Blissed (Misfit Brides #1)

by Jamie Farrell

  “That’s a dime,” she said.

  “Nickel.”

  “Quarter, if you keep arguing.”

  Damn, he’d missed her. “Easy way or hard way, Nat. I’ll give you to the count of three to decide.”

  “Fine way to start a fake marriage.” Her pulse fluttered in her neck as fast as his blood flew through his veins.

  “One…”

  She leaned back in the chair and gave him a do it look.

  “Two…”

  Her head shifted. Left. Then right. Just enough to broadcast that she didn’t believe him.

  “Three.”

  He stepped forward.

  “Are you still playing for Serena?” she said.

  He was playing for himself. For Serena’s memory, for his freedom, for his future. “That depends,” he said. “Are you?”

  He didn’t give her a chance to respond. Instead, he scooped her up, tossed her over his shoulder, called toward the shop floor that Natalie was leaving for the day, then carried her out the door.

  He couldn’t think of a better way to start his last few days in Bliss.

  THE SUNFLOWERS were perfect.

  Natalie couldn’t say whether anything else was perfect about today, but the sunflowers were. And here, in the middle of the sunflower maze, with nothing but the blue sky and pretty yellow flowers standing tall around her while she waited for CJ to find her and take her back to the stadium for the opening ceremonies of the Golden Husband Games, she had her first chance to breathe since he’d banged on the back door of Bliss Bridal.

  First he’d tossed her in the back of Dad’s Jeep, then climbed in beside her. Then he and Dad had talked baseball and other random baloney the whole drive.

  At the stadium, CJ had explained to Duke and Elsie why Natalie was subbing for Kimmie. He’d gotten them checked in, then handed Natalie her team T-shirt. The men were whisked away to their bus while the women were shown to theirs. Keys and phones were surrendered—though Natalie held onto hers until Lindsey texted back that she’d keep Noah tonight.

  Nat had gotten a couple of weird looks on the bus, but more, she’d gotten smiles. Encouragement.

  Welcome.

  After that, she’d made a point to talk to everyone.

  Everyone.

  Including Marilyn.

  What more could the Queen General do to her? Dad was closing on the sale of the shop next week, and he insisted that Marilyn had agreed to not interfere. Pepper had offered to let Natalie stay on, which Nat appreciated, but once Knot Fest was over, she had an interview in Willow Glen.

  And a few patches to put on the iron case around her heart.

  Because CJ’s little Neanderthal act, his staking a claim and dragging her out here, had blown a few bits in the protective covering she’d been welding around her poor little organ.

  Someday she’d take the time to process it all.

  But not today. Because today, she had to put on a show for the Games.

  She blinked up at the blue sky again, and she could almost feel her mother’s smile. Warmth spread in her heart.

  Mom would’ve been glad Natalie was here. For Nat’s sake.

  And, Natalie was surprised to realize, she was okay with that. CJ had been right. She had made the Games about herself. About doing in private what she’d failed to do in public. But now she had her chance to say good-bye.

  And hopefully not make a fool of herself this time around.

  She’d miss this when she was gone. Knot Fest, the Games, The Aisle. When she left Bliss, she’d leave a part of herself behind.

  Gilbert lumbered around the corner to Natalie’s left. He was alone, which meant he was still looking for Vi.

  He squinted at Nat in surprise, which she barely noticed for trying not to gawk at his violet T-shirt emblazoned with I’m the Dove in huge green letters.

  She’d seen Vi in the complementary shirt—I’m the Rose—and she still couldn’t help staring. Nor did she have the right to stare, given the shirt she’d been ordered to change into. Damn Neanderthal.

  “What’s your clue?” Gilbert said.

  Natalie shook herself. “If you’ve found her, go on, if you’re still looking, go back,” she recited for the fifteenth time. All twenty-eight of the wives were positioned inside the maze with clues to help the husbands get through, and hers had to be useless since she was supposed to say it regardless of which direction the men came from. So far they’d all come from Gilbert’s direction, though, so maybe there was logic to it.

