Blissed (Misfit Brides #1)

by Jamie Farrell

  The past few weeks, he’d come to think of Natalie as a friend. When she let her guard down, she was funny. Nice. Frustrating in that wonderful way women could be when a guy wanted to touch them but couldn’t.

  Tonight, he could stick around. Have dinner with his friend and her son.

  Accidentally cop a feel, maybe. If his hand happened to brush Nat’s ass when he reached around her for a slice of pizza, he’d apologize. Pretend he hadn’t enjoyed it. Try to do it again.

  Give some thought to that idea Kimmie had sparked. Give some more thought to the kind of unique comfort he’d be able to offer Nat when Arthur finally told her what he’d confessed to CJ today.

  Maybe not help her make sense of it, but there would definitely be more feel-copping in the course of his comforting.

  The door opened, and his plans stepped in a pile of goat shit.

  “Mom, look! Me and CJ went fishing with Grandpa, and we brought pizza for dinner. And I’m gonna do the dishes and wash my face and be a big boy and everything.”

  Natalie’s cheek twitched—effort of holding something in, if he knew anything about upset women—then she squeezed Noah’s shoulder. “You want to wear your dinosaur cape to dinner? It’s on your bed.”

  Her voice was froggy, but Noah didn’t notice. He jumped and pumped a fist in the air. “Yeah!”

  Natalie looked past CJ, swept a gaze up and down the street, then stepped out onto the porch. She gestured limply toward the pizza. “How much do I owe you?”

  His heart turned into a glacier. “Nothing.”

  She scrubbed her hands over her cheeks. Her eyes wrinkled up, but she blew out a slow breath and blinked twice before looking up at him with bloodshot eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not a charity case.”

  “Nat?” Something was wrong. And acknowledging that there was something wrong with his friendship with her made him acknowledge that this was more than friendship.

  Her humorless laugh sent an icicle through his heart. “I’ll write you a check for the babysitting.”

  “Are you—” He swallowed, because this conversation had I’m breaking up with you written all over it.

  They weren’t actually dating, and she was breaking up with him. “What the hell, Natalie?”

  She met his gaze evenly. “What the hell is my life. And I need you to stay out of it.”

  “Why?”

  “Marilyn threatened to ruin me.”

  “Tell her to piss off.”

  “She threatened to start a rumor that I helped you cheat in the Games.”

  Her dinner splatted onto the porch about like his world just had.

  Fucking Games.

  It was always the fucking Games.

  CJ shook his head. “Enough. I’m done.” He reached for his phone.

  Natalie stopped him with a soft hand on his arm.

  Soft.

  Not a feeling he normally associated with her, but there it was. Softness. In her touch, in her face, in her voice. “You have to play.” Her voice wobbled. She took a hiccupy breath, but she held herself together. “I quit the committee. I gave her all my notes. I’m done. But I wanted—I can’t—they’re my mom’s last event.”

  She was the least helpless woman he’d ever met. A titanium brick wall reinforced with lead couldn’t stop her if she decided to go through it. But tonight, she looked broken.

  “Your mom’s gone,” he said.

  Stress accentuated the tight lines in the corners of her mouth. “Yes. She is. But as long as I’m not, I’ll honor her memory by doing the right thing.”

  “You’re not doing this for her,” he growled. “You’re doing it for yourself.”

  He’d anticipated the flare of irritation in her dark eyes, but when she followed it by schooling her expression in blankness, his gut twisted.

  “And what are you doing for yourself?” she said.

  Some menacing calm in her voice would’ve been nice. Instead, it was just as flat and empty as the fight in her eyes.

  “You’re leaving,” she said. “You have eleven sisters and a brother who adore you, but you won’t trust any of them enough to let them in. You’re so fixated on being wrong once, you can’t conceive of taking a chance on something that might be right. So who’s wrong, CJ?” Her voice cracked. “Me, for wanting to honor my mother and not make my father endure any more embarrassment on my behalf, or you, hiding from your life because you’re not man enough to take another chance?”

  He wasn’t hiding from anything. He was standing here, wanting to eat a pizza with the woman she was ten minutes ago. At least, he should’ve been. Red haze crept into his vision. A roiling sensation in his gut had him clamping down on the trembles starting in his core.

