by Caro LaFever
“I’d take that bet.” His head didn’t lift. “You’re feeling sorry for me, and my pa scared you.”
“That’s not all—”
“You don’t have to worry, though,” he said to the ceiling. “I have Maggie and my staff. I’ll be well taken care of.”
“That’s not why I came back.”
“I know. You came back because my stupid father scared you.” He gritted his teeth. “In effect, he tricked you. I’m not near death’s door like he insinuated.”
“I wouldn’t say—”
“He tricked you like I did.”
The self-loathing in his voice made her heart ache. He’d hurt her, it was true. But in the process, he’d hurt himself as well. Her behavior during the last week had added to that pain, and she regretted her temper and her pride. She should have stopped to think. She should have taken the time to remember all the good, instead of focusing on only the bad. “I forgive you. I’m sorry I got angry.”
Nick lifted his head with a jerk that made him flinch.
“Watch out.” She smoothed her hand along his bare toes. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
His expression went fierce. “I deserve to be hurt. I deserve everything I get.”
What she wanted to give him was everything. Everything inside her, every gift she could possibly find for him. Because he’d given her so much and she’d forgotten. “Nick—”
“Jessica.” His voice was hard and tough, and no nickname curled around her in a tease. “You shouldn’t even think about forgiving me. What I did was unforgivable.”
“Maybe. But I forgive you anyway.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do.” Her temper started to bubble.
A string of Spanish erupted from his mouth, curses she guessed. Her passionate husband had lost his own temper. She could see it in the wildness in his eyes.
“You shouldn’t get so angry,” she stated. “It can’t be good for you in your condition.”
“You’re not thinking straight,” he roared. “You're living in a fantasy world.”
At his charge, her temper exploded, as well. Stomping to the side of his bed, she leaned down to glare. “Don’t discount my intelligence.”
“I never did,” he shouted at her. “Not from the moment I met you.”
“Then know that I understand what I’m doing, and why I’m here.”
His breath rasped. “You don’t.”
Jess grabbed at her temper, corralling it into control. Barely. This wasn’t what she wanted, though, and it couldn’t be good for his health to be this upset. “Calm down.”
“Fuck you,” he spat.
For some reason, his profane attack tickled her funny bone. A grin tugged at her mouth. “I’m game if you are.”
“Demonios.” He plopped his head on the pillow and closed his eyes. Despair filled his expression. “Leave me alone.”
She needed to keep going. For both of them. If she left this room with things unresolved, knowing this man, he’d use his money and power to block her access. Maybe a lighter tack was called for. “Is that a demand, cowboy?”
For the first time, a glimmer of amusement twisted his lips. But then, they went flat. “I won’t let you fool yourself.”
“Well, thank you.” Since she was on his good side, she chanced a plop on the bed. She wanted to touch him, yet she knew it would be the wrong move at this point. Still, getting as close as she could so she’d be ready for anything was a smart move. “I hate being made to look like a fool.”
His eyes flashed open, filled with sorrow. “I didn’t mean to do that. Not from the moment I met you did I want to make you feel like a fool.”
“I know.” Before she could stop herself, she slid her hand on his thigh and squeezed. “Créeme.”
Her one word, a word he’d given her, appeared to shock him. His mouth fell open for a second. Then, it snapped shut and with a brisk shove, he pushed her hand away. “I don’t want to be married to you anymore.”
Her confidence shivered. But there was something in those eyes of his that gave her hope. A fragment of desperate need, of unquenched want. “Why not? You wanted the marriage a few days ago.”
“We’re going in circles.” In a surprising move, he was the one to grab her hand. “Listen to me.”
“All right.” She laced her fingers through his. “I’m listening.”
“Remember the day we went into the desert on my motorcycle?” He kept his gaze on their linked hands.
“Yes, I do. It was wonderful.” Letting that wonder fill her voice, she hoped he’d understand how much it meant to her. “You taught me how to be free.”
“I didn’t teach you anything but ugliness.”
“That is not true—”
“Listen.” His hand tightened on hers. “I’m only going to say this one time.”
Sighing, she subsided. “Go on.”
“That mountain we climbed reminded me of a place on the ranch. A place I went to as a boy.”
Immediate understanding welled. “That’s where you fell from yesterday.”
“Yeah,” he drawled. “That’s not what’s important, though.”
“What’s important?”
At her question, he finally looked into her eyes. The blue was filled with disgust and a deep anger. At no one but himself. “What’s important is that crag is where I went to make decisions as a boy.”
“And the mountain we visited before is where you go to make decisions now.”
“Correct.” A faint smile crossed his mouth. “My smart Jessie.”
“I am yours,” she vowed.
The smile dropped away, replaced with a scowl. “I went to the crag and made a decision.”
“To not want me as a wife.”
“No. I made a decision that I’m not good enough for you. I never was.”
Jess leaned back in shock. She’d known there were hidden pockets of pain in this man. She’d spotted the flashes of anger masking some deeper wounds. But she’d never once thought of Nick Townsend with no confidence in his worth.