  The only people who knew for sure were the farmer who’d cut the maze and the dozen cameramen situated on platforms around the field, live-streaming the event to the stadium for a crowd waiting to cheer them on.

  Gilbert grunted. He moseyed back the way he’d come, and Natalie went back to pretending she didn’t know her every move was being videotaped.

  “Natalie?” an achingly familiar voice said softly from beyond a row of sunflowers.

  She stiffened, but she didn’t reply.

  It was against the rules to say anything other than her clue until her “husband” found her.

  “Hope you’re staying out of the itchweed this time,” he said.

  Half of her wanted to deck him. Mr. Hotshot Know-It-All.

  But the other half wanted to laugh. She could hear the teasing grin in his voice, and she knew all the way through her soul that he wasn’t trying to hurt her.

  But she would still hurt. Tonight, she got to pretend she was his. Tomorrow he’d be Kimmie’s, and Tuesday—

  Tuesday, he had a flight out of Bliss.

  Pepper hadn’t denied it when someone mentioned it at the boutique the other day. So it had to be true. His sister would’ve known otherwise, and his sister had looked so exasperated with him, he had to be leaving.

  CJ didn’t say anything else, and Natalie went back to alternating between watching a few fluffy clouds drift by and admiring the sunflowers. She fingered a leaf on the nearest plant. Her pink nails caught her eye.

  When Lindsey and Noah had dropped by the boutique with lunch this afternoon, Lindsey had bullied Nat into taking an hour off to get a manicure and pedicure. To give her an extra boost before the big days, Lindsey had said.

  Natalie had assumed she meant the last big days at Bliss Bridal. But could she have known—Nat shook her head. She was getting crazy thoughts, and they didn’t matter. Kimmie would be back tomorrow, and life would go on as it was supposed to.

  Still, Nat might take a few hours to look at the video footage of today.

  See if the maze was cut to look like the wedding cake Mom had envisioned. Lindsey had an ex-boyfriend at one of the news stations. He’d get them a copy.

  CJ stepped into view around the corner to her right. His eyes met hers, the green a perfect match for the sunflower leaves, and an honest, happy smile lit his face. “Hey, temporary wife. Missed you.”

  He walked down the path, his jeans rustling, his arms loose. He wore an American flag–inspired T-shirt with Team CJ and Kimmie—Dream It, Do It emblazoned across the front. The red and blue striped cotton fabric stretched from one of his shoulder to the other, with a lot of solid chest underneath.

  And he had a singular concentration on her, as if he meant what he’d said.

  He’d missed her.

  She tried to swallow, but her tongue had gone sandy and rusty at the same time.

  His smile took on a knowing bent, still hypnotic as ever. He stopped just within arm’s reach. “Miss me too?”

  God, yes. She swallowed hard. She had to keep it together. “My clue is that you’re supposed to keep going once you’ve found me.”

  His eyes narrowed. Thoughtfully, as though he were looking for the words she wanted to say instead.

  “Keep going in the maze?” he said slowly. “Or keep going somewhere else?”

  The man had an evil streak. “The maze,” she said firmly. Helpfully. Like a dutiful daughter of Bliss.

  “Because there are a few places I’d like
to go with you.”

  Her stomach tightened. So did a few areas farther south.

  She pointed left. “So we should probably go that way.”

  He crossed his arms. Lifted a brow.

  There she went, being bossy again. “Unless you’d prefer to lead. I can let you lead.”

  “Good,” he said. “Because first, we’re going to do is this.”

  He stepped forward. “I—” she croaked, but his hands settled on her waist, and she instinctively copied his movements to hook her fingers through his belt loops, and suddenly he was brushing a soft kiss against the corner of her lips.

  She recoiled.

  Not because she didn’t want to kiss him.

  But because she hadn’t earned this. Being here today. At Mom’s last Husband Games. Kissing a guy she couldn’t keep.

  It wasn’t right.

  “Smile, beautiful,” he murmured. “Cameras are watching.”

  It took a minute for the message to break through the haze of feelings coloring her world. But when it did, it killed every happy thought she’d had about him in the last hour.

