by Liz Isaacson
“I love it. Thanks.” He picked up the big present and handed it to her. “Same stipulation. It’s the thought that counts.”
Marcy smiled while she ripped off the paper. “We never had big Christmases,” she said. “I think my parents had money, but my dad didn’t believe in a lot of presents.”
Wyatt thought of the boxes and bags he’d loaded into the house up in the Ranches. She was definitely going to get a big Christmas this year. He hadn’t gone back to work at Bowman’s Breeds in the month since he’d been home, and he’d basically spent his time shopping for Marcy.
She squealed as the box became visible. “It’s one of those Kurigs!” She danced around the box. “Thank you, Wyatt. Thank you so much.”
“There’s another one in your hangar,” he said. “Then you can have coffee or tea or hot chocolate any time you want.”
She looked at him, her smile so beautiful. “When did you have time to take a present to the hangar?”
“Last night,” he said. “I may have taken a few things up to the house too.”
She laughed, her blonde hair spilling down her back. “I can’t wait to see everything.”
“It’s a big Christmas,” he said. “I don’t really believe in small holidays.”
“You don’t believe in small anything.”
“Nope.” He drew in a deep breath and added, “And not to ruin Christmas, but I think I need to go to the doctor once the New Year hits.” He lifted his right shoulder, feeling something pull in his lower back. “There’s something not right with my back.”
As he suspected, concern and worry crossed Marcy’s face, and she came closer to him. “Are you okay right now?”
“I need some pills already,” he admitted.
“I’ll get them.” She headed into the kitchen, and Wyatt let her go. He liked her taking care of him, and he enjoyed their morning together, with coffee and pumpkin bread she’d bought at the bakery a week ago just to make French toast out of on Christmas morning.
With both of them showered and ready, he drove them up to the Ranches, his eye picking out every new detail since the last time they’d come. “That lot next to ours sold,” he said, nodding toward the sign.
“Our roof is on,” Marcy said. “And look at all that cement.”
They came every week to look at the house, talk to the builder, and dream. It was the dreaming Wyatt liked best, as he’d always had a mind that took him into the stratosphere. He’d spent a lot of his life reaching for those dreams, and he’d gotten them too.
But the best thing of all was being married to a good woman and spoiling her rotten, so he really liked watching her open the gifts he’d left for her inside the house. The fireplace was in at least, and he’d piled all the bags and packages there.
“You should’ve told me,” she said. “I would’ve gotten you more.”
“I don’t need more,” he said.
“Neither do I.” She paused, her eyes widening. “Wyatt, did you get me all of this because you think I need more?” She gestured to the soft pillows and downy throws he’d bought her. The necklace and the earrings and the new walking shoes she’d admired a couple of weeks ago when they’d gone to the mall together.
“No,” he said simply.
“Are you sure?” She didn’t move to open another gift. “Because I don’t need more, Wyatt. I really don’t.”
“I got them, because I like watching you open them,” he said. “And seeing you smile. And knowing that you’re happy.” He nodded to the last bag. “I think you’re going to like that one.”
She smiled as she reached into the bag and took out the red and green tissue paper. She pulled out the gift, a gasp filling her throat. “Wyatt.” She left the professional video camera that would mount to her airplane on the hearth and melted into his arms. “I love you.” She kissed him, and this was no sweet Christmas morning kiss.
“There’s no bed here, sweetheart,” he said.
“Doesn’t matter,” she murmured against his lips before claiming them again. Wyatt sure did like kissing her—or rather, being kissed by her.
“We’ll be late for dinner,” he said.
“Skyler will be later.”
Wyatt couldn’t argue with that, and he kept on kissing his wife.
They were late by the time they showed up at Seven Sons. Even Skyler had beaten them, and he had the same woman with him that he’d brought to Thanksgiving at Momma’s.
