Tangled Vows (Willow Brook Falls #3)

23. Easton

23

EASTON

I t was on the tip of my tongue to tell Shayla I knew what she was going through. Our grandparents raised Roni and me after our parents died, and when cancer took Grammy away, it was like losing my parents all over again. But I hadn’t been able to speak the words. They hurt too bad, and I was already raw from our conversation. Shayla really believed that I would step out on her while we were married. Even before her declaration of no sex ever, I swore to myself I would keep my word and forsake all others. I did have some morals. And not fucking other women who weren’t my wife was one of them.

“So,” Shayla began, standing from her seat and reaching her hand out to me, “that settles it then,” she announced, stirring me from my thoughts.

I took her proffered hand for a shake. Unable to resist, I pasted on my most charming smirk.

“Sure you don’t want to seal this deal with a kiss?” Damn, I was good at deflecting when my emotions took over.

“Ugh,” she groaned, dropping my hand like it had burned her. “Are you going to be this insufferable until we get this thing annulled?”

My teasing bravado wavered, and I swallowed thickly past the emotion suddenly clogging my throat. She was already looking forward to our marriage ending. It shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did, and I couldn’t explain the ache in the center of my chest at her words.

Plastering on a fake smile, I replied with humor I didn’t feel.

“Probably.” Unaware of my inner turmoil, she rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

“So when are we doing this?”

“The sooner the better. I was thinking sometime in the next few weeks.” She nodded, her expression turning somber. “We have a game in Vegas soon,” I added, and her gaze snapped to mine, uncertainty swirling in the stormy gray depths.

“I-I can’t get married without my mom there.”

“We can fly her out,” I offered. “Does she know what you’re planning?”

“No!” she said, her eyes widening. “She can’t know. If she finds out, she’ll try to talk me out of it.” She worried her lip between her teeth, her anxiety palpable.

“How do you want to proceed? She’s going to know something is up if you tell her we’re getting married soon and she’s never even met me.”

She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“You’re right. Maybe Vegas is our best option. We’ll surprise everyone.”

“When we get back, we can start moving your things into my house.”

“I’m not moving in with you,” she shrieked, her eyes widening like it was the most absurd idea she’d ever heard.

“Shayla, this has to be believable. Don’t you think it will look a little suspicious if we’re married but not living together?”

“But my mom is sick. I can’t leave her.” Her chin wobbled, and guilt gnawed at my insides. I didn’t want to take her away from her family, but this wouldn’t work with us living in separate houses.

“You can still spend as much time with her as you’d like, but you have to come home to me every night.” She sucked in a sharp breath at my declaration, and I realized too late how it sounded. It was too intimate, too raw. I wasn’t her doting husband, but a means to an end, and I needed to remember that.

“There’s too much at stake for us to risk anyone suspecting this isn’t real,” I continued, ignoring the hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. “This is my one condition.” She had hers, and this was mine.

She nodded, her shoulders sagging. “Okay,” she conceded, and I would’ve felt triumphant if it hadn’t been for the defeat written all over her features. Was the thought of living with me so unbearable?

“You’ll have your own space, your own bedroom. You can come and go as you please,” I added to soften the blow, “but you have to be home to sleep. Once news breaks that we got married, there could be reporters following you, taking your picture. If they see you staying somewhere else, it could jeopardize everything.”

“I understand,” she replied solemnly.

“I realize I’m asking a lot, but I plan to compensate you for your time and effort.”

“Compensate me?”

“You’re giving up so much to help me out.” Not only did she have to leave her home, but she was also stuck being married to me for the next year or so. She wouldn’t be able to date or pursue a real relationship while we were together. For a woman in her mid-twenties who should be out having fun and maybe even falling in love, she was putting her life on pause for completely selfless reasons.

The thought of Shayla falling for another man caused a spark of jealousy to surge through my veins. It was completely irrational considering we weren’t really in a relationship and were only entering into this marriage of convenience to help her mom and salvage my career. But Shayla was a beautiful, smart, quick witted woman. It would be hard to give her up when the time came.

Shaking away those thoughts, I cleared my throat and continued. “I fully intend to pay off your mother’s house so you never have to worry about a mortgage again.” Shayla gasped and covered her mouth. Shock filled her stormy gray eyes, but I wasn’t done yet. “I’m also buying you a new car.” She opened her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. I saw that rust bucket she drove and heard the rattling sound it made whenever she accelerated out of the parking lot. It was on its last leg whether she wanted to admit it or not. “You’re about to be married to one of the highest paid hockey players in all of North America. Don’t you think it will look kinda suspicious for me to let my wife drive around in a decade old sedan that needs a new transmission and paint job?”

She shivered at the words my wife as they rolled effortlessly off my tongue, but the reaction was short lived. She narrowed her gaze on me and took a step in my direction, jabbing a perfectly manicured finger into my chest. My little hellcat was back.

“Let’s get one thing straight. You don’t let me do anything. This isn’t the fifties. Just because we’ll be married doesn’t mean you’ll get to control me or what I do.”

I raised my hands placatingly, suppressing my mirth. She really was a fiery little vixen when she was worked up. My dick stirred to life in my pants imagining how wild she’d be in the sack. I fought the urge to grab her arm and pull her into my chest, tamping down all thoughts of her in my bed.

“I’m not trying to control you,” I assured her, but she wasn’t convinced. “I’m just trying to take care of you and convince the media we’re the real deal. No offense, but if you continue to drive that hunk of junk once we’re married, I’m going to look like a piece of shit who doesn’t care about you. How do you think that will look?”

She dropped her hand with a sigh.

“Like our marriage isn’t real.”

“Exactly.”

“Alright,” she conceded. “I’ll let you buy me a car.”

“Thank you.” I was prepared to take it to the junkyard and scrap it if she refused, but it looked like I wouldn’t have to resort to those extreme measures.

“But,” she interrupted, pointing a finger at me in warning, “you better not buy me the newest, most expensive car on the lot. “I’m a woman of simple means, and I’m not out to impress anybody.”

“You have my word.”