I looked into her beautiful blue eyes. There was so much I wanted to tell her. Like how I’d never gone a day without missing her or regretting how I left her. Or how seeing her again tied me up inside with longing. It was crazy how much I wanted her, considering all the time that had passed. But being in front of her, talking to her, it was like it had been ten years ago. Intense.
Understanding that our biggest hurdle was how I’d left her, I decided my best move would be to assure her. “I’m not going anywhere, Sinclair.”
10
Sinclair
I was in trouble. A trouble I couldn’t, or to be honest, didn’t want to avoid, even though I knew I’d regret it. I drank the whiskey, feeling the burn down my throat and the soft, floaty feeling in my head.
I started to see the benefits to this crazy marriage idea. Or I talked myself into seeing them because deep down, that eighteen-year-old girl was still longing for the promises Wyatt had made. And now it was in front of me again. Or maybe not again. I wasn’t sure Wyatt ever really loved me, at least not like I loved him. Maybe his words that summer had been just that; words. Empty promises. After all, if he loved me, he wouldn’t have left. He’d have at the very least made contact with me.
But even if he’d meant every word he said that summer, ten years later, sitting in a bar discussing marriage wasn’t like when we talked about it under the oak tree. Today, it was a business deal to save his and other farms in Salvation, not an act of love.
But even beyond the merits of the plan, there was a bigger hurdle to consider: Alyssa.
“How do you see this fake marriage working logistically?” I asked despite the fact that I knew I couldn’t go along with this idea.
He shrugged. “You could move into the farm with me while we battle Stark.”
“With you and your mother?”
His cheeks flushed as if he was embarrassed to live with his mother. “She won’t be in the way. Or maybe she could move into the grandparent apartment. It’s where my grandparents lived when my father took over the farm.”
I had to hand it to Wyatt. While he’d left us all without a look back, now that he was back, he seemed to be taking his role as a Jones seriously. He was working to follow the tradition set by his forefathers over a hundred years ago. It occurred to me that this tradition belonged to Alyssa too. As his daughter, the farm would go to her some day. That was if I ever told him about her. Or maybe he’d marry someone else and have the brood of children we’d talked about.
The idea of that burned my gut more than the whisky. I hated the idea of him touching another woman, much less marrying one, which was idiotic considering all that had happened and all the time we’d been apart.
In the end, I couldn’t go for the fake marriage, not so much because it was crazy or because I could get hurt. If it was just me, I might have considered it. But I couldn't do it because of Alyssa. She and I were a package deal. I couldn’t do this and leave her with my parents. People in town would expect her to be with me and my new husband. A potential husband who still didn’t know she existed, much less that she was his.
“We’ll make sure everyone knows you’re now a Jones and how we’re organizing farmers and community members in protest. We’ll let the press know. It won’t look good for Stark to take the home of newlyweds.” He continued his explanation of how the fake marriage would work.
I reached for the bottle, pouring another shot, knowing it was too much. The more he talked, the more this idea made sense, which was all the more reason to stop drinking. Still, he was correct that I’d be able to outwardly fight for the farmers instead of holding to the mayor’s stance to stay neutral. And it could help in my bid to run for mayor when my time came.
But if it went wrong…if I fell for him again and he didn’t feel the same…if we lost against Stark and he blamed me…if he left again...I didn’t know how I’d survive that.
At the same time, this was a way to put my money where my mouth was. Was I willing to do anything to save Salvation, including marry the man who broke my heart? And maybe it would give me the time and insight into him I needed to let him know about Alyssa. To discover the type of father he’d be.
Before I could drink my next glass, Wyatt took it from me. “You shouldn’t have to get wasted to talk yourself into marrying me.” He stood and reached out his hand to me. “Let me take you home.”
I knew I couldn’t drive, but I didn’t want Wyatt to be the one to drive me home. As it turned out, I still lived with my parents too, but that was in the process of changing now that I’d paid my student loans and saved for a down payment on a house for me and Alyssa. But more than not wanting him to know I still lived at home was that I didn’t want him to get wind of Alyssa. Even as I thought that, I felt like a horrible person.
“I’ll get a ride from Trina,” I said, trying to pull my hand away from his because his touch sent electric sparks through my body.
Annoyance flashed in his eyes. “She’s still drinking! Please, Sinclair. Let me do this.”
It was those green eyes that finally did me in. The way he’d look at me like I was the only woman in the world. Between that and however much I’d had to drink, I couldn’t refuse.
“Okay.” God, I hoped my parents or Alyssa didn’t see him drop me off.
He smiled like I’d given him a gift. As we walked out, he tossed money on the bar.
“Heading out?” my brother asked, looking at Wyatt and then me.
“He’s taking me home,” I said, letting Ryder know I was okay with this.
“Do I hear wedding bells in the near future?” Trina asked.
“No bells,” I replied as I walked by.
Wyatt escorted me to the ancient truck. “It’s older than dirt, but it’s clean and well-kept.”
He helped me in and then went to the driver's side. Once in, he started the truck and we headed out toward my parents’ house.
“Your parents still good?” he asked.