  “You ass—jerk.” She shoved him away, and considered adding a kick to the shin for good measure.

  He laughed.

  Laughed.

  Her temper spiked, but he slipped an arm around her and pressed a friendly kiss to her hair. “That’s the Natalie I was looking for. I missed you. What say we get out of this maze? Heard a rumor we might have a few minutes alone on the ride back to the stadium. We could make out.”

  There went her mouth doing the not-working-right thing again. All because his mouth went and did the saying-all-the-right-things thing again.

  “So, temporary wife, which way’s out?”

  She looked at him, then in front of her, then behind, her fury and confusion and doubts colliding. “I don’t know.”

  He flashed her another classic CJ grin. “Then let’s go figure it out.” He twisted back to face the path, linked his fingers through hers, and pulled her along.

  And she went, because he was holding her hand, and he was treating her to those wonderful, terrible smiles he used so well, and even if he was pushing her buttons, he was here.

  He dragged her along, cracking jokes and teasing her. Five turns later, they stumbled across Marilyn.

  She was squatting, pushing frantically at the straw and dirt.

  Natalie and CJ stopped.

  Marilyn looked up, then stood. Bits of straw stuck in her hair and to her black pants, dirt was streaked across her white Going for Gold T-shirt, and instead of showing off her queenly or General sides, she wore a human expression with something akin to grief dragging at her eyes. “Head north, and you’ll soon be back south,” she said.

  She touched her ear, then did a weak impersonation of her normal nod of dismissal.

  Her diamond earring was missing.

  CJ was squinting at her. He started to turn around—of course he knew which direction north was—but Natalie stopped him. “Did you lose it here?” she asked Marilyn.

  Marilyn didn’t speak. But she gave a single nod. Her eyes shone. She blinked twice, and they went back to normal. She dropped back to the ground, searching in the straw.

  Natalie looked up at CJ. She could hardly believe what she was about to do, but maybe Dad was right. And she knew her mother would approve.

  The earrings were obviously special.

  Natalie stepped closer to Marilyn. She squatted a few feet away. “Have you looked here yet?”

  The shine came back in Marilyn’s eye. She shook her head.

  CJ joined them, and all three of them combed the ground, looking for the earring.

  There were three more events tomorrow. Natalie’s gut tightened. He was on his own for the last two. If he had any chance of winning, he needed to do well in the sunflower field. She needed to not slow him down.

  But maybe—just maybe—life was about more than the Games.

  For all of them.

  CJ HAD BEEN RIGHT the first time he asked Natalie to be his partner. Would’ve preferred it hadn’t taken Kimmie needing stitches, but Natalie was with him now.

  They’d finished the sunflower maze and they were sitting onstage in front of a packed stadium, listening to the roar of a crowd the likes of which he hadn’t heard since the last time the Cubs made the play-offs. Highlights of the maze race flashed on a giant screen behind them. Sunset was coming on, and in the soft light, with Kimmie’s T-shirt hanging too wide on her shoulders, Natalie glowed.

  He’d been surprised when she stopped to help Marilyn. She was one hell of a woman, not only stopping to help her biggest enemy, but then doing the impossible in finding the diamond amidst all that straw. But after she’d pulled that earring out of the ground, she’d looked at him, told him to haul ass, and then she’d sassed him the rest of the way through the maze and all the way back to the stadium. He’d been certain she was enjoying herself. But now, she was near mute.

  He got it. Being semi-alone in a freaking amazing sunflower maze was worlds away from sitting on a stage before over five thousand people, playing husband to a woman who drove him crazy—good crazy and bad crazy—while he was supposed to be here honoring Serena.

  He squeezed Nat’s hand.

  She jumped.

  “Thanks,” he said. “Couldn’t do this without you.”

  “You’re you. You could’ve done this with or without anyone. But thank you for asking me. Again.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” an irritating female voice boomed throughout the stadium. The sound was so loud, CJ’s teeth rattled. “Welcome to the Golden Husband Games.”

  The crowd roared. Natalie half-smiled at CJ, then turned her attention to the woman who had taken her mother’s place.