“Hey, Momma,” Wyatt said, giving her a hug first. After he’d gotten home, he’d tried to go to lunch with her and Marcy, quickly realizing the two women needed that time alone together. He couldn’t say he wasn’t jealous, but he was working on it, the same way Marcy was working on figuring out how to share him with America.
His western wear line had done really well for the holidays, and more than one article about the true meaning behind his hat waving had been published. Wyatt didn’t regret revealing what that gesture had really meant, because he believed it was good to spread more love and more gratitude throughout the world.
The house smelled like sugar and salt, chocolate and coffee, and Wyatt smiled at Jeremiah before giving him a big hug too. “Thank you for cooking for all of us.”
“Keeps me relevant,” Jeremiah said with a smile. “And you barely made it.” He lifted his eyebrows as if he knew Wyatt and Marcy had been late because they’d been making love in their new home.
“Slept late,” Wyatt said. “My back’s been bothering me again.”
That got Jeremiah’s eyebrows to go down, and he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. What are you going to do?”
“About what?” Tripp asked, joining them.
Wyatt took his baby boy from him and said, “I’ll go to the doctor in January.”
“What’s going on?” Tripp looked from Jeremiah to Wyatt.
“His back hurts.”
“Just a little,” Wyatt amended.
“Are we ready?” Rhett called.
A baby cried somewhere, and Jeremiah turned and searched the house. Other people talked, and laughed, with Oliver chasing Denise as she squealed and ran toward the front office.
Wyatt watched the craziness, and his heart felt like July—warm and sunny and bright. He loved his family. He loved how Marcy had seamlessly integrated herself into the group, and she stood over by the back door with Jeremiah’s dogs, Evelyn, Callie, and Simone. They smiled and laughed about something, and Marcy tucked her hair behind her ear.
Mal, Skyler’s girlfriend, stepped over to their group, and they immediately made room for her.
Skyler sat on the couch with Daddy, and Wyatt stepped that way. If they weren’t going to be eating for a while, he might as well sit down. He’d just sat when Jeremiah said, “Okay, we’re ready. Let me grab Whitney, and we’ll get started.”
He hurried down the hall, returning a moment later with his wife and son. He nodded to Rhett, who got up on the chair as if his voice wouldn’t be loud enough to be heard. “We always do announcements at Christmastime. If you have an announcement you want to make, you just step up and say it.”
“Do we have to stand on the chair?” Liam asked, grinning at Rhett.
“No,” he said, laughing. “And I don’t have any announcements, so I’m gonna get on down from here.”
Wyatt knew the announcements were generally good news, but he wondered if he should tell everyone about his back. He could sure use their prayers. So he cleared his throat, somewhat surprised the noise hadn’t ratcheted right back up once Rhett had gotten off the chair.
“My back hurts again,” he said. “If you have some extra time during your prayers, I’d appreciate them.”
“Oh, Wyatt,” Momma said, coming over and giving him a hug.
“I’m fine,” he said. “I am. I don’t need to be babied.”
“I wasn’t babying you.” She swatted his chest, and Wyatt smiled down at her, and then shot a grin to Marcy too.
Jeremiah raised his hand and looked at Wh
itney. “We’re pregnant again.”
Cheers and “Congratulations!” lifted into the air, and Wyatt loved that his family was expanding.
No one else stepped forward, and Wyatt wished Micah had some news of him and Simone. But they weren’t even standing next to each other, and he made a mental note to add the two of them to his prayers.
“That’s it?” Rhett asked, pausing. “Okay.” He looked at Jeremiah. “We’ll let—”
“I have something,” Skyler said, standing up from where he’d been sitting on the couch with Daddy and Wyatt. He cut a look to Mal, who came to his side, and then he looked at Momma. He swallowed and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Mal and I are married.” He cleared his throat. “She’s my wife.”
No one moved, and Wyatt assumed they were experiencing the same numbing shock that he was.
“What?” Momma finally asked, the word made mostly of air.