“Yep.” I looked over at his profile. “I’m sorry about your parents-”
“Don’t be.” His voice was clipped, making me flinch. He turned to me. “Sorry. It’s for the best.”
I wanted to ask him about that, but didn’t want to put him in a bad mood. I rolled down the window, and with a nice soft buzz from booze, the warm evening summer breeze blowing in the window, and the scent of Wyatt all around, I was quite content.
I replayed my conversation with Wyatt in my head. He hadn’t been someone who’d take to such crazy tactics to get what he wanted before, but of course, there was more on the line now. His farm. His livelihood. His legacy. He’d been gone ten years without a thought, but apparently, now these things were important enough that he’d marry to save them. He’d even hired a lawyer.
Thinking of Jeannette and how she, a senior, dated Wyatt as a sophomore made jealousy flare deep in my gut.
“Was Jeanette your first?” That was the problem with alcohol. Sometimes it had you speaking out loud what you wanted to keep in your head as a thought.
He looked at me with a smirk. “Do you really want to know?”
“No. Yes.”
He remained quiet. Finally, he said, “I didn’t love her. Not like you.”
My insides went all gooey. Again, I blamed the alcohol because it wasn’t safe to go soft on Wyatt.
“Not that I used her. She and I had some fun times-”
“I bet you did.”
He laughed. “Out of the sack too. But you, Sinclair, you were different.”
I smiled. I was sure I looked like a lovesick loon. Tomorrow when I’m sober, I’ll probably be embarrassed.
“Who was your first?” he asked with a quick glance at me again before watching the road.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Surely, he already did.
“That’s why I asked.”
I didn’t say anything. Jeez, I was a silly girl again playing coy.
“I like to think it was me,” he said.
&n
bsp; “Why?” I asked.
He shrugged. “It’s a macho guy thing, probably. It was different with you. Not just the sex. Everything…” He broke off as if he realized he was heading into a conversation that he didn’t want to have. A talk about the promises he’d made and then broke.
He turned into the long drive at my parents’ house.
“You can let me off here,” I said.
He kept driving on the gravel road past the house and out toward the river. He parked and then got out of the truck. He came over to my side and helped me out. Without a word, he took my hand and we walked across the field toward the river until we came to the oak tree where he’d taken my virginity. Where he’d given me Alyssa.
I hadn’t been here since he left. It was a reminder of all I’d lost. All he’d taken from me. But standing here with him now, I didn’t feel bitterness. Just sadness.
I looked up at him, to find him staring down at me. “Why are we here?”
He shrugged. “It was our place. I’m taking a trip down memory lane.”
That seemed even more dangerous than letting my guard down through booze. “That was a long time ago.”
“Maybe, but I have good memories of you and me here. We used to talk a lot, remember?”
“I remember talking and other things.”
His lips twitched up. “Other things, yes.” He looked out over the river. “I felt close to you. Like I could talk to you about anything.” He turned back to me. “But there were some things I still never told you.”
With those words, I realized he was ready to talk. He was ready to tell me why he abandoned me.
11
Wyatt
I didn’t know what I was thinking bringing her here to the place I first made love to her. To the place I’d promised to spend a lifetime with her. One thing was certain, she wasn’t feeling the same way I was. Not that I blamed her. After all, I’d abandoned her. But as I approached her house while driving her home, it was like the tree called to me. Like there was a magic or power in this place that would help me reach her. Not to talk her into a fake marriage, but to convince her to give me a chance to make it right.
Not that a trip down memory lane would change her mind. No, if I had any chance to rekindle the flame, I’d have to open up to her in a way I never had before. In a way that I’d never dared to when we were younger.
I closed my eyes for a moment, remembering our times here. It wasn’t hard to conjure them, especially with her standing right there in front of me. It was the images of her and this place that kept me sane during wartime. I opened my eyes, looking up through the branches to see the moon shining through them. Yes, this place was magic. It was going to my head way more than whiskey did.
I looked at her, desperately wanting to touch her. To pull her in my arms and promise to never let her go. It was a silly notion. She was right. Ten years was a long time. I wasn’t the same. Neither was she. There was no going back to what we had, which was clearly what I wanted. And yet, the pull to her was still strong. More than I could resist.
She leaned back against the tree. “I never expected the two of us to be here again.”
“I never stopped thinking about our time here,” I admitted.
She cocked her head. “I wouldn’t know it by the way you never contacted me.”
I looked down in shame and guilt.
“Why was that? Not a word. No call. No email. Not to me or Ryder. Why?”
I swallowed, knowing I had to tell her the truth, yet finding it hard to bring back all the hard memories.
“I was pissed you didn’t come with me,” I admitted.
She scoffed. “Another sacrifice I wasn’t willing to make.”
I shook my head, realizing this was about to go off the rails worse than before.
“I was a young dumb kid. I realize now that I was a jerk to ask you to leave your life, your dreams. It was best you didn’t come. I joined the military and was shipped off to bootcamp and then off to the middle east. You’d have been alone anyway. But by the time I grew up enough to know that, it had been a while. I knew you’d be pissed too and probably moved on.”
