Picture Perfect Marriage

by Marquita Valentine

  “And you’re back to shutting her out, too.”

  “So? It’s what she wants.” I rest my hands on my hips for a minute, then take off my gloves and grab my Yeti cup. I drink down the still cold-as-winter water. “If you’re here to give me advice, I’m going to be upfront and tell you to shove it.”

  “Not here for that.” He sits on a log that’s set on its end. “Thought I’d come by and invite you to dinner with Eden and me.”

  “Quinn invited to this?”

  Barron makes a face. “Yeah, right. She doesn’t like Eden.”

  “I thought you ordered her to be nice.”

  My best friend barks out a laugh. “Have you ever seen any of us Kings take kindly to being ordered around?”

  “Yeah, I forgot how well y’all live up to your last name.” I scratch the side of my jaw. “Remind me why you decided to become a public servant instead of a corporate lawyer?”

  “I can be both, asswipe.” His gaze bounces around the yard. “You’ve been a busy.”

  “Trying to decide if I should sell the place or not,” I admit. “I had hoped that Quinn would want to live here instead of that damned monstrosity she calls home.”

  “Have you asked her?”

  No. That’s the sensible thing to do, and we apparently don’t do sensible. “Not yet.” I squint at the road, wishing like hell her Mustang would drive by. I know she got it back because I saw it parked at the salon the other day. “Maybe not ever. Maybe I should take Quinn’s order to leave her the hell alone to heart this time.”

  “You left her alone the last time,” Barron points out. “You never struck me as an idiot, but doing it twice would be pretty fucking idiotic.”

  “What’s fucking idiotic is to let your sister stomp on my balls every time things don’t go her way.”

  Barron narrows his eyes. “Is that what you really think she did to you?”

  “Yes. No. Fuck if I know.” I tug on the bill of my ball cap. “Right now, I can’t think straight, much less think clearly, about her. I’m pissed off, Barron, but I am still here. I didn’t leave the town, much less the state, this time.”

  “Congratulations. You’re being a husband. Want me to give you a key to the town?”

  “Fuck you, King.”

  “No, fuck you, Prescott,” Barron growls, jumping to his feet to shove his fingers in my chest. “Fuck you.” He shakes his head. “One of the reasons I never got pissed off about you and Quinn was because I knew you were a stand-up guy, that you weren’t afraid to share your feelings, and that your aunts were good people who taught you how to treat women right. You know, the trifecta of boyfriend material for a guy’s sister. Well, mine at least, because that’s what she needs. You know Quinn hides her feelings. She uses sarcasm and humor like weapons and a wall. You’re the only guy she’s ever let in.”

  “I’m sorry to have disappointed you,” I say tightly, shoving his hand away. “But I’m not the only one who’s wrong.”

  “Does it matter in the grand scheme of things? Are you willing to die on that to the detriment of your marriage? The Tate I know wouldn’t. The Tate I know came back to Castle Beach to repair things with his wife, not force her to act according to his standards when she’s overwhelmed.”

  My anger dies away by slow degrees. In its place, sorrow and regret grow. “Maybe I should have stuck around at the roast, but I didn’t want to cause a scene. Your mother had enough to deal with, since Deacon decided to act the fool.”

  “Look, I’m not saying you shouldn’t have left the situation so that cooler heads could prevail, but you weren’t there for the aftermath. I was. Your wife, my sister, could barely form coherent sentences because she was crying so hard. She never came back to the party. Seems like to me, that’s not a woman who meant what she said in the heat of the moment.”

  I exhale. “The last thing I want to do is hurt Quinn.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “But I’m not going to be the one who bends this time. While it might be wrong or stubborn, I need her to be the one to throw it all away for us. To put herself out there without the certainty I’ll say yes.”

  Barron holds up his hands. “I get it. Just don’t stay as closed off as you accuse her of being toward you.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Suddenly a grin transforms his face, the mischievous expression making him look ten years younger. “Remember that time your aunts caught us sneaking in after curfew?”