Mal took Skyler’s hand, and they looked at each other. A certain level of anxiety streamed from them, but she smiled, and that softened Skyler instantly.
Ah, so he definitely liked this woman.
Neither of them said anything, which was so like Skyler. He’d said it once; he didn’t need to say Mal was his wife again.
His wife.
Married without anyone in the family there to see it.
The calm before the storm passed, and then everyone started talking at once.
Wyatt couldn’t help laughing, because he knew that Skyler had just been the sixth brother to enter into a fake marriage, and he couldn’t wait to find out why.
Marcy joined him on the couch. “Why are you laughing? Your mother is crying.”
He put his arm around her and put his lips right next to her ear. “Just because we got married in front of a crowd with Momma in the front row doesn’t mean it was real—at first. Remember? That’s what’s going on here. It’s not real.”
“You don’t think?”
Wyatt looked at Skyler, who smiled at Daddy, who shook his hand. Wyatt had had twenty years of experience in front of crowds, faking his way through pain, exhaustion, and annoyance with a smile on his face.
And Skyler could use a few lessons, because Wyatt could see his nerves.
“But hey,” he said to Marcy while Tripp and Liam approached Skyler and Mal. “It turned out well for us, right? Maybe he and Mal will make it work.”
“Your other brothers have done it too,” Marcy whispered. “Right?”
“Right,” Wyatt said, pressing a kiss to her temple. “It’ll be a good story, though. I can’t wait to talk to Skyler.” But he wasn’t going to do it here, not with Jeremiah trying to get in there and say congratulations.
“I do love you, Wyatt,” Marcy said, as if he needed to be reassured right then. “We’re not pretending anymore.”
He looked at her. “I know, sugar. I love you too.” He kissed her quickly and scooted to the edge of the couch to get up. “Now I’m going to go see when I can take my brother to lunch so I can find out what’s going on.”
As he waited his turn to grab Skyler in a hug and tell him how happy for him he was, he took a moment to send a prayer of thanks to the Lord that he and Marcy had graduated from pretend to absolutely real in their relationship.
Keep reading to find out if another Walker brother can get his happily-ever-after in Three Rivers! Can Skyler really settle down with Mal? Or will this fake marriage turn into disaster? Chapter one and two of SKYLER’S WANNA-BE WIFE are next! Keep reading!
I just love Wyatt and his cowboy hat waving, and that he and Marcy were able to make this year one of their best. If you liked this book, please leave a review now.
Thank you.
I love you.
Join Liz’s newsletter for deals, sneak peeks, and more.
Sneak Peek! Skyler’s Wanna-Be Wife Chapter One
Mallery Viera woke the morning after Christmas, the fact that she had a live, breathing man in bed with her still foreign and strange.
Number one, she and Skyler didn’t sleep in the same room in his huge, posh, luxury apartment in Amarillo.
Number two, her feelings for Skyler had her wanting to slide closer to him under the sheets and go back to sleep within the warm safety of his arms.
And that absolutely couldn’t happen.
He was doing her a favor, that scorching kiss in her kitchen from weeks ago notwithstanding.
She wasn’t going to make a bigger fool of herself.
She and Skyler weren’t supposed to be in Three Rivers, but after his announcement at lunch yesterday, they hadn’t been able to leave.
His momma was a Southern giant through and through, and Skyler hadn’t been able to deny his mother the opportunity to take them to breakfast and “get to know Mal.”
Mal had held Penny’s gaze, but she’d probably have wilted had Skyler not warned her about the intensity his momma possessed.
And Mal was certain all of their secrets would be exposed at breakfast. Penny was like an FBI agent, and there were as many words spoken in the times of silence as there was when she was speaking.
On the other side of the bed, Skyler shifted, a groan coming out of his mouth. He lifted his head, and their eyes met.
Pure anxiety flashed inside her, but she managed to smile.
“This bed is terrible,” he complained.
