Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Autumn
Gideon had gotten a message from his dad that the celebration would start at five. He’d worked at the table all day. I had texted Mark that I’d gotten married in Vegas and would bring in my documents to change everything with HR. Messaging my friends was next. Then I’d shut down my phone. I’d continue dealing with my family’s reaction later; my coworkers would have to wait.
It was almost four. We’d have to go to Hank’s party soon. I’d suggested arriving early to help his dad and put on a good show of being happy newlyweds. My nerves were a lump in my stomach.
I gently prodded Sprinkles off my lap and rose. I’d spent the day working on lesson plans only because I felt guilty reading while he was working.
I was sneaking behind Gideon when he pushed back the chair and faced me. The force of his gaze sent shivers whispering over my skin.
“My lawyer has the documents prepared. You can read through them and sign.”
I glanced from him to his laptop screen. There was a document-signing program up with a bold yellow button on it.
“This is the postnup,” he explained. “Then you can read through the divorce papers, but you don’t need to sign them now.”
“That was fast,” I muttered. I’d had the day off, but his legal team hadn’t.
“I don’t pay my legal team to drag their feet.”
Well. I slid into the seat. He crossed his arms and loomed over me. I’d been exposed to a fair number of contracts through Copper Summit, but always through our lawyers first. I scanned over our information. “Don’t you need my property information?”
“I told him all it needed to say is that anything that was ours before marriage is ours after and anything we make or produce or come into ownership of while married belongs to whoever received it.”
Meaning I’d have no claim over Percival Farms. I was fine with that. I’d expected pages and pages of documents, but in the end, it was simple. Gideon didn’t want me to get anything that was his, and he couldn’t claim anything that was mine. He had more to lose when we divorced. But he might not have Percival when we divorced.
I went through the clicks to sign the document.
He leaned over me, his scent washing over me, and clicked on another tab. Divorce papers. He stepped back and took his heat with him .
A chill sank into my bones as I read over more legal jargon. “There’s nothing in here about children.”
“We can cross that bridge when we know there’s a river. If you’d like more time to look them over, I can send a copy in an email.”
I let him dismiss the kid topic. For now. “No. That’s fine. You can send them when it’s time to... file.”
“We need to get going,” he said softly.
I gladly escaped to the bedroom. I changed into a long-sleeved dress with my trusty leggings underneath. I might’ve picked another pair of rust-colored bottoms because of my new nickname and not just because they looked really good with the blue designs in my favorite pair of cowboy boots.
My heart skipped a beat when I caught Gideon eyeing my legs on our way out the door. But during the drive, his expression returned to his normal smolder. It was his standard CEO look and not a special heat just for me.
We’re going to have to be intimate soon.
He would live up to his end of the deal. Neither of us knew if we’d get what we wanted, but we were willing to try.
Was that what I wanted?
Gideon, yes. His perfunctory compliance? No.
I was in over my head.
I was almost glad I had tonight to take my mind off physical activities with Gideon and what he’d think of me.
I was rusty. I’d never been a firecracker about a damn thing in my life. I didn’t even light them off.
He turned off the main gravel road that led to the long, winding road to his dad’s place. I frowned and peered out the window. I wasn’t familiar with their land, but this road was narrower and bumpier. It was little more than a dirt path with two wheel tracks.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“You’re going to pick a hole in those leggings.”
I glanced down to where my hand was scratching at the seam on the side of my thigh. “I’m nervous.”
“I know. You about jumped outta your boots when I put my hand on the small of your back yesterday.”
Did he realize how casual he sounded? Did he get more relaxed with increased pressure? Figured.
The road went through a scattering of trees. There was a short approach that led to a wire fence. He stopped, turned around, and parked with the car facing in the direction we’d come from.
“I can do some breathing exercises.” I closed my eyes and inhaled—one, two, three.
His heat crowded me before I heard the click of his seat belt and then mine. His fingertips touched my jaw and tilted my face toward him. “I have a better idea.”
His mouth landed on mine.
Stunned, I quit picking at my leggings and kissed him back. I twined a hand around the back of his neck. The short prickles of his tightly trimmed hair tickled my palm. His lips were soft but unyielding. I clutched his shoulder with my other hand, fisting my fingers in the material of his expensive polo shirt.
A whimper left me and he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping inside. I was twisted in my seat and so was he. The console was between us, but we were wrapped up in each other.