  “How could I forget? They made us chop wood and redo all the flowers beds the next day instead of going surfing with those two girls we met in Royal Bay.” I smile fondly at the memory. Funny thing is I don’t think I would have gotten in trouble had I not given my word to be home at a certain time. While the aunts weren’t big on rules, they were big on being a man or woman of your word.

  “I was never late again, not even for my parents.” Barron flexes his fingers. “I had blisters on top of blisters.”

  “That’s because you were too manly to wear gloves.”

  “So were you.”

  “We were dumb.”

  “We were seniors in high school.” He strokes his jaw. “ I seem to recall that Quinn ended up helping us with the flower beds.”

  “I recall she got into some poison ivy and had huge blisters on her hands, too.” I suck in air. “She looked pitiful the next day.”

  Barron cocks a brow. “I hope to God you’re not going to end this by saying you rubbed lotion on her and that’s when you fell in love or some shit. She was only fourteen.”

  “Yeah, that didn’t happen at all. Besides, I didn’t start to think of your sister like for another ten years or so.”

  He whistles. “That long?”

  “She was always like a sister to me. Until one day... she suddenly wasn’t. I felt like I’d been hit by Thor’s hammer.”

  “That bad, huh?” Barron grins, then motions for me to continue.

  “It wasn’t anything big, yet it was something I’ll never forget. I was riding high on my biggest box office opening yet. Pretty much the film that solidified me as a leading man—that would give me the funds to leave it all behind for directing.

  “I’d come back to Castle Beach to see my aunts, and Quinn came over. I was strutting around, acting like some big-talking man, when she called me out on it. Told me that the second movie I starred in—the one that earned the least amount of money—was actually my best performance, and everything else had all been downhill from there.”

  “She said that? Wait a minute, of course she said that to you.”

  I take another gulp of water from my cup. “That’s when I fell in love with her. She wasn’t afraid to tell me I sucked, or that I was getting too big for my britches. For a long time, women didn’t tell me shit like that. They pretended to adore me, but I knew the woman who wasn’t afraid to tell me like it was had to care about me on a level that didn’t exist in any of my previous relationships.”

  “And that’s how you stole Quinn away from surfer-dude Paul. He was so torn up about it.”

  “I didn’t steal her. She broke up with him, and we were exclusive from that point on.”

  “You were secretive from that point on, too. Three years is a long time to keep dating someone in private.”

  I shrug. “Not if it’s the only way you can protect them from the onslaught of social media hate. Sure, people said some shit, but since I’m from here and it was widely known that we, all of us, grew up together, no one suspected anything. But let me tell you, it was a real pain in the ass when I was linked up with another woman, or when some guy was interested in Quinn and she felt like she had to have a good reason for turning them down—well, at least for the nice guys, she’d felt that way.”

  “And you want to throw all of that hard work and sacrifice away because of your ego?”

  “No, she threw that away the moment she told me to leave her the hell alone,” I counter, my frustration rising to the boiling point again. �
��I feel like we’re talking in circles.”

  “You’re so stupid, Tate. I can’t believe we were in the same AP classes back in high school. She meant for right then, not permanently.” He shakes his head in disgust. “I hope to hell you rethink your plan, whatever it is, and work things out with Quinn. Because this time, if you two divorce, you won’t only lose a wife, but also a best friend.”

  His hard eyes focus on me. “By the way, you should really check social media more often. There’s a viral video of you and Quinn on the boardwalk carrying on.”

  “There is?” Damn it. I’ll have to get my publicist to do some damage control if rumors get started about us.

  “Yeah, that’s what motivated me to come talk to you, without clearing it with Quinn first.” He pauses by his truck. “I thought any man who looked at a woman like that had to be in love with her enough that he’d be capable of being reasoned with. Too damn bad I was wrong.”

  “First time for everything.”

  Barron flips me off. “Why don’t you prove me right, asshole?”

