My Fake Fiancé : Navy SEAL Romance, Standalone, Book 3 of Guilty Series (The Guilty Series )

by Odette Stone

  It didn't budge. Reverse or forward, the car did nothing but spit gallons of mud high into the air behind me.

  I’m from New York. In public, at any given time, there are dozens of people around. Here, there was no one. Not for miles. I felt like I should know what to do, but I was at a loss. I picked up my phone, but it had no cell service.

  Holding a plastic bag over my head, I stepped out of the car. My Calvin Klein boots sunk ankle deep into the thick black mud. The back wheels were ground into the mud up to the rim. I knew enough that retrieving my car would require a tow truck.

  And there was nothing but rolling grassy hills, the occasional tree and the winding driveway surrounding me.

  In the middle of the downpour, I debated my options. I could sit in the car and hope someone drove by, but since I hadn’t actually seen another human being in the last two hours, that was unlikely. The other option was to walk, through the rain, sans umbrella and coat, to Porter’s parents’ house.

  I cursed my stupidity. Instead of phoning them, out of an irrational fear that they wouldn’t talk to me, I had decided that showing up, unannounced, would give me the best chance to be heard. In my wildest imagination, I never imagined they lived on the edge of civilization. I thought I’d show up, have a quick chat and be back on my way to the airport.

  Instead, I would show up on their doorstep, soaking wet, and without a vehicle. If they didn’t want to talk to me, it’d be extremely awkward.

  Twenty minutes later, a huge house came into view. Drenched and chilled from the rain, with a wet thong that was rubbing my ass in all the wrong ways, I stopped and re-weighed my options.

  I’d ask to speak to Porter’s mom. At the engagement party, she had exuded warmth and kindness. Even if she refused to tell me where Porter was, even if she didn’t want to speak to me, I was certain she’d call a tow truck for me.

  My boots echoed on the wide, wooden veranda. I pushed my wet hair off my face.

  I knocked.

  And waited.

  And waited.

  It hadn’t crossed my mind that they wouldn’t be home.

  I knocked again.

  An older woman swung the door open wide.

  We studied each other. She looked no-nonsense. There was a sturdiness to her, a strength in her stance. In her expression.

  “Sorry to drop by without calling first, but is Mrs. Lyons home?”

  She held the door opened even wider. I stepped into the massive foyer. The place felt majestic yet homey.

  “Come,” she instructed and started to walk.

  I pointed at my wet clothes and muddy boots. “I’m filthy. I can’t mess up your floors.”

  “Floors can be washed.”

  I wiped my boots off on the mat as best as I could, before following her down the long hallway. I could hear voices. Laughter. The sound of kids giggling. The woman stopped and pointed towards a door.

  “You want me to go in there?”

  She had to be joking.

  “Do you think maybe you could see if Mrs. Lyons wants to come out and talk to me?”

  She grabbed my arm and pushed me through the double french doors.

  Chapter 59

  Holy hell. It was a dinner party.

  For about a million people.

  A long dinner table lined the length of the entire room, and everywhere I looked was Porter’s family. His brothers. Parents. Kids. Women. And a whole bunch of faces I didn’t recognize. Another shiver wracked my body.

  The entire room fell silent as they all took note of me.

  And then I saw him.

  Porter.

  He sat beside a little kid. Grey eyes met mine, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe.

  Oh, my.

  Porter was here. My heart sang as I drank in his appearance. He seemed different. Additional stubble and even longer hair made him look tougher than I remembered. Those slate grey eyes surveyed me back.

  I tried to wipe the longing off my face but failed.

  What was he doing here?

  Why didn’t either of us say anything?

  Drip.

  Drip.

  Drip.

  The silence in the room was so deafening, you could hear the water dripping off my clothes.

  I cleared my throat, more than conscious of the dozens of eyes that watched me with varying degrees of shock and curiosity.

  Why hadn’t I phoned?

  The irrationality of my actions was only exacerbated by the fact that I was covered in mud and completely soaked. I prided myself on never overstepping my boundaries with any of my ex-boyfriends, but at that moment, I realized that I probably looked like some crazy stalker chick.

