forward, his eyes watching me with renewed interest. “What was it that you wanted to say before you were interrupted? You said that it doesn’t matter anymore.”
He had been listening. I didn’t expect that. “I can’t remember.”
It was a lie.
But he couldn’t know the truth.
It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m already in love with you.
Chase was a weakness I couldn’t have in my life. My feelings for him would always make me an easy target.
I might be gullible, but I wasn’t weak. Before I could change the topic, the waitress arrived with several plates. As she spread out the varied delicacies and arranged the plates in what seemed to be a specific order, I stared in surprise at the array of food.
I raised my brows at Chase and he smiled, the skin around his eyes crinkling.
“I took the liberty to order and paid for it before we came,” he clarified. “This place can be quite busy. I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”
“You didn’t have to,” I said and helped myself to a plate.
“It was my pleasure. Can’t afford to disappoint my wife. What are you having?”
His wife.
As if.
His words had me blushing, so I scanned the seafood. There was so much of everything, it looked like someone had prepared an entire dinner table for a dinner party rather than for just the two of us.
Everything looked so delicious I didn’t know where to start.
“No idea. Maybe everything?” I said.
“Try this.” He picked up a shrimp taco and held it up to my mouth. “It’s spicy.”
I laughed. “My stomach won’t tolerate it.”
“The taste is worth the stomach pain.”
I laughed again, realizing he acted as if nothing had happened between us, even though everything had changed. I stared at him, my heart plummeting as I became aware of how intimate the entire situation was—and how close he had come to tricking my mind into thinking that we could go on with our lives, never talking about what happened.
“Fine. But you’ll wish you had tried it,” he
said.
My laugh died on my lips as I watched Chase withdraw his hand and bite into the taco. He took a napkin and wiped off his hands, nodding appreciatively.
“Chase.” I sighed. “Why are you doing this?”
“What? Taking you out for lunch?” he asked. “I’m treating you nicely. It’s the least I can do for you after…” he trailed off, leaving the rest unspoken.
“I meant this.” I motioned to the air between us. “Acting like nothing happened.”
He shrugged. “I’m making a fresh start.”
I let the thought sink in for a moment. Grabbing a fork, I started to pop food into my mouth, barely registering the taste.
“You haven’t even started to explain your motives, and you already expect me to give you a second chance?” I asked casually. “Wake up, Chase. It’s not going to happen. It won’t work out.”
“It won’t work out that I spill my motives, or it won’t work out between us?”
Argh.
What was it with this man and his inability to keep a conversation on track?
“Both, obviously,” I said dryly.
“I was just asking,” he said.
“I thought it was all pretty clear.”
“Not to me.” He moved his chair to sit closer to me. “You mind?”
I did.
Very much.
The last thing I needed from him was to touch me. To fool me. To remind me that things weren’t over—not in my heart anyway.
“Go ahead.” I shrugged, as though his proximity didn’t faze me.
“I didn’t plan this,” he started. “I didn’t plan to like you, Laurie. You see, in my line of work, you have to be hard and unattached.”
“Work?” I asked slowly, my pulse speeding up. “What line of work are we talking about?”
God, my heart was beating real hard. I popped another shrimp into my mouth as I considered his words.
Hard and unattached.
Jude already said that Chase was no actor, so what was he?
Somehow, I couldn’t imagine Chase being anything but an actor. Even a porn star would do. Or maybe he was a criminal who had to stay away from all emotional entanglements.
On a second thought, he probably was a crook, considering…
“Law,” he said casually, interrupting my thoughts.