  Chapter 23

  Quinn

  It’s been three days since Tate last stormed out of the oyster roast. Three days since I’ve spoken to, much less exchanged texts, with him, and I’m about to lose my dang mind.

  I’m not sure how exactly to go about winning him back unless I do something radical. But I do have an idea, a crazy plan, that might show my husband how much I want to make our marriage work.

  Well, if he doesn’t find the old copy of the divorce papers I sent him and sign them, then have them delivered to me first.

  I make a face, then proceed to gulp down some wine.

  No matter because unlike before, I’m not going to wait for Tate to come back to me. I’m going to fight for him... and all I need is my sister-in-law’s help.

  I slide up to her while she’s busy cooking dinner. Knight keeps Hazel entertained by building a sandcastle on the beach.

  “So, Campbellicious. I need a favor.”

  “You can’t have Hazel until Knight says so. He’s missed her.”

  I wave a hand in the air. “Yeah, yeah, father-daughter time is totally important. But that’s not the favor I need.”

  She pauses mid-stir of the pot of sauce she’s made to glance up at me. “You’ve piqued my curiosity.”

  “I need you to throw a party for Knight—a coming-home party—and invite Tate.”

  “Just Tate or can we invite other people, too?”

  Her teasing makes me growl.” You can invite the entire dang town if you want, but Tate has to be there and I have to make a toast.”

  She smiles. “I’d planned on throwing one once things settled down, anyway. Maybe next month.”

  “I can’t wait that long,” I screech.

  “Why not?”

  “Because he could leave before then, and I can’t... I just can’t. Okay?”

  “Is there something going on with you two?”

  I slap my hand against my forehead. “Of course there is. We’ve been together for years.”

  She gives me an odd look. “I thought you said he wasn’t your ex-boyfriend.”

  I gulp. “That’s because we’ve never broken up... and he’s actually my husband.”

  Campbell’s mouth drops open, and she stares at me with the most shocked expression I’ve ever seen. “What?”

  “Tate Prescott is my husband. We were married the weekend Laird went missing. I went mad with grief and guilt... I thought it was my fault he disappeared because I went away for the weekend with Tate instead of going out on the boat with my brother.” I smile sadly, the pain of losing Laird scraping at me, but at least it’s duller now. “I ended up pushing Tate away, but then became unreasonably mad at him for listening to me when I ordered him to leave,”

  “You. Unreasonable. That’s ridiculous,” she scoffs.

  Without missing a beat, I play along. “I know, right? Anyway, he came back to save our marriage. I thought everything was going okay, but then the whole thing with Deacon and his speech about the entire family not being there...” I deflate, although my guilt isn’t entirely the reason for it this time. “I closed myself off to him again. Basically, he didn’t wait for me to kick him out of my life this time. He just left.”

  “Oh, Quinn. I’m so sorry, honey.” Campbell gives me a quick hug. “We can have the party this weekend, for sure. Do you want to have it here?”

  I nod. “If you don’t mind.”

  “Knight might, but I have very good powers of persuasion at my disposal.” She winks, her brown eyes shining with love for my brother.

  “I think I’m going to hurl.” I pretend to gag before taking another sip of wine. “I’m going to put everything on the line for him, Cam.”

  “Everything?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to free myself from Castle Beach.”

  “Care to share what that means?”

  “I’m selling Roxi the salon, and I’ve met with a real estate agent about putting my house up for sale.”

  “Wow.” Campbell shakes her head. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Very. Besides, I only bought the house to piss him off.” So I could show him that I could get on with my life without his approval or presence. I was such an idiot. “I’m tired of running from a future with my husband, a future away from here.”

  “Whatever you need, Quinn, consider it done,” Campbell replies, but then her eyes tear up. “Besides, you were the one who was responsible for me coming to my senses. It’s the least I can do to return the favor.”

  “I didn’t do it so you’d owe me,” I protest.

  She lays a hand on my arm. “I know you didn’t. It’s just your nature to help, and that’s why I’m thrilled to be able to help you. You and Knight are a lot alike.”

