Chapter 16
SIXTEEN
SADIE
“Absolutely not.” Gideon’s voice was a whip crack in the small room. Stillness followed his words. Computers hummed in the resulting silence.
The rustle of my clothes sounded loud as I crossed my arms to face Gideon. “You got a better idea?”
“Yeah,” he said, stalking closer. “I lock you in a room until you stop walking into danger.”
“When have I ever walked into danger!”
“I found you at Rock Bottom an hour ago, Sadie.”
“I wasn’t in any danger! I mean, those guys were a little scary, but I didn’t think they’d hurt me. Not until you barged in all macho aggressive and threatened to kill Cash Bridges.”
And kissed me, I refrained from saying.
“You what?” Jack asked, eyes widening as he glanced at his brother. Gideon ignored him and kept those blue eyes trained on me.
Bennett whistled. “Shit,” he murmured.
Knox just sighed and said nothing as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.
I pointed at the screen. “We have a problem,” I said.
“Someone is targeting me, and we don’t know if there’s any relation to Mr. Titty.
Mr. Titty is also getting bolder and seems to be going after your grandma’s properties.
First, we need to figure out if they’re related. Then we need to stop them.”
“I like her,” Bennett said to Knox. Knox ignored him.
“We’re not using you as bait,” Gideon growled. His eyes sparked as they held my gaze, and I felt a shiver course through me.
“It’s the easiest way of finding out who did this to my car. And once we have them, we can get them to tell us whether or not they’re Mr. Titty.”
“No.”
“Gideon.”
“I said no, Sadie.”
“Oh, and I’m supposed to just agree with you, am I? Because you say no?”
Tension was thick enough to slice. Bennett broke it with a low whistle and a laugh, and Gideon used the opportunity to close the distance between us. He wrapped a hand around my arm and walked me toward the exit.
“What are you doing?” I protested. “We haven’t finished.”
“Oh, we’re done here, Sadie,” he growled.
“I do not like this side of you,” I said as he opened the door to the stairwell. It closed behind us with a bang, and I realized that was a lie.
I liked this side of him very much. I liked the fire in his eyes, and the way he couldn’t seem to stop touching me. I liked the way he caught me around the waist and pushed me up against the bare concrete wall.
“You,” he said in a quiet, dark voice, “are not bait. You’re never going to be bait. Understand?”
“I am a grown woman,” I answered, but my voice trembled. He was so close to me. So big. I wanted him so badly.
For a moment, I thought he felt the same. His eyes dropped to my lips and then skated away. I thought he was holding back from kissing me again.
But he wasn’t. He dropped his hands from my waist and took a big step back. Like being so close to me repelled him. He could only stand it for a few measly seconds.
I wanted to cry.
He glared at me once more and said, “I’m taking you home. I’m setting up a perimeter around the cottage, and you’re not going anywhere without me or one of my brothers by your side.”
Horror dawned inside me. Instead of the pleasant, relaxing time I’d had so far in town, I’d be stuck with a man I couldn’t help but desperately want.
A man who clearly didn’t want me back. No matter what had happened in that room upstairs, or in Rock Bottom in front of an entire biker gang, or alone in the bedroom on our wedding night, the truth was that Gideon always recoiled.
It was like he was trying to force himself to want me, but he couldn’t quite manage.
He was a one out of ten; he just didn’t want me that way.
If he’d kept his distance all the time, I would’ve been okay. My own desire for him would fade, and I’d find some sort of stasis in town. I’d settle for an okay life.
But this hot-and-cold act was driving me insane. Especially when I knew that even if we did want each other, I still hadn’t told him about my malfunctioning body. We were never going to get our happily-ever-after, but I couldn’t stop myself from dreaming about it.
Maybe this whole thing had been doomed from the start. We weren’t a perfect match because I’d lied on my application. Gideon was just a microcosm of the whole town and the easy, quiet life it promised: something I desperately wanted that didn’t want me back.
“Let’s go,” he said, and led me down the stairs and out the door.
We drove home in silence, and I ducked into the bathroom to shower. I heard him banging around the kitchen, but I didn’t have the heart to face him. An hour after I’d scurried back into my room, there was a knock on the door.
“Yes?”
“Food’s ready. I made lasagna.”
I freaking loved lasagna. But I didn’t love the prospect of eating it with Gideon sitting on the other side of the table. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”
The knob turned, and the door cracked open. I sat up in bed, glaring. “I could’ve been changing in here!”
“You should eat something.”
“When are you going to stop ordering me around?”
“When you start taking care of yourself properly.”
“I’m not hungry.”
My sort-of husband glared at me from the doorway, then let out a sigh. “I’ve got to head back to work. Knox is watching the house; I’ve left his number on the kitchen counter. Call him if you need anything.”
We watched each other for a moment, and then Gideon turned and left. I slumped back in bed and listened to the engine of his car fade, wondering how the hell I’d gotten myself in this position. Was this worth the angst?
