Jeremiah's Bogus Bride

by Liz Isaacson

  Rhett wasn’t giving up, and he knocked on the door. Jeremiah stepped away from it, and when Rhett opened the door, he could still hear the other brothers squabbling. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think it would delve into that.”

  Jeremiah took off his cowboy hat and hung it on the hook on the wall beside the bed. He didn’t know what to say. He took a moment to breathe, and then he turned back to Rhett. “I’ve always wanted to get married.”

  “I know that.”

  “I’m so lonely.”

  Pure compassion crossed Rhett’s face, and he hurried across the expansive master bedroom and drew Jeremiah into a tight, brotherly hug. Jeremiah clung to him too, glad he had this special bond with his older brother.

  They’d done everything together growing up, and Jeremiah had always looked to Rhett as an example. He loved his brother with his whole soul, though he could’ve done without the family meeting to discuss his broken heart.

  “Go with your heart,” Rhett said, his voice quiet and somewhat choked. “You’ll make the right decision.”

  “My history disagrees,” he said, stepping back from his brother. “In fact, I trust my heart the very least when it comes to making decisions.” The problem was, his head didn’t do a great job either. Everything felt so tangled.

  Rhett’s phone rang, and he looked down. “It’s Evelyn.”

  “Answer it.”

  He did, turning and moving toward the door. “Hey, baby,” he said. “Everything okay?” He left the room, and Jeremiah went to close the door again. He couldn’t let go of the idea of just going whole-hog and getting hitched.

  After all, three of his brothers had made a fake marriage into something wonderful and lasting.

  Maybe he could too.

  Chapter Eight

  Whitney celebrated her nephew getting his driver’s license, shot her seniors, and obsessed over what to do with her hair on Friday night—when Jeremiah would arrive to whisk her off to a romantic dinner. He hadn’t said where they were going earlier in the week, and Whitney had experimented with her hair down, curled just-so. She felt like she was going to church. So she’d pulled it up on top of her head and made the ponytail straight as a stick. But she felt too much like a cheerleader, and that wasn’t working for her.

  She’d bunned it and twirled it and sculpted it messily, but that all felt like she was trying too hard.

  Jeremiah had called and said he’d like to take her to Sevano’s, a super upscale restaurant in the newer part of Three Rivers’s Main Street. Whitney had changed her outfit four times since that phone call, and she’d texted non-stop with Jeremiah the previous night to find out what he would be wearing.

  Clothes? he’d answered, and Whitney had panicked as she stared at the phone.

  Now is not the time for your teasing, she’d said.

  I’m not teasing, he’d responded. So like jeans and a shirt? My cowboy hat?

  Of course, men had things so much easier than women when it came to things like this. Whitney wanted to know what color his shirt would be, and he’d said he’d just pull out the cleanest one.

  But she needed to know. She could then decide if she wanted to match him or if she wanted to go with a contrasting color.

  But he wouldn’t tell her.

  She looked good in pink and red, what with her tan complexion and dark hair. And her bright red lips.

  She added the final touch of that and checked to make sure her bright pink blouse lay flat in all the right places. She thought for a moment of Dalton getting ready for his date too and quickly tapped out a Good luck tonight! message to him.

  You too, he sent back. Details over lunch tomorrow?

  Whitney smiled and answered with, If I don’t have another date, adding a winking emoji to her text before sending it.

  She tugged on the end of her black skirt so it would brush the tops of her knees. She stepped into the tasteful pair of black heels—no pantyhose—and drew in a long breath before pushing it all out again.

  “All right,” she said to her empty house. “I’m ready.”

  Not two seconds later, her doorbell rang. As if he was a guard cat with the ferocity of a tiger, Jones meowed and looked over his shoulder at her. “Go get it,” she told the cat, who of course, did no such thing.