  She hadn’t just hit a nerve. She’d hit his worst nerve.

  “You need to leave,” she said.

  Little footsteps echoed inside the house, and grief flooded his veins.

  The door flung open. “Mom! Mom! Look, I’m super-dino-man!”

  CJ stepped back.

  He didn’t belong here.

  He never had. He’d just been pretending for a while. A different kind of adventure, that’s all it was. He thrust his hands through his hair, then squatted when Noah barreled at him. “I’ve gotta go, little dude. You take care, okay?”

  Noah flexed his puny little bicep. “I’m the man of the house. I can take care of everything.”

  Life sucked eggs sometimes. “Counting on you, sport.”

  “See you tomorrow, CJ!”

  No, he wouldn’t. But that was a problem Natalie would have to deal with.

  It was time for CJ to move on.

  DAD GOT HOME around nine. Calling him hadn’t been easy, but it was the only option Natalie had left. Mrs. Tanner was still recovering and wouldn’t reopen her day care until after Knot Fest, if she reopened at all. Natalie didn’t want to waste time and effort and emotions finding Noah another sitter. She wanted him with family.

  Family was all she had left to count on.

  “You look tired,” Dad said.

  Not tired. Stretched so far she’d snapped.

  They were in the living room on opposite ends of the molded leather couch. When she called, Dad hadn’t asked much, and Natalie hadn’t offered much. Just that she needed help. Now, he was eyeing her as if he was sizing up her mental state, but she didn’t have the energy for anything beyond the basics. She held up her hands in surrender. “I’ve made a mess of everything.”

  He shook his head. “I was wrong, Nat. You can handle anything life throws at you, and Noah’s a lucky little guy to have you. You’ve done real good here.”

  Her eyes stung. She didn’t know if she’d fooled him or if he was saying it to make them both feel better, but the conviction behind his words wrapped around her like a warm, safe blanket on a cold night. “I’ve had help.” She still did. She was still living in Dad’s house, working at Dad’s shop, now calling Dad to watch Noah.

  “Nobody can do it all by themselves. But what you have done is amazing. Your mother would be so proud of you. So proud.”

  She swallowed a sob. She wasn’t amazing. She was a fake. A big, posing phony who still had to call good ol’ Dad to fix her problems. “It’s not enough.” She curled her legs beneath her and pressed her palms into her eyes. “God, I’m tired.” Tired of work. Tired of the festival. Tired of her life.

  She wanted to disappear for a couple weeks at a spa. She’d even raid Noah’s college fund and take herself skydiving if a certain someone she’d just kicked out of her house would go with her.

  Just so she could pretend for another couple of days. “I’m so tired of being a grown-up.”

  “Got a real good offer on the shop from someone who wants to keep it as a boutique,” Dad said. “Suppose you probably heard about that though.”

  Natalie was going numb. Numb was good. She was tired of feeling. “You should take it.”

  “Don’t have to decide today. Got a week or so.”

  Sh
e took a deep breath. “Waiting won’t change who I am or who I’ve been. Pepper’s a great choice for a new owner. She’s smart, she knows the wedding business, and if anyone has the personality and background necessary to work on The Aisle without a husband, it’s her. Not me.” Besides, with all the single sons on The Aisle, Pepper wouldn’t be lacking in the husband department for long.

  Dad didn’t say anything.

  Natalie huddled closer into herself. “And the truth is, I’d rather be Noah’s mom than have a million boutiques. I can’t ever repay you for all the help you and Mom have given Noah and me, but I can make sure I’m there for him the way you’ve been there for me.”

  “Been thinking a lot lately about how your mom and I had each other. How much of a difference that made for you girls.”

  Natalie nodded. Her parents had worked hard—the shop wouldn’t be what it was today if they hadn’t—but Dad had always gotten Natalie and Lindsey to dance lessons and softball practices while Mom ran the shop and did other Aisle business. By herself, Natalie couldn’t do the same for Noah.

  “If you had the right partner, you could do it too,” Dad said.

  Nope. Not all the way numb yet. Because that one hurt.