He cupped my face, his long fingers in my hair. His tongue had my sole focus. Where’d this guy learn how to kiss? I never thought about my kissing ability. No complaints meant it was good enough, but Gideon was robbing me of breath. I was running a marathon while he was on a leisurely stroll.
He broke the kiss, only to nibble a path across my jaw. “You taste like sunshine and candy.”
I tipped my head back as he kissed a path down my neck. My eyes fluttered open when he bunched up the hem of my dress.
I jerked when warm fingers touched my abdomen. This wasn’t my best position. I had a belly and hips. Curvy might be in, but those curves also formed rolls when sitting like this. I wasn’t splayed across a settee like a Renaissance model.
A disapproving growl came from him. He brushed his hand up my side to skim underneath my bra, then he cupped a breast over the material. “Does this feel good?”
“Yes,” I gasped.
He kissed up my neck and nibbled my earlobe. A shiver rippled its way down my body as he worked his wicked fingers under the cup of my bra.
Oh god. How could getting to second base blow away any other experience I’d had?
“Gideon?” I whispered, but I didn’t know what I was asking for.
My breast was free of the material and he stroked my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. In the time since he’d put his mouth on me, a direct connection between my boob and my pussy had formed. A steady thrum pulsed between my thighs, growing stronger and more demanding.
He claimed my mouth again, and again, I whimpered. I stuffed my hands in his hair and held on for dear life. He kissed me senseless. There was no part of my mouth he didn’t explore with his tongue. I was his to devour.
When he pulled away, I let out a needy moan and blinked. I should be embarrassed, but damn. Why’d he quit?
He removed his hand and gently tugged my bra cup back into place. Then he smoothed my dress down. Humiliation was creeping up into my stunned brain. Except for some ruffled hair, he appeared unbothered. How could he kiss like that and just... stop?
He slid his hand around my neck and stroked my jaw with his thumb. “What’s going on in that sharp mind of yours?”
I’d take the compliments where I found them. “You just stopped.”
“We have a celebration dinner to get to.”
“Right.”
Our faces were inches apart, and he studied me. “This isn’t a comfortable place to fuck, but don’t delude yourself. If we kept going, that is exactly what I would be doing to you right now.”
My legs quivered. “Really?”
He leaned in even closer, his breath wafting over my cheek. “I’m dying to know if you taste like cotton candy everywhere.”
I groaned. The sounds this man could get me to make. I was a proud hussy.
He claimed my mouth once more for a sensual kiss. “Now, when I touch you, you won’t fucking flinch.”
He reached over me and buckled me in. He was so efficient I wasn’t sure I believed him about losing control if we continued. But before he took care of his own seat belt, he adjusted the giant bulge in his jeans.
He glanced over. I lifted my gaze to his, and I saw it. The incinerating arousal he kept a tight rein on. A tiny flicker in the green mask of his irises.
He looked away and calmly put the car in drive. We bumped back down the road to celebrate our wedding.
What would happen if I coaxed that spark into an inferno?
Gideon
When we arrived at the house, my raging erection finally redirected blood to my brain. The stop had been necessary. My reasoning was practical. It had nothing to do with how hard it’d been not to roll her over and plunge into her when I woke up with her soft body pressed against mine. It had nothing to do with seeing her ass cheeks bounce in her pajama pants.
She hadn’t been wearing underwear and thank fucking god she hadn’t realized how see-through the thin material was.
Creamy, white butt cheeks that would be perfect to hold on to.
I was getting a hard-on again, only this time I was surrounded by Baileys. But all I had to do to get rid of it was remember her studying and then signing the postnup. The woman knew what she wanted and my wealth wasn’t it. My respect for her grew. But then I’d pulled up the divorce papers and I’d gone cold. I’d wanted to shut the laptop.
Those papers marked the end. Wasn’t that what I wanted? An end to the sale. An end to the need for this ruse. A halt to the talk about kids and everything a divorce would mean on that front.
I could say for certain that I wanted an end to this damn dinner.
We weren’t in the house. I hadn’t gone in since we’d arrived. I hadn’t been in that place since I’d left after graduation.
The shop that used to hold various bits of broken-down equipment Dad had never fixed had been cleared out and cleaned up.
When had that happened? Definitely wasn’t in the last twenty-four hours.
The walls were clear. The pegboard that had held all sorts of tools was bare. Someone had painted too.
Where’d he gotten the money to hire all this out?