  Maybe I was.

  If I had a working car that wasn’t a twenty-minute walk away and stuck in a ditch, I would have bootlegged it out of there, but right now, my only option was to say something.

  “Why are you so muddy?” a small boy saved me from speaking first.

  My eyes dropped down to my pants that were caked in mud.

  “There was a squirrel on the road.”

  The kid’s lip started to wobble. “Did he die? Did you run him over?”

  The entire room’s gaze volleyed back to me.

  “He’s fine. But to save him, my car hit the ditch.”

  Miles, no maybe it was Brice, hunched over his plate, his eyes cast down, while his shoulders shook.

  It took me a second before I realized he was trying to not laugh.

  Someone else snorted.

  And then the entire room exploded in laughter.

  Porter’s mom, with amused concern, spoke over the laughter, “That was very thoughtful of you, Beth.”

  Porter stood. He walked towards me, took my arm and steered me out of the room. At first, I wasn’t sure if he was guiding me to the door to boot my ass back into the rain, but it became apparent that he was leading me up the stairs. He pushed me into a bedroom.

  He crossed his arms and leaned against the dresser. He didn’t need to speak, his expression told me that he wasn’t impressed. Still, my greedy eyes soaked in the sight of him. His presence was larger than life. So strong and muscular. Stupidly hot.

  Fuck, I had missed him. Down to the core of my soul.

  “I didn’t think you’d be here,” I finally said.

  “Why’d you come then?”

  “I was hoping your family could tell me where you were.” A shiver wracked my body.

  “Go shower. You’re freezing.”

  This clinical conversation was opposite of how I had imagined our first conversation.

  “Don’t you want to talk?”

  “We can talk when you’re not dripping wet.”

  It felt like an imposition, but I obediently moved to the bathroom and stared at my appearance in the mirror. I almost didn’t recognize myself. My face was streaked with dirt, and my hair was plastered to my head. After a flight, five hours of driving and a rainstorm, my make up was non-existent.

  My throat convulsed. This wasn’t how I thought our talk would go. I hadn’t been expecting hearts and flowers, but I thought I’d get more than what he gave me. Which was exactly nothing.

  Now what? After I showered, would he listen to my apology? If he kicked me out, I’d still need someone to tow my car out of the ditch.

  I soaped myself off and wrapped myself in a towel. I looked at my dirty, wet clothes lying on the floor and realized I didn’t have anything to replace them with. My suitcase was in the car. I didn’t even have clean underwear.

  I tugged the big fluffy towel tighter around my body and took a bolstering breath before opening the door. Porter stood by the window, looking out at the rain. I felt nothing but relief seeing him still in the room.

  At least he was willing to talk.

  Now. Now I’d beg him to forgive me. For not trusting him. For not believing in him. For not hearing him out.

  He didn’t turn around. “I betrayed you.”

  I took a moment to gather my though
ts. “No, my dad betrayed me, and he blackmailed you. He forced you to protect me, and he forced you into an uncompromising position with your secret.”

  “I would have protected you. I didn’t want his money.”

  “I know that. He knew that, too. The only reason he wanted you to take the money was so he had something to hold over you.”

  “It wasn’t my secret that I was protecting.”

  “I don’t know what that secret was, but I know you acted honorably.”

  “I told him I wanted to marry you for real, but you needed to know the truth.”

  I clung to the thick post of the four-poster bed. “Dad told me that, too. He told me everything.”

  Finally, he turned around, his face puzzled. “Why did you come here to apologize? You did nothing wrong.”

  “I should’ve trusted you and believed you. And at the very least, I should have listened to your side of the story.”

  “Why didn’t you?” he walked towards me. Reminding me of a big cat, moving towards his prey.

  I lifted my hand in a helpless gesture. “First, we were going to announce that we were not getting married. And then your family showed up. And then you were gone all night. And Detective Christensen came, and you revealed you were with Felicia. And I was so jealous.”

