Chapter Twenty
Roxy
C hristian helps me from his sports car with a carefree smile, none of the seriousness from the moment before evident in his demeanor. “Ready, you two?”
Axel pushes away from the back of the vehicle where he waits for us with a scowl. “I’m starving, if that’s what you want to hear.”
Christian purses his lips as if he’s trying to hold back a grin while I aim daggers at my disrespectful nephew. “Good,” Chris says, tipping his head toward his parents’ home. “Because I have no doubt my mom will have made a small feast.”
Axel grunts as we trek toward the front door. “You mean she doesn’t have servants to do all that for her?”
“ Axel. ” I grit out his name like a warning as Christian’s body tenses. “If you ever want to touch another video game again,” I continue, “knock it off.”
Like he didn't just witness me threaten my nephew, Christian places a gentle hand against my lower back and leads me up the steps, only stopping once we’re in front of the large cherry double doors. “Mom loves to entertain. No hired help necessary.”
I’m still glaring a warning at Axel when Christian knocks on the door. The next second, his mother smiles down at us like she’d been waiting at the threshold, eagerly anticipating our arrival. “I’m so glad you all could make it.”
“Us too.” Christian’s hold loosens as he leans forward to place a kiss on his mom’s cheek. His hand still lingers when she wraps me in a breath-stealing hug.
“So good to see you again, Roxy,” she whispers close to my ear.
“You, too, Mrs. Price.”
“Ah, ah,” she tuts, “It’s Amanda, remember?”
“Mom, I’d like you to meet Axel, Roxy’s nephew.” Amanda’s smile widens as she takes him in from head to toe.
“My, you’re tall. And so handsome.” Without waiting for an invitation, she pulls Axel toward her and crushes him in a hug. To my shock, he pats her back like he’s at least attempting to return the surprise embrace. The sight is so sweet and amusing I have to press my fingers to my lips to keep from laughing.
“It’s a pleasure to have you in the family, Axel.” Amanda steps back, holding him at arm’s length. “I can’t wait for Kent to get a look at you. He’ll want to know all about the sports you play, I’m sure.”
“I don’t play sports,” Axel blurts unceremoniously.
I side-eye him until he meets my gaze with a look that says, What? She brought it up.
I paste on a smile and turn to Amanda. “Axel enjoys basketball.”
“Oh, lovely,” Chris’s mom croons. “You know, I played a little basketball myself when I was a teenager.”
I’m not surprised by this information, considering how tall and athletically built she is. She could’ve easily been a skilled player at one time.
She ushers us forward with a wide sweep of her arm, then leans close to Axel as he passes and murmurs, “Maybe we can convince Christian to shoot some hoops with us after dinner.”
I fight to keep a smile at bay.
“You have a hoop here?” Axel asks, obvious surprise cracking his voice.
“We sure do.” Amanda leads us through a gorgeous, yet not extravagantly opulent foyer. Cherry trim lines the dusty blue walls decorated tastefully with what appear to be expensive art pieces. “Christian used to play in school, too, so we keep it around.” Glancing coyly at us over her shoulder, she adds, “I’m proud to say that I’m the one who helped him perfect his layup.”
Chris laughs, curling his fingers inward, adding a bit of pressure to my low back. “That’s true. But I think I showed you a few moves of my own.”
Amanda smiles wide, then stops before a cozy, inviting dining room. “You’re always teaching me something, aren’t you, son?” Her sparkling eyes catch mine before she gestures at the perfectly set table, complete with a row of lighted candles. “Well, here we are. Why don’t you all sit down while I put the finishing touches on our meal.”
“Is there something I could help with?” I ask, hoping to be useful.
Amanda tilts her head curiously. “Actually, there is. I’d love to have your help if you’re willing.”
“Of course.” I go to join her, but Christian wraps a hand around my waist, stopping me. I look up into his eyes, questioning. The setting sun shining through the gauzy curtains mingled with the flickering candlelight makes his eyes sparkle like the ocean.
“Hurry back, wife,” he murmurs just before nuzzling my cheek with his, then adds in a hoarse whisper, “Thank you for always being so generous.”