Mae had arrived with two men I’d never seen before. Autumn introduced them as Myles’s brothers, Cruz and Lane. They were much younger than him, and from what Autumn had told me, while we’d filled our glasses with punch, they’d started working for Mae in the last two years. She’d said they hadn’t known Myles growing up and Myles hadn’t known they existed.
The rest of the Baileys who’d been at Autumn’s house to berate her were here but with their kids this time. I’d sort of met Myles and Wynter’s baby, Elsa, but I wasn’t prepared to see so many little people. A lanky teen boy made sure a little girl in a twirly dress didn’t drag a small toddler outside to get into whatever trouble they could find .
Those kids were Tate’s. I didn’t care to see him as a happy family man. Just like I didn’t want to witness the smitten way he gazed at his wife.
I took another drink of punch. No alcohol. Not in the punch and not anywhere in the shop.
I could start to believe Dad was sober when he acted like this.
I had expected Autumn to mingle with her sisters, but she was glued to my side.
Tate’s wife approached us with a pleasant smile. She’d arrived with Tate, and Autumn had introduced her as Scarlett.
I smoothed my hand down Autumn’s back as she chatted with Scarlett.
Dad approached. “I hope you don’t mind the sandwiches. I thought it’d be easier to throw together at the last minute.”
“The party didn’t have to be at the last minute.”
A flash of hurt faded in his eyes. Right after, a burn ignited behind my sternum. I hadn’t eaten yet, but my heartburn didn’t care.
“I can still be a little impulsive,” he said roughly. “I was happy to have you home and then to find out it was for this.” His fond smile was aimed at Autumn.
“I’ll be around for a while.” Once the land sale was stopped, I was out. The board didn’t like their CEO gone for long. They were already sending semi-panicked messages.
“That’s music to these old ears.” He brushed his fingers down his freshly trimmed beard. The longer parts of his horseshoe mustache blended with the rest of his facial hair. “You two want to come out some night? Just us for a quiet meal? ”
I didn’t want to see how the house had changed. How he had ruined any memory of Mom like he’d wrecked the ranch she was so proud of. “I’ll talk to Autumn.”
She turned into me. I was acutely aware of how the side of her breast was pushed into my side. I had almost ripped her damn bra off to get at those creamy tits.
“Hank invited us for supper,” I explained.
“Oh? What night?”
“Any night you want,” Dad answered. He sounded so damn excited. My heartburn grew more intense.
“We’d love to,” she gushed and I didn’t think she was doing it for show. “I’m not sure how this week will work though. I go back to work tomorrow, and the music teacher and I will be getting ready for the program Thursday night. I work at the bar on Wednesdays and on the weekends.”
She worked nights and weekends? I was prepared to work from her kitchen table during the day, but the disappointment that she’d be gone for some nights increased my reflux.
“I’ve got meetings Wednesday nights, but yeah, let’s plan for another week.” Dad’s smile was kind.
What meeting did he have? Was he being coy, trying to figure out how long I would be in town? We hadn’t addressed the question of where she and I were making our home. I was letting her family think I could work remotely and fly back and forth as needed.
We also hadn’t discussed how we’d end this after the month was done. I’d leave and we’d chalk it up to an impulsive move that wasn’t practical due to our different lives.
I’d bring that up to her. Later .
She returned his grin. “We’ll figure something out. Next week is conferences, and Halloween is next weekend. My kids love stopping by the house to trick-or-treat.”
“Oh, the heck,” Dad said, and he chuckled. “I never even think of that. Living out here, no one ever stops by.”
I expected his tone to make his statement a dig, but instead, all I heard was sadness.
“Same at Mama’s,” Autumn replied easily. “Trick-or-treating kids is a perk of living in town.”
“I’ll get to experience that next year, I reckon.” He traced his fingers around the inside of his waistband. There was a time when he’d lost so much weight I’d worried those pants would fall right off. The habit of pulling his jeans up must’ve stayed as he’d put back on much-needed weight.
Then what he said sank in. “You’re moving into town?”
He nodded. “That new senior housing place, not far from the elementary school.”
I scowled at him. I hadn’t thought of where he’d go. Had I thought he’d sell and then squat on the land like he was part of the deal?
Senior housing.
When had Dad become a senior?