My phone buzzed, interrupting my thoughts. The family group chat. My sister Christine had sent a photo. I prepared to toss my phone aside without looking at it when a second message came through.
CHRISTINE
Sadie, is this you????
A second later, my mom chimed in.
MOM
YOU GOT MARRIED?
I had time to swipe up and see a screenshot of a news article. The headline read: ARRANGED MARRIAGE LAST DITCH EFFORT TO SAVE A SMALL TOWN. There was a picture of me and Gideon at the altar, glaring at each other as we held hands, with our names in small print in the caption.
Then my phone rang. I tossed it away like it was a live snake, and watched as it buzzed its way across the comforter, my mother’s name lighting up the dim room.
It went still, and I let out a breath.
Then she called again.
With a sigh, I grabbed my phone and swiped to answer. “Mom.”
“You got married? Without me?”
I closed my eyes and reached for patience. Trust my mother to make my wedding about herself. “Nice to talk to you too, Mom.”
“Don’t sass me, Sadie. Is that you in that article?”
I bit my thumbnail and scrambled for an explanation, and finally had to settle on the truth. “Yes.” Bracing myself for her ridicule (what kind of desperate ninny needed an arranged marriage to finally tie the knot?), I tensed on the bed.
But my mother did not ridicule me. Instead, she let out a shriek of happiness. “FINALLY! BARRY! SADIE’S MARRIED! YES! I KNOW! AFTER ALL THIS TIME!”
I listened to her cheers as I sat on the bed all alone, and a piece of my heart withered and died. For my entire life, being married was the pinnacle of success. My parents had built their business, their very identity, on the love story that had bound them together.
Now that I was finally toeing the family line, the relief in my mother’s exclamations was clear. I was finally one of them, and it didn’t matter that I’d had to have an arranged marriage to achieve it.
Instead of feeling relieved or happy for it, I was numb.
She hadn’t asked me if I was happy. She hadn’t inquired about the groom. All that mattered was that I had a ring on my finger.
I looked down at the gold band that Gideon had slipped on my finger, touching the underside of it with my thumb.
“Well, we’re going to have to get a bigger cabin for our family trip,” she said, coming back to the call.
“And I have to meet him! What’s he like?
I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. I didn’t even get to make a speech!
Your father and I always dreamed of singing at your wedding.
We’ll have to have a do-over reception. Christine will do the flowers. ”
I made vaguely appropriate noises and waited for my mother to run out of steam. She eventually told me she had to run, after having asked me exactly zero questions about myself. I hung up the phone and tossed it aside, then got up off the bed and ate three servings of lasagna.
It was delicious, because I’d married a fantastic cook.
Damn Gideon for being the perfect man. I found Knox’s number and texted him about the lasagna.
A minute later, the door creaked open, and he gave me a little half-smile.
He ate half the pan then patted his stomach.
“Good stuff,” he said in his usual low grunt.
“Gideon made it,” I said as I cleared his plate. “I can’t take credit.”
He nodded, watching me. “We’ll find out who did that to your car,” he told me quietly. “Anything you need, Sadie. You’re one of us now.”
My throat clogged up, and all I could do was keep my eyes on the dishes.
I nodded, listening to Knox’s footsteps fade as he went back to his post outside.
Through the windows, I saw him get in his car and get comfortable.
My own car had materialized beside his; someone had driven it over.
I could see the scratches on the side from here.
I slumped down on the sofa and buried my head in my hands.
I should’ve been grateful for the Mars clan’s protection.
I’d never had anyone—let alone a whole group of people—accept me so easily.
Now they were spending their time and energy making sure I was safe.
Contrast that with my own family, who only accepted me now that I was married. They didn’t even care to whom.
I so badly wanted to stay here. I wanted Caroline as a friend. I wanted to get gossip from Mrs. Gretzinger. I wanted Sunday family lunches and Scooby-Doo mysteries involving spray-painted breasts. I didn’t even mind the vandalism on my car if it meant I belonged somewhere.
But I did mind the constant rejection from the man I’d married. A man who was perfect in every way, other than the fact that he didn’t want me back.
Leaving would save my sanity and my heart…but it would mean admitting to my own family that my marriage had failed. I would go back to being an outcast and a failure. Only worthy of an air mattress or a pull-out couch.
I went to bed early and fell asleep. Alone.
GIDEON
The house was dark and silent when I drove up, waved at Knox through the windshield, and parked outside. I crept inside and listened at the mouth of the hallway for evidence that she was awake. I hadn’t seen her in almost six hours, and the need to touch her made me twitchy and uncomfortable.
Behind her closed door, there was only silence.
Despite my aching back, I took my position on the couch and lay there, staring at the ceiling, wanting her.
But the only way to keep myself whole was to maintain my distance. A woman like her would tire of me as soon as she’d recovered from whatever had landed her here. She wouldn’t want to stay with someone deformed and broken.
Better to guard my own heart while she figured that out on her own.