An inappropriate-for-the-moment shiver runs through my body, sending goosebumps along my arms. He releases me almost as quickly as he detained me, but I’m left wobbling on unsteady legs at his proximity. I don’t respond or even glance back at him as I hustle to where Amanda stares at us in what I can only describe as unabashed wonder.
Once we’re in the kitchen, she directs me to take the rolls out of the oven and place them in a cloth-lined basket. It feels good to keep busy after Christian threw me so far off-kilter with his huskily whispered compliment.
“I’ve never seen him like this before,” Amanda says, capturing my attention.
I spare a quick glance over my shoulder lest one of the rolls get away from me. “I’m sorry?”
“Christian,” she reiterates, her voice drifting closer. “I’ve never seen him like this before. With anyone. It’s just...it’s good to see, that’s all.”
Hot shame slithers through me, but I paste on a smile anyway. “I’m glad to hear it. He’s a good man.”
His mom sighs dreamily as she pulls two glasses from the cupboard beside me. “That he is. Would you like something to drink?” Without waiting for me to respond, she sashays to the refrigerator and pours us each a glass of sparkling water. “You know, Christian’s father has always tried to push him toward the daughters of his golf buddies down at the country club.” She laughs, but it’s more resentful than happy. “Sometimes Chris obliged him for the sake of keeping the peace, but usually he was too focused on school or work to really put any effort into those girls. And let me tell you, it wasn’t for their lack of pursuing him .”
A completely uncalled for sting of jealousy punctures my heart. “Has he had a lot of girlfriends, then?” I find myself needing to know his mother’s answer to the question, even though Chantelle assured me he hasn’t.
“Not a lot, no. Just a few. And never serious. The last girl, Stefany, the one you met at the wedding...” She trails off, then clears her throat. “Well, we thought maybe there was something more there, but she turned out to be all wrong for him.” She takes a sip of her drink before giving my hand a pat. “She wasn’t anything like you, dear.”
Gee, thanks for rubbing it in.
“Stefany was all show,” Amanda continues, “but you, Roxy. You’re the real deal. Kind and sacrificial. Exactly the kind of woman my son needs to stand beside him during the good days and the tough ones.”
A soft sort of sadness lines her eyes as she reaches out and rests her palm against my cheek. I instantly want to press her hand more firmly against me and soak up the simple touch. I don’t, because that would be beyond inappropriate, but it’s been so long since I’ve felt a mother’s tenderness. I had no idea how much I craved it.
“Life isn’t easy,” she says solemnly. “Even when you agree to spend it with the person you love most.” A deep furrow puckers her brow. “I’ve always told Christian to look for a girl who embodies strength and courage. That way, when life weighs you both down, and it will eventually, she won’t buckle under the pressure. She’ll be right there beside you, shoulder to shoulder, ready to bear the load with you.” She smiles. “That’s why I’m so glad to see Christian with you. You, my dear, are a strong woman.”
Tears nearly blur my vision, but I blink them away before they can. “That’s a beautiful thing to say.” Even if I’m not the one meant to be with Christian for the long haul, it’s encouraging to think that his mom sees any amount of strength in me. Regardless of whether or not I feel strong or courageous.
“Thank you,” I add, and she drops her hand.
“No need to thank me for calling it like I see it. The way you’re working to take care of your nephew after all you two have been through is a testament to your courage, your dedication to family. It’s admirable.”
This time, tears do mist over my eyes. “I have to,” I say, swallowing back a sob. “I promised my brother, and—and I’m all he has.” I don’t bother to mention Marcus. Axel doesn’t even really know him.
Amanda sets her glass on the counter beside us to curl her hands around each of my shoulders. “Not anymore, Roxy. He has all of us.” She pulls me into another one of her lung-crushing hugs, and I’m inclined to rest in it, to let my worries about Axel melt away. But I can’t.
It’s not real , I want to cry. I’m not brave or strong. I’m weak. I’m a desperate woman who jumped at the chance of gaining your son’s last name and reputation just so I could keep my nephew.