  The crowd’s cheers grew. So did Natalie’s half-smile. Thinking about what her mother would’ve thought about the crowd, he’d bet. She looked around the stadium, at all the people, at the couples around them, then back at CJ. “Kimmie will enjoy this tomorrow,” she said.

  He didn’t bother correcting her misconception. She’d fight him about it, and this was a talk best had in private.

  Fine with him.

  He didn’t want her soft and easy. He had just a few more days with her, and he wanted her for her. Getting an excuse to visit her tonight—all the better.

  CJ smiled, and Natalie turned back to watch Elsie introduce the couples.

  The Games had just begun.

  NATALIE’S FEET ACHED, her head pounded, and when she caught herself about to snarl at Dad over a SpaghettiOs splatter on the counter she’d just wiped down, she grabbed the bottle of red wine Pepper had slipped her while she was trying to escape the post-opening-events festivities, and she took herself out onto the swing on the back porch.

  She hadn’t bothered with a cup, and she didn’t know enough about red wine to know if she were guzzling a ten-dollar or a fifty-dollar bottle. She did, however, appreciate the warm glow the first two gulps had given her belly.

  If only the glow would spread faster.

  “Nat?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m going to bed.” Dad’s loafers shuffled behind her. He touched her shoulder. “Real proud of you, hon.”

  The warmth in her belly spread to her lungs. “You too, old man,” she said. “Fourth place is nothing to sneeze at.” Despite stopping to search for the earring, CJ had taken second tonight.

  “I meant for all your hard work.” Dad ruffled her hair, then kissed it. “Marilyn’s earrings?” he added. “They were the last present her husband gave her before he died. Meant a lot to her.” He stepped back. “Don’t stay up late. Long day tomorrow.”

  No kidding. She’d called Kimmie, who insisted she was fine. So Natalie would be glued to the public access channel tomorrow, watching CJ and Kimmie and Dad and Marilyn play Mom’s last Games.

  She wasn’t strong enough to watch in person. “Night, Dad.”

  He shuffled back to the door. Natalie dropped he
r head back and closed her eyes. He was right. She needed to get to bed too.

  Her swing shifted beneath her as if a boulder had suddenly sat down on the opposite end. She snapped upright and gaped like an idiot at her Highland warrior Neanderthal.

  “Your dad said you were out here,” CJ said before she could speak. He stretched out, his arm draping across the back of the swing, his fingers brushing the skin above her tank top. He nodded at the bottle. “Any chance you’re sharing that?”

  She wordlessly handed it over.

  He put the bottle to his lips—the same lips that had kissed her no fewer than three times at various points this evening—tipped it back, and took a long swallow.

  Then he pulled back and gave a loud shudder. “That’s disgusting.”

  She felt the pull in her cheeks, a helpless desire to smile growing despite the uneven fluttering of her pulse.

  “Jeez, who’d you piss off?” He held the bottle for inspection in the low light. “Somebody calls this wine?”

  Now her diaphragm was getting into it, pushing her to give in. To laugh. “It’s from your sister.”

  “Eleven of ’em, and not a one has a bit of taste. You saw Ginger’s husband tonight, right? The guy leaves the toilet seat up. Can you imagine?”

  She’d seen his whole family tonight. All of them, every one of his sisters, his three brothers-in-law, his seven nieces, his grandma, Father Basil again, his parents. His in-laws.

  “And that’s why I need the alcohol,” she said, more to herself than to him.

  He laughed, and she gave in and smiled back. Before CJ, she hadn’t ever been funny. It was surprisingly enjoyable.

  “So, tomorrow,” CJ said. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  She eyed the bottle. One gulp couldn’t affect a person that fast. “Pick me up? Don’t you have to be at the reception at seven?”

  He pushed the swing into motion. “In the morning.”

  She choked on the question, For what?

  Because for what was suddenly obvious. She shook her head. She shook her head, and she couldn’t stop. “Kimmie’s fine. She’s back. You don’t need me anymore.” But she was also giving herself a mental beating.