  “Duh. Twins.”

  She grins, bumping me with her hip. “You know what I mean.”

  Smiling, I grab my phone. “I’ll make a list of things we need for the party.”

  ***

  My heart is beating a million miles a minute as I help Campbell with the finishing touches of the party. Okay, so she’s helping me because I couldn’t allow her to do all the work.

  This morning, Campbell confided in me that she’s pregnant and dealing with morning sickness—something that delights me to no end as an auntie. The pregnancy is delightful, not the morning sickness, which is reason number five billion I make a better auntie than a mother. And I get to give cranky nieces back to their parents when they get too fussy even for my magic hands. Either way, if Tate and I decide to have kids, it will be much, much later on in our marriage.

  I hold Hazel-boo on my hip as I walk around surveying my handiwork. She’s tugging on my hair as she chews on the amber-teething beads her daddy got her.

  “I don’t think there’s anything else to do, Q, but wait for everyone to arrive.”

  “Are you sure he’s coming?”

  She shrugs, trying for my sake to keep things light. “He texted Knight that he was.”

  “And are you sure Knight is okay with this?”

  Knight chooses that exact moment to walk outside. Hazel goes nuts for her daddy, almost jumping out of my arms to get to him. I suppose I can’t blame her. If I could have my dad back, even if for only ten minutes, I’d do everything in my power to get to him, too.

  “That’s my girl,” Knight says as he takes her from me. She rests her little head on his chest, perfectly content in his arms. “You’re my sister, my twin, and I love you dearly, but if you ever plan a party and get my wife to do things in order for me to agree...” A smile breaks out on his face. “You’d better let me in on it first so I can get more creative next time.”

  “My ears. My ears.” I cover them, think better of it, then reach instead to cover Hazel’s, glaring at my twin accusingly. “She is too young to hear this. Let’s face it, no matter how decrepit you two get, she will always be too young.”

  Campbell giggles.

  Knight
winks.

  I roll my eyes in frustration, but a smile follows it up a beat later. “Swear you won’t laugh at me.”

  Knight grows serious. “I swear I’ll help you as much as you helped Cam and me.”

  I hug my brother, almost crushing Hazel in the process, but she doesn’t seem to mind and I don’t want to let go.

  “Even if I didn’t need to save my marriage, I’m so glad we’re able to throw you this party, Knight.” I bite the side of my lip, sniffing and holding back my tears. “For a long time, I didn’t think you were ever coming back.”

  “Me either, honey.” After he kisses my forehead, he gazes at his wife. “She changed everything for me.” Then he kisses Hazel. “And so did this bundle of girlie fluff. I hope we have nothing but girls.”

  Campbell blushes. “A boy wouldn’t be so bad either.”

  “Whatever our baby is, he or she will be loved.”

  For once, I don’t pretend to gag or make a smart remark, because that’s exactly the kind of conversation I hope to have with Tate in the years to come.

  Chapter 24

  Tate

  I’m equal parts furious and excited to see Quinn today at Knight’s coming-home party. Actually, I’m mostly furious because once again, I’m coming to her instead of the other way around.

  I guess our time in Los Angeles was simply a fluke because she hasn’t bothered to contact me in almost six days. A day short of a week. Three weeks short of a month. Eleven and three quarters of a month short of a year.

  A frown tugs at my mouth, and I have to force it back to a smile. There is no reason for me to ruin what I know to be an incredibly special occasion.

  Knight’s return home is remarkable in more ways than one. He’s been deployed more times than I can count. The fact he plans to live in the one place he couldn’t leave fast enough has given me hope.

  Hope for the future.

  Hope for my marriage to Quinn.

  Except I have no hope in her now. She’s effectively taken it away from me and—

  “Hi,” Quinn calls as she walks to me. Her hair is quite unexpectedly her natural color of light brown, shot through with highlights of gold that gleam in the sun. My beautiful girl of summer. “I’m glad you came.”