“That is so untrue,” she sputtered.
“It’s absolutely true. It’s the truest thing I’ve ever said to you.” He dropped her hand. “Créeme.”
A terrible rage filled her. It didn’t resemble the temper she’d suppressed her entire life. It didn’t bubble underneath her control or whisper rebellion in her ear. This rage filled her to overflowing, blasting through her like a desert windstorm. With a swift move of her own, she clambered onto the bed and the man, settling herself right on top of his hips.
Another string of Spanish lit into the room, this time accompanied by a passionate wave of his one good hand. “You’re hurting me. Get off!”
She might have retreated, if she hadn’t felt his unmistakable hardness under her crotch. “No can do. I’ve got you now.”
His glare could have easily scorched the earth and hell below if she’d paid any attention to it. Instead, she chose to pay attention to another part of his body.
She rocked. Gently, but she rocked.
“Maldición a todos al infierno,” he swore at her.
“Inferno. That means heat, right?” She grinned at him.
In a snap, she knew she had him. Not just this hard body beneath her. Not just the ferocious temper and passion-filled eyes. No, what she had was his heart. Now that she had a minute to take his words in, she saw everything.
He loved her so much he was willing to walk away to stop himself from hurting her.
Damn him.
He was trying to protect her once more.
“Get off,” he rasped.
Ignoring him, she leaned in and placed her head between the notch of his neck and his good shoulder. “Listen to me.”
“I don’t want—”
“I listened to you, Nick. It’s only fair you listen to me.”
He huffed, but thankfully, fell silent.
Taking a moment, Jess pulled everything out of her heart and he
ad and soul. Every bit of love and anger. Every bit of confidence and fear. She wanted to make sure she had everything to lay before him.
Her gift to him.
“I love you,” she whispered the words into his skin, hoping they would swim through him as they swam through her.
He tensed. “No. You don’t—”
“Shut up,” she demanded.
For some reason, that made him relax again.
“That’s better,” she muttered into his neck. “Now, listen.”
“Sí, sí.” Was that a muffled chuckle? “Yes, ma’am.”
“I love your charm and casual grace. The way you take me into your arms and dance me around a room or into the desert.” Brushing her hands along his sides, she remembered. “I love your smart brain, and how you can think as fast as me.”
A low grunt came from above her. It gave her the courage to push past her lingering fear and into a whole new level of being. “I love your pride in your accomplishments, and I even, occasionally, love how you want to protect me.”
“Occasionally?”
That was definitely amusement in his voice. Excellent, she was getting there with him. But now came the crucial moment. The moment where she had to make him understand she didn’t just love the good of him.
She loved the ugly.
This, she had to say face-to-face. Lurching up, she caught his chin in one hand. Instead of the usual sleek and polished Nick Townsend, what she had in her hands was the rough cowboy, the guy who lost his charm when he lost his temper. The guy who hid his jagged edges behind a smooth façade.
A guy who was essentially perfect for her.
Because she hid too, and she understood the impulse. She also had spent her entire life thinking of herself as unworthy. Not until this man entered her life had she come to know her intrinsic worth.
She aimed to give this man the same gift he’d given her.
“I need to shave,” he winced.
“No, you don’t.” She slid her palm on his whiskers. “You don’t need to pretend, or polish, or persuade me anymore.”
“Alliteration?” A twinkle of stars lit his eyes. “Aren’t I the one who likes alliteration?”
If she let him, he’d dance away from her. He’d accept her love, but never love himself. She could see it in the determined slant of his chin, and the pretend smile trying to creep across his lips. “Don’t try to fool me. I’ve got your number.”
Fear flickered in the blue. “I’m just trying—”
Using her hand, she slammed his mouth shut. She knew this part would be hard, for him and for her. Except it needed to be done so they both would be free.
Free to be themselves and know they were still loved.
Free to be angry and stupid, and sometimes hurtful. And still know there was love.
Free to be their everything.
“Do you trust me?”
His eyes widened at her question, but without a second lost, he nodded his head.
A sweet well of pure love swirled into her heart to settle once and for all. “I trust you, too.”
Disbelief filled his expression and he began to shake his head instead of nod.
“Shut up,” she demanded again. “And listen.”
He gave her a blank look, showing he couldn’t imagine what else she had to say.
“When two people trust each other,” she said. “That’s when they gain the treasure.”
“¿Qué?” His question was muffled, but understandable. Although no understanding filtered into his expression.
Frustrated, she came closer, her nose almost touching his. “Remember that list of things I love about you that I talked about a few seconds ago?”
“Yeah,” he grumbled, as if he hated the subject.
“Then trust me when I say what I love most about you is your temper.”
The blue of his eyes went dark with more disbelief.
She kept going, though. Because there was so much of the ugly she had to embrace. Loosening her grip on his chin, she continued, “I also happen to love it when you start to speak in Spanish, because I know that it means you’re free.”
“Free to speak in Spanish?” He grimaced. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that unlike your dad, I’m never going to ask you to be anyone other than who you are.”