  Whitney had to answer the door herself, which she did to find Jeremiah standing there with a dashing smile on his face. She couldn’t move. He really was the most handsome man in the entire world, with those broad shoulders, covered in a red, white, and blue plaid shirt. The sleeves were short and his biceps strained against the fabric. His cowboy hat had been switched from the normal dark charcoal one he wore around the ranch to a pristine, white one that looked amazing against his tan face. The silver in his sideburns made her fingers twitch to touch it, and she let her eyes travel down his jean-clad legs to a pretty pair of cowboy boots with white and yellow stitching on them.

  “Wow,” she said, only realizing after she’d spoken that she’d actually vocalized anything.

  “No kidding,” he said. “Look at you, Miss Whitney.”

  “Oh, you’re going to pull out the Texas accent,” she said, flirting shamelessly. “And the manners. I see how it is.”

  “My momma would be mortified if I abandoned my manners now.” He offered her his arm, not even trying to come inside her house, and Whitney grabbed her purse from the couch beside her. She tucked her phone into the pocket and linked her arm through his.

  “How was your week?” he asked.

  “Oh, you know all about it already,” she said. “I’ve told you everything over the last couple of days.” It felt like it had been a lot longer since she’d seen him, but it really had only been three days.

  “Well, Skyler came home on Wednesday, and he already has a date tonight,” Jeremiah said as they went down the front steps. “So that made me realize how slow I’ve been.”

  Whitney glanced at him as surprise ran through her. She hadn’t been expecting him to talk about his prior relationships tonight, on their first date. “Oh?” she asked, deciding that would be safe.

  “Yeah,” he said. “You’re the first woman I’ve been out with in town.”

  “Oh, I’m aware,” she said. “The women of this town like to talk about you Walkers, you know. Especially now that a few of you are married.”

  Jeremiah just led her around the front of his truck and opened the door for her. He didn’t close the door right away, and his gaze burned into hers. “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing.” He backed up, closed the door, and started around the front of the truck. It looked like he was muttering to himself, and Whitney’s nerves started jumping around in her veins.

  Jeremiah got behind the wheel and glanced over at her. “Do you ride, Whitney?”

  “Didn’t we talk about this once?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said, flipping the truck into gear and backing up. “Did we?”

  “I can’t remember either,” she said. “I mean, I ride a little bit. Not a ton, and not for a few years.” She watched his profile, admiring his long, sloped nose and strong jaw. “I’d like to go with you, if you’re offering.”

  “Just around my ranch,” he said. “It doesn’t have to be a big thing. Then we can stop whenever we want.”

  “And you can make me dinner afterward.” The perfect date came together in her mind, down to the brownie baked in the cast iron skillet he’d scoop vanilla bean ice cream onto and they’d share. Maybe he’d kiss her after that too….

  He shook his head, chuckling. “You’re really hung up on that, aren’t you?”

  “I feel like I missed out last time,” she said. “For a really dumb reason.” She turned away from him, wanting to talk about something else. “What was the name of your horse again? Pretzel?”

  “Stonestepper,” he said. “Pretzel is Liam’s.”

  “You guys don’t share?”

  “No,” Jeremiah said. “I mean, I can ride any horse, but when I go
riding, I ride Stony.”

  “Oh, so you’re the horse whisperer?”

  “I talk to the horses, sure,” he said, and Whitney turned back to him, expecting him to laugh. He didn’t. “They’re great listeners,” he continued. “But they didn’t have any strategies for how to deal with certain things.” He shrugged with one sexy shoulder. “So that’s why I started going to Dr. Wagstaff.”

  “Because the horses couldn’t teach you how to meditate?”

  “Right,” he said.

  Whitney watched him make turns and head down Main Street. She loved the old buildings, the way everything was kept clean, and how the city put up flags and banners to celebrate city events and wreaths for Christmas.

  “Are you going to tell me why you didn’t date?” she asked. “And why you’re seeing Doctor Wagstaff?”

  “Those are really personal questions,” Jeremiah said.

  “I know,” Whitney said. “I told you about my no-good boyfriend that I kept going back to. That was personal too. That’s how we get to know each other, Jeremiah.”