“It’s not great,” she agreed. Everything Skyler owned was the finest and most expensive. He hadn’t told her how he’d come to be so wealthy without a college degree and within the first thirty-five years of his life.
She hadn’t asked.
But the evidence of his money was everywhere, from the huge, brand-new pickup truck he drove to the four-bedroom apartment on the top floor of a downtown high-rise in Amarillo.
Mal hadn’t stepped over such luxurious carpet in all her life. And her bed was like sleeping on clouds and cotton candy and the exhalations of unicorns.
The first couple of nights had been hard for her, but she had a door that locked. She wasn’t truly afraid of Skyler. She just couldn’t believe the situation she’d gotten herself into.
“So,” he said. “What did you think of my parents?”
Mal found the conversation while they lay in bed intimate and sweet. Living with Skyler had been quite different than running with him or being friends with him or laughing while he tried to fold his body into yoga positions while she taught.
He was more reserved. Serious in a way she’d never seen from him before. He seemed to have two sides—the public Skyler he wanted others to see.
And the real Skyler, who didn’t really know who he was. The real Skyler didn’t show himself to very many people, but Mal had seen him, especially around his family.
“I actually liked them,” she said. “And you weren’t kidding when you said your brothers are loud.”
He smiled at her and propped his head on his hand. Did he find it odd they were lying in the same bed? Just because they had a piece of paper that said they were married didn’t mean they really were.
They’d kissed the one time in her kitchen, and then a quick peck four days later when they’d met at the courthouse for their wedding.
“Yeah, we’re all loud,” he said with a smile. The same smile she’d seen him flash to others during parties, lunches, or other social occasions. “You have to be when you’re growing up with six brothers. If you weren’t loud, you didn’t eat.”
Mal giggled and looked up at the ceiling. “Do you think we’ll go back to Amarillo today?”
She was very careful not to say home. She wasn’t even sure where her home was right now. She needed to get her courage up though, and she needed to start thinking and acting like Skyler’s wife.
Her hearing with an immigration judge was only sixteen days away now, and she’d need to be convincing enough to get an extension on her green card.
Skyler had dived into the issue, and he told her some new fact he’d read that day almost everyday. He’d said
that the judge would likely set another hearing in the future until the immigration agents could determine whether or not their marriage was real.
“It’s usually a year,” he’d said.
“But I can’t work,” she’d said.
“You don’t need to work,” he said. “I have plenty of money.” And that was the closest he’d come to saying anything about the finances.
Mal didn’t know what to do with herself if she didn’t have school and work. She’d petitioned the judge to be able to continue her classes and her jobs, but she wouldn’t know until the hearing happened.
She was slowly going insane, she knew that.
“We have no clothes,” Skyler said. “So yes, I’ll tell Momma we’re going home today.”
Mal didn’t mind sleeping in her clothes—in fact, she slept in her clothes every night. Skyler had borrowed a pair of basketball shorts from his brother, Micah, and a T-shirt with a horseshoe printed on it.
He was as sexy as ever, and Mal rolled away from him and sat up, hoping he hadn’t been able to see her attraction to him.
She wasn’t sure why she was trying to hide it. He’d been the one to kiss her, as she reflected on every day. Every single day.
He’d said he wanted to kiss her again, the one and only time they’d talked about the episode, only minutes after it had happened. But he hadn’t.
She hadn’t known how to bring it up. How to put her hand in his. How to cuddle into him on the couch while they watched movies and studied and went running.
Their lives had simply gone on, but she was now on his lease, and she’d filed all kinds of papers to get her new name on all her legal documents.
“Mal,” Skyler said, his voice that quiet, contemplative one she’d only heard a few times now. This was the real Skyler Walker talking, and she wanted to hear what he had to say.
“Yeah?”
“Would you go out with me tonight?”
For some reason, his vulnerable question struck her as funny. She tried to hold back her laughter, but that only made it burst from her mouth in more of an explosion.