“I did move on, Wyatt. I fulfilled all my goals except the one you stole from me.”
Jesus, she knew how to dig the proverbial knife into my heart. “I know. I regret that.”
“I don’t get why you had to leave then in the first place. It was like there was a fire in your ass. No warning. No planning. You just showed up at my window demanding I run off with you. What happened?”
I scraped my hands over my face as I readied to tell her what had happened. Not just that night, but the life I’d led that no one except Ryder knew about.
“My father liked to hit my mother. He was also a drunk, although he didn’t need to be drinking to decide my mother needed a beating. Or me for that matter.”
She gasped. “I knew you didn’t like your father but I didn’t realize he abused you.”
“When you grow up with it, you don’t like it, but you also don’t know any different. You get used to it, I guess. Eventually, when I got big enough to defend myself, my father left me alone except for telling me how worthless I was. My mother though, she was his regular punching bag and that night, I decided to put an end to it.”
“Wyatt.”
I turned toward the river, finding it difficult to tell her all this while looking at her. “I didn’t just intervene; I gave him the experience of what it was like to be beaten. To feel the shock of pain like a knife as a fist makes contact. I don’t regret it. But he was going to call the cops and have me arrested for assault.” I laughed derisively. “All the times he beat my mother and not once did he spend a night in jail. My mother gave up calling for help long ago. Worse, she’d make excuses for him. So, after I left him bloody and battered, hobbling to the phone to call for help, she got mad at me. I’d just protected her and I was in trouble for it. So, I said ‘fuck it’ and left.”
“Oh God, Wyatt.”
I shrugged and turned back to her. “I wasn’t going to jail for that asshole. I packed a bag and the only other thing I needed in life was you, so I came to get you. I expected you to come. I suppose I felt like you should have known I needed to leave, but how could you when I’d never told you?”
“I’m sorry.”
“What for? You didn’t know. That’s on me.” God, it tore me up how badly I fucked things up for us. The military had been good to me, but being with Sinclair would have been better. “I wanted to contact you.” I stepped toward her, wanting her to see the sincerity of my words in my eyes. “I thought about you every damn day. But once I was gone, it seemed like it would be best for everyone that I stayed gone.”
“You were wrong.”
I laughed. “I’m not surprised. I didn’t get much right then.”
“Why are you back now?” She didn’t sound mad. Or look mad. That had to be a good sign.
“About a year ago I was injured and the military contacted my mom. I hadn’t been in touch with her either, but I guess they thought she should know. She couldn’t come back east where I was taken when I was shipped stateside for medical treatment. My dad wouldn’t let her.” Fucker. “But she did write and I’d write back. Old school.”
She smiled warmly. It gave me the courage to keep going.
“Then six months ago, she said my dad had taken off with another woman. She’d hired two extra hands to manage the ranch so I didn’t think much about it. I figured they’d do a better job than my old man. But then about two months ago, she said the money was tight. As it happened, I was up for re-enlistment. I opted to retire to come home.”
“I’m sure she’s glad you’re here.”
But not you, I wanted to say. I held it back because I knew it was a pathetic statement. “I won’t lie, Sinclair, that a part of me is looking to rebuild what I lost, but I know that’s selfish of me. You have a life without me and I’m so fucking proud of you for that.”
She moved to m
e, pressing her hand on my chest. “I always got the feeling you felt unworthy, not just of me but of good things in general.”
She wasn’t wrong about that.
“But here you are. You’re home for your mother. You’re fighting Stark. You’re a good man, Wyatt. You always were.” She lifted up on her toes and pressed her lips against mine.
I didn’t know what she was intending, a light friendly peck or to start something more, but on my end, an inferno erupted. My lips remembered her taste and like memory yarn, my body responded automatically.
I banded an arm around her, tugging her close, hoping against hope she didn’t push me away. When she didn’t, I teased her lips with my tongue, begging for entrance into her sweet mouth. Her lips parted, and then I was there, my tongue dancing with hers. I was lost in her. The intoxication of her hot mouth and soft tongue made my head reel.
Her fingers gripped my t-shirt and she moaned, tilting her head and turning up the heat on the kiss.
I ran my hands up and down her waist, loving the soft curve of her body. I slipped my fingers under her shirt, finally touching her soft skin, running my hands along her sides, up her back.
“I want you, Sinclair. God help me, I have to have you.”
Her hands pushed my shirt up. I gripped the hem and yanked it off, tossing it aside. Her hands splayed over my chest.
“Touch me,” I moaned as her hands caressed me.
Our movements were frantic as our clothes were yanked off or pushed aside and I dragged her to the soft grass below the tree.
In the back of my head, a voice was telling me that this was probably a mistake. Another part of me was telling me to slow it down, take my time. But my libido was in a mad rush to be inside this woman. It was like my life depended on it.
Sitting on the grass, I pulled her over my thighs. I palmed her tits in my hands and then feasted on them one at a time. They were larger than before. In the dirty part of my mind, I had an image of fucking them. Another time maybe. This time, I wanted to give Sinclair the screaming orgasm of a lifetime.
Fake Marriage (Contemporary Romance Box Set) Page 7