  “Well, they are the same reason….” He turned into the parking lot at Sevano’s. A long hiss came out of his mouth. “Almost four years ago, my fiancée left me standing at the altar.” He released the steering wheel and looked at her. Whitney saw a dozen emotions running through those eyes she liked so much.

  “Just standing there, by myself. In front of everyone I knew, everyone I loved.” Pain filled every word. “I felt like an idiot. So foolish. Why couldn’t I see that she didn’t love me? Didn’t want to marry me?”

  “I’m so sorry,” Whitney said, because she couldn’t imagine not being able to walk down the aisle toward Jeremiah. He called to every one of her cells, and they were all screaming at her to lean a little closer, take a little deeper breath, commit every single thing about him to memory.

  Jeremiah shook his head, breaking their eye contact. “So Rhett bought the ranch—he’d just gone through a bad break-up too—and we moved here. Started fresh. Didn’t date.”

  “Rhett obviously dated,” Whitney said. “And Liam, and Tripp.”

  “Well, there was a pact,” Jeremiah said.

  Whitney smiled, because she could just see Jeremiah’s face when he found out the pact only meant something to him. And while she didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his anger, he sure was attractive when he was passionate about something.

  “Anyway, I’m doing a little better now,” he said. “Not as good as—” He cut off, his eyes widening as he met Whitney’s.

  “Not as good as what?” she asked.

  “Let’s talk inside,” he said evasively.

  Whitney wanted to demand that he tell her now, but she watched him slide out of the truck and round the front again. This time, he didn’t mutter to himself. He opened her door and offered her his hand.

  “You’re very mysterious, Mister Walker,” she said, to which he finally laughed. Whitney liked the deep, rich sound of that, and she felt like a princess as she walked into the restaurant with him and they were promptly whisked back to a private booth in the corner.

  “Have you ever eaten here?” he asked.

  “Once,” she said. “For my parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary.”

  “They must’ve gotten married real young,” he said.

  “Momma was only twenty,” she said. “She claims the Texas air keeps her young, but it’s really the Botox.” Whitney whispered the last few words and smiled at Jeremiah.

  “My parents got married young too,” he said. “All of us boys are a real disappointment to her. Well, I mean, Rhett and the twins are married now. So not all of us. But you should’ve heard her talk a year or so ago. It was like we’d failed completely by not marrying and having loads of babies.” He lifted his water glass to his lips, his face slowly turning a shade of red.

  “Wow,” Whitney said. “You’re really not great at this dating thing.” She giggled. “Though we’ve been out once before, and you didn’t bring up marriage and babies and past relationships and all of that.”

  “Too much?” he asked.

  “No,” Whitney said quickly. “I mean, no.”

  The waiter arrived and they put in their drink orders. Jeremiah looked back at Whitney, another dose of anxiety in his expression. “Okay, I have something really crazy to talk to you about.”

  “I like crazy. Remember the oddball thing?”

  Jeremiah shook his head. “That was a compliment.”

  “I know.” Whitney reached across the table and covered his hands with hers. Fireworks exploded up her arms, and she pulled in a breath at how electric everything with him felt. He seemed likewise as stunned by her touch, and she started to pull away.

  His fingers tightened and held onto hers. “It’s more of a favor.”

  “A favor?”

  “An insane favor.” He let go of her hands and sat back as the waiter arrived with their drinks. “Do you know what you’d like?” he asked, looking from Jeremiah to Whitney.

  She knew Julius Barnaby and had for years. He owned part of Sevano’s, but not many people knew that. She’d gone to a few local business owners meetings for a year or two with her father, and she’d seen him and Karl Brinkerton, who owned the other part of Sevano’s, at the meetings.

  “We need a minute still,” Jeremiah said. “I should probably look at the menu.” He picked up his and glanced at it. Whitney needed time with the menu too, and it was more like a book and she’d only been here once.

  “I’ll circle back.” Julius knocked on the table a couple of times and walked away. She and Jeremiah studied the menu, and when Julius returned, she was ready with her order.