  Porter’s arm wrapped around my waist and yanked me hard against his warm body. His mouth crushed down on mine.

  Yes. Fuck, yes.

  I moaned and wrapped my arms around his neck.

  He lifted his head. “Why would you be jealous of Felicia?”

  “Because she’s gorgeous, and I saw your photos with her on your phone. And the day after I told you how I felt, you talked to her for ten minutes.”

  “I told you I’m a one-woman man.”

  “But you didn’t tell me who your woman was.”

  “You didn’t know? Not even when I did this?” His hand moved between my legs.

  My knees almost buckled as I felt his fingers rim my opening. “Why did you talk to her for ten minutes?”

  “To tell her it was over. To ask her to stop calling me.”

  I moaned, as I felt his fingers push into me. “I didn’t know that. But then you went to see her in the middle of the night.”

  “I needed to get my grandmother’s ring from her. I wanted to give it to you.” His fingers were punishing, but my body couldn’t get enough.

  I rode those fingers like my life depended on it. My voice rasped with pleasure, “I didn’t think you’d come to the church. I was such a bitch to you.”

  He bit my neck. “You know it makes me hot when you get all feisty.”

  I panted as those big fingers teasingly tortured me. “And then you showed up to the church. And I wasn’t sure if you were there because you wanted to be or because you felt obligated.”

  His thumb circle my clit. “I told you at the front of the church how crazy I am about you. I told you I wanted to marry you.”

  “And I was so happy. Deliriously so, but then you were accused of only pretending to love me for money, and both my father and you wouldn’t deny it.”

  His fingers had slowed, and now he stroked my g-spot until my legs shook. “I wanted you to hear my side of things.” His thumb moved so lazily, I thought I was going to die. “I wanted to tell you the truth.”

  “I’m sorry,” I gasped. “So sorry.”

  “You think that maybe you need to be punished a bit?”

  “Yes, I totally think that’d make me feel better.” I was so close. So close to coming all over his hand. I shut my eyes as my body prepared itself to come apart.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  Porter’s hand stilled. “What?” he called.

  “We’re heading down the road to tow Beth’s car out. Want to help?” a male voice called through the door.

  “Be right out!”

  I whimpered as his fingers slid out of my body. I was so close to having an orgasm, I saw double. “You can’t leave me like this,” I gasped.

  “You heard them. I have to go.” The amusement rang clear in his voice.

  “I hate you,” I said weakly.

  He pressed a hot kiss to my lips. “Come downstairs and have something to eat. We can finish this conversation later.”

  “I don’t have any clothes.”

  “Find something of mine to put on.”

  Chapter 60

  I pulled on a pair of Porter’s sweats and a baggy sweatshirt. I swam in his clothes, but since I wasn’t wearing a bra or underwear, I was okay with that.

  Downstairs, his mom waited for me in the kitchen. It seemed like everyone else had left. “I have some dinner for you.” She gently put her arm around my shoulders. “Come and sit down.”

  I obediently sat down. The steaming bowl of soup and bread that she set before me smelled incredible. “Thank you.”

  She squeezed my shoulder. “I’m thrilled you’re here.”

  “I am, too.”

  She sat across the table from me. “Please, eat. You look like you need a few hearty meals.”

  Obediently, I picked up the spoon.

  She watched me eat for a few moments and spoke, “You know, I wanted a girl more than anything. When I was pregnant with Porter, I knew six kids were more than enough, and I prayed that my last baby would be a girl.”

  She had my attention. “It was like Porter knew that, and he came out squawking mad, red-faced and pissed off. I wasn’t prepared for all of his emotion. All of his passion. His older brothers are like me. Calm and patient. Slow to anger. Slow to feel. Porter’s exactly like my husband. Passionate with the ability to feel so deeply.”

  She laughed as she played with her teacup. “He’s also the youngest. He couldn’t keep up with his brothers simply because he was so little. When he was a toddler, with these tiny chubby legs, he couldn’t stand that he couldn’t keep up with them. Can you imagine a three-year-old angry because he can’t keep up with a twelve-year-old? He was always so determined. He never saw his size or his age as a limitation. From the day he could crawl, he’s been working to catch up and pass his older brothers.”