Amanda doesn’t know it, but I’m actually the worst type of woman. Not only am I using her son in this marriage, I’m a runner . The girl who never stays anywhere longer than six months because settling down feels wrong and unnatural. At the same time, I’m the girl who jumps into new relationships with both feet, only to wind up the one being used in the end. I let my heart lead me into the dark, then cry when I trip over roots and thorns I never saw coming. Then, like a true coward, I burn every bridge and run before the smoke has a chance to catch up with me.
I’m deathly afraid of doing the same thing with Chris. He’s so kind, so good , that I could easily let myself fall for him. But what would happen if I let him in, and he discovered who I really was?
I need to remember that Axel is the reason for this marriage. He’s the driving force behind my attempt to turn over a new leaf. But what happens after I adopt him? Will I be able to hold down my job and live a steady life? Or will my old ways catch up to me, finding me restless and eager to escape the grief that seems to crawl all over Denver?
Fear of the unknown settles like a rock in the pit of my stomach as Amanda pulls away from me.
“Well, we’d better get dinner on the table. Kent’s bound to show up any minute.”
I force a smile and grab the basket full of rolls, clutching them like they’re some sort of shield. After marching them out to the dining room table, avoiding Christian’s gaze all the while, I help his mom set out the rest of meal. Kent Price finally decides to grace us with his intimidating presence, taking the seat at the opposite end of the table as his wife.
“Christian, Roxy. It’s good to see you both.” His eyes alight on Axel, and he smiles. “And this must be the nephew I keep hearing so much about.”
“This is Axel,” I say, then tack on, “Sir.”
Axel dips his chin in a show of politeness I could kiss him for. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise, young man. I’m glad you could join us this evening.” He takes his napkin and drapes it across his lap, giving me the impression that maybe I should do the same. “Are you settling in well with my son?”
There’s a light edge of...something...in Mr. Price’s voice, but I can’t make out what.
Axel nods as his thigh bounces up and down next to mine under the table. He’s nervous. Same, kid, I want to say. I’ve never felt quite at ease in the CEO’s presence.
“Uh, yeah,” Axel says with a shrug. “It’s nice enough.”
Mr. Price offers him a thin-lipped smile before skirting his gaze to Christian. I suppress the urge to kick Axel in the shin for insinuating Christian’s place is anything but gorgeous. Instead, I say, “It’s been a transition, but I think it’s safe to say we’re all acclimating well.”
With a secret smile, Christian meets my eyes from across the table.
“I’m relieved to hear it,” Mr. Price says, resting his forearms on the table. “With the way you two rushed into things, I worried you’d suffer from buyer’s remorse.”
My gaze ping-pongs between Chris and his dad. “Buyer’s remorse?”
“You know,” Mr. Price continues. “The regret that comes after making a big purchase. Marriage is a transaction, after all. If either party doesn’t hold up their end of the bargain, well...remorse and regret are sure to follow.”
Christian’s face reddens as his jaw works back and forth. Wait, did he say something to his dad about the true nature of our marriage? Or does his dad just suspect that we’re treating it more like a business deal than an actual marriage? A cold sweat breaks out across my forehead as I scramble to say something that would salvage our marital image.
“I have zero regrets marrying Roxy.” Christian’s eyes meet and hold mine. “And our marriage isn’t a transaction,” he amends, that small smile of his blooming again. “It’s an investment in our future.” He winks, and it’s like a direct shot of electricity straight to my middle.
“Hm,” Mr. Price hums just before Amanda chimes, “Why don’t we say grace so we can go ahead and eat,” saving us all from any more undue awkwardness. Mr. Price asks Christian to bless the meal, and for the first time maybe ever I get to hear a man pray aloud.
But not just any man. My husband.
Christian’s deep voice soothes some of my anxiety as I listen to him ask God to bless our meal. When he takes it even further and asks him to bless our marriage, I stiffen. Not because I don’t want God’s blessing but because surely an infallible, sinless Being could never bless our farce of a marriage.
Even if, sometimes when I’m all alone and hurting, I wish it was real.