  “Prime rib,” she said, handing the menu back. She went through ordering her sides, and Julius turned to Jeremiah.

  “Same,” he said, giving back the menu.

  Whitney grew warm from head to toe, and she ducked her head, glad she’d just showered and let her hair fall down her back. She’d clipped back the front of her hair, but plenty still spilled over her shoulders.

  “Okay, so we’ll have a few minutes,” he said. “I feel like I should tell you before you eat too much.”

  Whitney squirmed, glancing out into the rest of the restaurant, but with the limited view, her gaze gravitated back to Jeremiah.

  “Okay, this is stupid.” He lowered his head, the brim of his cowboy hat obscuring his face.

  “Just say it,” Whitney said. “I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?” She thought about her pseudonym and how she’d feel if Jeremiah knew she was Lake Winters. It would be very, very hard to tell him that, and her imagination started running through a dozen different scenarios for what kind of favor Jeremiah Walker would require of her.

  The man was a billionaire. He could buy anything he wanted, anytime he wanted it, including two incredibly expensive prime rib dinners at the most expensive restaurant in six counties.

  “You’re freaking me out,” she said.

  Jeremiah lifted his eyes to hers. “I want you to marry me,” he said.

  Whitney opened her mouth to respond, but the words had rendered her speechless. Her brain struggled to catch up, but all she could think was that oxygen was the wrong thing to breathe, and now she was slowly suffocating, the gorgeous Jeremiah Walker in front of her, waiting for her to say something.

  Chapter Nine

  Jeremiah’s pulse raced like it was trying to win the Kentucky Derby. Whitney looked like he’d hit her with that same cast iron skillet he’d dropped the first time he’d met her. Her beauty stunned him as much now as it had then.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Let me frame this a little better for you.” His words ran now, rushing out of him in long sentences. “They think I’m broken. My brothers, I mean. And I’m not broken, at least, not as much as I used to be. And they called a family meeting because I had a date with you. A date.” He scoffed and shook his head, realizing that Whitney’s eyes continued to search his face, looking for answ
ers he couldn’t give. Might never be able to give.

  “It wouldn’t be real,” he said. “But you could live at the ranch. Shoot all you want there. And I could show them I’m over Laura Ann.” He took a big breath and glanced around, but no one sat anywhere near them. He’d specifically asked for the most private booth in the restaurant, and it seemed like he’d gotten it.

  Whitney scoffed, folded her arms, and leaned back into the booth behind her. “I—I—”

  “You have no words,” he said. “And I am over Laura Ann. I am. I’m ready to be dating again. I really am. I just want to…accelerate things a little.”

  “I’ll say,” Whitney said. She couldn’t seem to look anywhere but at him, and Jeremiah sure did like that. “What are you going to tell your brothers? They know we haven’t been dating.”

  “We can plan it for a few months,” he said weakly, hearing how stupid his plan sounded. He’d been thinking about Whitney and marriage and how their wedding would solve a lot of problems. Rhett, Liam, and Tripp would back off. Wyatt wouldn’t call him broken anymore. His mother would be thrilled, and Jeremiah wouldn’t be alone at the homestead once fall arrived.

  He was getting a whole lot out of the arrangement, and he knew that. He’d offered for her to shoot at the ranch, but she hadn’t jumped at the chance to be his bogus bride in exchange for access to shooting at Seven Sons.

  Idiot, he chastised himself. But he hadn’t been able to think of anything else in the two days since the family meeting. In fact, he’d been dreaming of Whitney in a long, white dress every time he slept.

  “You want to plan our wedding to take place in a few months?” Whitney asked.

  “It won’t be real,” Jeremiah said.

  “And how long does it need to be?” she asked. “Why don’t we just date and see if we want to get married? Dating can show your brothers the same thing.” She sounded slightly hysterical, and Jeremiah’s foolishness doubled.

  “Forget it,” he said.

  “I’m….”

  He held up both hands as if waving off the cavalry. “Forget it. Honest.”