  She blinked her stinging eyes back into submission. “I’m not getting remarried, Dad.”

  “Mistakes are only mistakes if you don’t learn from them.”

  “It’s not a mistake to not marry a guy who doesn’t love you.” That, she’d learned. Much as the thought threatened to turn her stomach inside out, CJ didn’t love her. She didn’t know if she loved him. He made her laugh, he frustrated her, and he twisted her heart so hard it had wrinkles, but that couldn’t be love.

  As if it mattered. Because if it was love, she’d killed it efficiently tonight.

  CJ was right. Mom was gone. And Natalie had kicked him out so she didn’t put a stain on her mother’s memory.

  But who else would care if Marilyn Elias spread those rumors?

  Who besides Natalie and Lindsey and Dad? They all knew better.

  Natalie wished Marilyn an eternity in boxed-cake-mix and divorce-support-group hell.

  Dad heaved a Dad-sigh. “You take another look when Knot Fest is over. This isn’t the time to make big decisions. I’ll tell Pepper we’re not ready.”

  “We’re ready.” She couldn’t feel her heart anymore.

  Thank God.

  “Honey—”

  Nat held up a hand. “Dad, I can’t do this another year. Pepper can turn Bliss Bridal back into what it’s supposed to be. Everything it’s supposed to be, eventually with the husband and all. I can’t. Even without Knot Fest and all the other stuff, I can’t. You should sell it to her. Mom”—Natalie’s voice cracked, and she dug deep to embrace the numbness again—“Mom would like her. You can’t take the chance that the next person who makes an offer won’t have the experience or the personality to make it work. I’d rather Pepper have it now, before I break it.”

  Or before Marilyn broke Dad, and convinced him to let her expand the bakery in the boutique’s space.

  “Natalie—”

  “We’ve always known, Dad. We’ve always known I couldn’t do it forever. Let me out with dignity. Please.” She wouldn’t cry. If she cried, if she bent the smallest amount, he’d know she didn’t want to sell any more than he did, but the timing didn’t change the facts.

  Natalie didn’t belong on the The Aisle.

  She belonged in a dress shop. Her own dress shop, where she could dabble with modifying and designing gowns again, where she could hire the best bridal consultants and managers, where she could sign exclusive contracts with highly sought designers and popular wedding planners. But that dress shop couldn’t be in Bliss. Not as long as Marilyn Elias ruled here. Nat had successfully stood up to the wicked old bat a time or two. But what kind of life would she give Noah if she had to fight Marilyn every day?

  Dad was studying her again. “If you’re sure you want out.”

  “I’m sure.”

  He shifted deeper into the couch, then fiddled with the remote. “While we’re talking about difficult topics, I have something else I need to tell you.”

  The numbness in her chest plummeted to her stomach.

  He was dying. He’d been hiding because he’d been diagnosed with cancer or heart disease or tuberculosis, and he didn’t know how to tell her.

  Her throat wouldn’t work. Neither would her tongue. Or her lungs.

  But she ordered her body to snap out of it, and she kept her eyes clear and steady when she looked at him. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.”

  He opened his mouth.

  Natalie braced herself. She’d get through this. She had to, for Noah’s sake. For Dad’s sake. For Mom’s sake. She owed it to all of them to be strong and hold it together.

  He sucked in a breath. “I’ve asked Marilyn to be my partner in the Golden Husband Games.”

  Natalie’s spine went so rigid it cracked.

  No.

  No.

  Dad’s gaze was steady, his hand half out to her, as if it were a peace offering. An apology and a plea all in one.

  Her relief that he wasn’t dying was swallowed whole by her horror, and she didn’t care.

  She’d earned the right to be horrified.

  At least if he’d been sick, it wouldn’t have been his fault. “No,” she said.

  “Natalie—”

  She ignored the warning note in his voice and sprang to her feet. This wasn’t happening. He hadn’t just said that.

  “Replacing Mom is bad enough. But with her? How could you? How could you?”

  “She’s not the devil, Natalie.”

  “That woman marched in here tonight and threatened to publicly accuse me of fixing the Golden Husband Games.”