  Her eyes met mine. “Porter is exactly like my husband. They both have that fiery passion that can outshine anyone. Those two love harder than anyone else. But Porter had some losses early on associated with that passion, and now, he equates love and that intensity with something bad.”

  “He hides it. He hides how he really feels,” I blurted out.

  She nodded. “I know. He’s changed a lot since he joined the military. When he was 18, he wore his heart on his sleeve. He was either laughing or fighting but either way, he was the light of the party. These days, the only thing I know about him is that he’s desperately in love with you.”

  My throat thickened. “I love him, too.”

  “You know, the whole family took bets on how long it’d take him before he went searching for you.”

  “Really?”

  She patted my arm. “I got the sense he was giving you as much space as he could, but it was only a matter of time until he couldn’t handle not seeing you.”

  Was she speaking the truth?

  I chewed on my lip and stared at my empty soup bowl. “Thank you for dinner.”

  She waved my hand away when I tried to pick up my dishes. “Go now and sit near the fire in the living room. Porter will be back in in a few minutes.”

  I wandered into the massive living room that overlooked the endless yard. I watched as a tractor towed my car up the road. Behind it, two men in yellow rain jackets walked behind the car.

  I instantly recognized Porter. He laughed at something his brother said and shoved him. His brother shoved him back, and they were suddenly in a full-on struggle, both laughing, both pushing against each other like two bulls in the rain.

  The guy in the tractor stood on the back of it and shouted something at them. Still laughing, they walked to the end of the tractor to unhitch my car. My heart beat solid in my chest, watching him with his brothe
rs. He seemed so at home here. This place suited him.

  He waved goodbye to them. They moved off, and he pulled my suitcase out of the backseat and walked towards the house.

  Without speaking, he sat down on the couch beside me. I couldn’t keep my focus off his face. That mouth. Those cheekbones. Those grey eyes that focused on me.

  “Are you still mad?” I asked.

  “Beth, I was never angry with you.”

  No. It had been me who’d been angry.

  “What happens now?”

  “I need to tell you the whole truth about me.” He fixed his gaze at the flames that flickered in the fireplace. “But if you don’t want to have anything to do with me after I tell you, you have to promise not to leave tonight. The roads are too shitty.”

  “Porter, I’m not going to leave.”

  Grimness defined his features. “You might want to after you hear this.”

  I swallowed and waited.

  He stared into the fire. “When I was 17, I got Mandy, my 16-year-old girlfriend, pregnant.”

  Wow.

  I blinked and didn’t move a muscle.

  “I was such a cocky kid. When she told me that she was having my baby, I was overjoyed. I wasn’t even in 12th grade, but in my mind, it was just life, and we were living it. I got on my knees and proposed right there.”

  I worked to bring air into my lungs and fought all the questions that threatened to push out of me.

  “My parents weren’t happy that they had a grandkid on the way, but along with her parents, they signed papers, giving us permission to get married. On the condition that we both finished school. I was so arrogant, so certain I could take care of shit, I got careless.”

  “Mandy wasn’t the most experienced rider, but I wanted to take her to the top of this mountain ridge. I told her it was the best view in the entire world. And she trusted me. We were heading up there on a narrow trail, and her horse got spooked and reared back.”

  His eyes dropped down at his hands. “She was five months pregnant, and she fell 50 feet and landed on a tiny outbreak of rock.”

  My hand covered my mouth, my eyes never leaving his face.

  “My dad, he’d warned me again and again about that ridge, but I never listened to him. I didn’t listen to him about anything. By some miracle, my dad was in the pasture below, and he saw the entire thing.” He took a deep breath. “Using a rope and his horse, my dad lowered me down to that ledge. Mandy was lying there. So silent. So quiet. Like she was sleeping. I cradled her in my arms, and my dad and his horse pulled us back up.”