A flinch crossed his face, telling her she’d hit a point of pain. But there were more. Instinct told her so. “It means you don’t have to prove yourself over and over to me. You don’t need to prove anything to me ever again.”
“That’s not true.” The obstinate man fisted his hands on his chest, apparently trying to shield himself from the truths she was determined to make him understand.
“I love you, Nick Townsend, ugly temper and beautiful body. Awful past and amazing present.”
“Jessie. Stop.”
Irritation began to bloom inside. “You gave me a fantasy world, you jerk, and it’s one I want to live in for the rest of my life.”
“Fantasy, huh? Jerk is more like it.” A touch of cynical edged his words.
“My life is a perfect fantasy when you’re in it.”
“Fantasy isn’t real life, though, Ginger Snap.” Worry filled his expression. “And I can’t always behave in the way you want me to.”
“You can’t be my knight in cowboy boots?” She threw the tease at him, trying to lighten his mood and her own.
“Not even close.” Another gusty sigh escaped him. “I can be awful.”
“Yes, you can.”
He yanked his focus from the far wall to her. His jaw tightened. “And you’ve seen it more than once.”
“True.”
“And I lied to you.”
“Yep,” she said. “You sure did.”
A flicker of anger crossed his face. “So you can—”
“Is that it? Are those all your crimes against me?”
He looked nonplussed for a moment, then he frowned. “There are far too many to list.”
“Really.” Grabbing his fisted hands in hers, she leaned in. “How about I list some of mine for a change of pace?”
A look of intense aggravation crossed his face. “You don’t have any.”
“No?” She flashed him a determined grin. “How about my jumping to all sorts of conclusions in Tasmania when I found that contract?”
“They were the correct conclusions.”
“Oh? Was I right when I assumed you didn’t love me at all, but merely manipulated me into marriage to get my hotels?”
His frown turned to a scowl. “I did manipulate you.”
“So you’re saying you don’t love me?”
He shifted under her, unease flickering in his eyes. “I told you at the ranch. I do love you.”
“Then I assume you forgive me for losing my temper and judging you so harshly?”
“Of course…” His words trailed off and his expression turned blank as the reality of what she was trying to show him sunk in.
“Remember that treasure I mentioned?” She leaned close enough that her words whispered on his lips. “The treasure we’ve found is trusting enough to understand and accept each other for who we really are. My love is unconditional, cowboy.”
His brows furrowed in confusion, yet there was starlight in his eyes.
Finally, she allowed herself to lean in for a soft kiss. A blending of their two mouths. He didn’t participate, still, he didn’t reject, either.
Pulling back, she sealed their deal. “I love you for better or worse.”
A shudder ran through his long body.
“I have you and I mean to hold you.”
“You do, huh?”
“Yeah,” she drawled, her body growing warm next to his. Because she saw the win in his gaze. She saw the consent. “Remember our wedding vows? Where I gave you my word?”
“Yeah.” His drawl was soft and slow. His eyes glowed with tears, and hope. “I gave my word to you, too.”
“You did.” B
rushing her fingers across his wet cheeks, she gave him a pointed look. “And I aim to hold you to it, cowboy.”
His hand grabbed hers and his fingers laced through hers. “I can be ugly.”
“So can I.” She smiled down at her husband-forever. “But we both can be beautiful, too.”
Epilogue
Nick Townsend was the proud father of four amazing, astonishing, astounding boys.
Who he happened to want to kill at the moment.
“No, you don’t,” his wife said, grabbing his hand and lacing her fingers through his. “They didn’t mean to do it.”
“They damn well did,” he growled, glaring at the wasted circle of cows.
Wasted. As in drunk.
“I believe it might have been some kind of science project. They were doing some testing, that’s all.”
He surveyed the barrels where the last of the fall’s apples were stored. Then, he examined the glass jars strewn throughout the outhouse, filled with fermented fruit. After that, he went back to glaring at his cows. “Testing. On. My. Cows.”
“They’re mine as well as yours.”
Which was true. Everything he had was hers, and everything she had was his. It had been the pact they’d made once they’d found their love had survived the chaos of their fathers’ plans and schemes. Now, she was as apt to make a decision about his casinos as he was. And he was as knee-deep in making decisions about the McDowell hotels as his wife.
“Pa is going to be mad as hell.”
“No, he won’t,” his Jessie said with confidence. “He’s going to be proud of them.”
Probably true. In fact, now that he thought about it, he wouldn’t put it past his father to have been part of this whole debacle. The man had gone soft in his old age.
Which only made Nick angrier.
“I think you need to calm down.” His wife was nothing, if not determined.
Usually, it was one of the things he loved about her. Yet, right at the moment, he was on the warpath, and he didn’t want anyone getting in his way. “Where are they?”
“I don’t know.” Glancing toward the barn, she made a poor attempt at smothering a knowing smile.
He wasn’t going to stand around and make his wife lie to him. “Never mind. I know where.”