  Dad’s eyes flared open, then snapped narrow along with his flattening lips.

  He didn’t believe her.

  This wasn’t happening.

  Natalie had to leave. To run. Take Noah and get as far the hell from this demented town as she could. She turned to the door.

  “She’s not already buried in the backyard, is she?” Dad deadpanned.

  Natalie stopped.

  “Sit,” he said.

  She shook her head. She pinched her lips tight to keep from howling.

  “Nat, hon, that’s what happens to a person when she thinks she’s doing it all by herself for too many years.”

  “You’re excusing her. You don’t know—you don’t know how awful she’s been. The things she’s done. And Noah—Noah’s terrified of her.”

  Natalie didn’t have to turn around to see him rubbing his temples. She could hear it in his sigh. “People aren’t perfect. Even Queen Generals. I knew she wasn’t happy when I told her about Pepper’s offer, but I didn’t think she’d take it out on you. I’ll talk to her.”

  “Talk?” Natalie was screeching. She knew she was screeching, and she couldn’t stop herself. She spun back to face him, barely aware of the ground beneath her feet. All she knew was her own pulsing core of horrified disbelief. “Talk?”

  “Lot more effective than revenge.” His lips twitched in a half-grin. “But, that cupcake stunt you pulled—that was a good one.”

  “I quit the committee because of her. I kicked CJ out of my life—out of Noah’s life—because of her. Mom’s Games could be ruined because of her. And you know—you have to know the only reason she’s being nice to you is because she thought she could convince you to give her the shop. She’s brainwashing you. Don’t you care?”

  “Natalie…” The warning was back. The tension was back. She’d called him home. She’d asked for his help. And now she was attacking him.

  Justifiably, but if he was far enough off his rocker to ask that woman to stand in Mom’s place, he was obviously far enough off his rocker to not realize that this time, he was the one who was wrong.

  “Sit,” he said.

  She sat.

  Not happily, but she sat.
<
br />   She’d lost enough already. She didn’t want to lose Dad too.

  “Do you love her?” Natalie said.

  Dad barked out a surprised laugh, but there was no flushing, no hiding, no fidgeting. “No.”

  His simple answer was mildly soothing. Like putting a Band-Aid on a twisted, mangled, compound double fracture.

  “I love your mother,” he said. “No one will ever be to me what your mother is to me. But I miss having someone to talk to. Marilyn’s been missing having someone to talk to for so long, she doesn’t know she’s missing it. Ah—” He held up a hand at Natalie’s snort. “Think about how hard you’ve been working. About all the difficulties of being a single mother. Not having time to date or have friends or a social life. Then imagine living like that for over twenty-five years.”

  She was too irritated to consider the point. “You think your companionship will cure Marilyn of her—” Natalie waved her own hand and let Dad fill in whatever insult he felt appropriate.

  “I think some of the best battles are fought when the enemy doesn’t know you’ve snuck behind their lines.”

  Natalie couldn’t say much to that.

  Because she didn’t know who Dad considered to be the enemy—her, or Marilyn.

  She did know, though, that he was her dad. She’d just have to trust him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  HAVING ELOPED during Knot Fest, CJ wasn’t prepared for how seriously Bliss took their festival. He should’ve picked up on the clues. Like the obvious one when Natalie kicked him out of her life almost two weeks ago so there would be no hints of anyone marring the sanctity of her precious Games.

  He hadn’t been this upset by a woman since Serena shipped out.

  Damn good sign of something he didn’t want to think about.

  So was the fact that he’d started his own cussing jar. Pissed him off that he owed it more change now. But at least Marilyn had gotten too busy to bother him. No more invitations for dinner or hospitality receptions. Not that he minded. Last time he’d braved the Fortress, as he liked to think of Marilyn’s house at the top of Natalie’s subdivision, she’d come right out and asked him what he was worth financially. Kimmie was nearly as bad in her own way. Since Natalie had handed over all the work she’d been doing on the Golden Husband Games, Marilyn was working triple-time to help Duke and Elsie Sparks keep up, which meant Kimmie was working triple-time covering for her mother at the bakery. Kimmie could barely utter a sentence without a mention of a dream or a fortune cookie lately.