My heartburn redoubled. Goddammit. I took a long pull of my punch, wishing there was a splash of Copper Summit in it. Then chagrin set in. I was wishing for a drink at an alcoholic’s place. Not only that, I myself lived by guidelines when it came to the stuff. I’d have a drink for business and during social events. Never because of emotion. Never .
You’re more like your old man than you thought. You need to get outta here, or you’re going to end up like him. My grandfather’s wheezy words came back to me.
I inhaled, the air like glass. I’d left like he’d said, and here I was, dangerously close to acting like my dad. “It’s time to go, Autumn.”
I started moving before she did. I slid my arm off her shoulder and snagged her hand. Since I’d caught her off guard, she stumbled when I tugged on her. “Gideon?—”
“It’s time to go.”
“But we haven’t eaten.”
“Take some to go.” I continued pulling her toward the door. A band was squeezing around my chest and the air hurt to breathe. I needed to get out of here. Out of the past. Out of the thoughts of how much I was like the one person I had ever counted on, the one person I had worked so damn hard not to be like. I’d toiled all my adult life to stay away from the place where I’d never measured up.
Autumn yanked on my hold. When I turned to frown at her, I caught the way Tate was scooting around his wife, like he was coming to rescue Autumn. I couldn’t keep towing my wife and fighting her and then end up arguing with her family. That wouldn’t work.
I pulled her into me and dropped my mouth to her ear. Her body was rigid and her eyes were full of concern, but also annoyance.
I wasn’t used to irritation from women.
“I need to leave. We can either bicker with your siblings or make up an excuse. I don’t care. I have to leave.”
She searched my expression. Whatever she saw made her relent, but only slightly .
Tate approached us. “Everything okay, Autumn?”
I shot him a glare. I’d make sure Autumn was fucking fine.
“It seems like lunch didn’t agree with Gideon. Stomach cramps,” she whispered loudly.
I’d forgive her for tossing my guts under the bus. I wasn’t behaving like a gentleman.
“The house has a toilet.” Tate’s bluntness wasn’t helpful.
“No telling how long it’ll last or if it’s infectious. We wouldn’t want to spread it.” She patted my forearm. “Hopefully I didn’t pass anything on to him. Lord knows I have a stomach of steel after all my years of teaching. Poor guy. It’s going to hit him hard.”
She was using diarrhea as our reason for leaving—nonexistent diarrhea—and I was admiring her for it.
Tate’s mouth twitched like he knew exactly what his sister was up to. “We’ll send you home with some food.” He twisted. “Chance, give me a hand.”
Autumn
Gideon didn’t talk all the way home. He gave me the keys, and I assumed it was to make it look like he really wasn’t feeling well. But the whole trip, he was on his phone, clicking away.
When he’d first dragged me off, he’d looked green around the gills. Like he’d seen a ghost right after eating bad shrimp. Meanwhile, my stomach had been rumbling up a storm .
My sisters and Scarlett had packed us a ton of food, and Chance had helped them carry it out. Mama had watched the show, but she’d been looking Gideon’s way, her brow furrowed. She must be concerned about him.
I had been too.
Now, I was a little irritated. We’d been home for an hour. He’d ignored the food and was set up at the table on his laptop. He’d called it early on the gathering that was to celebrate us and now he was ignoring me.
I was starving. And I was done waiting for him to interact.
I fixed myself a plate, my stomach growling the whole time. It took everything in me not to ask him if he wanted me to do the same for him. Two could play the ignoring game. I heaped on ham, veggies, Wynter’s fruit salad, and the macaroni salad that I was sure Teller had bought from the grocery store and put into a bowl. I even took all of Mama’s cookie salad.
Not once did Gideon glance up. He didn’t initiate a conversation. He didn’t treat me like I’d want to be treated as a real or fake wife.
I took my food outside and sat on the front stoop. The day was beautiful. A little cool, but I was still wearing the cardigan I had put on over my dress.
The sun was going down, but I chomped down on my food. I needed the crisp, fresh air to chisel away the resentment I was building toward the absurdly gorgeous man in my kitchen. How could he kiss me senseless and then brush me off like I was nothing more than his chauffeur?
Did I want to have his bigheaded, frustrating babies?
My appetite vanished, but I continued to clean my plate. Hank and my family had put a lot into this last-minute celebration and I would honor it.
A boy skidded to a stop on his dirt bike. Large chunks of mud dripped off his tires. It hadn’t rained in a few days, so I could only imagine where he’d found enough mud to skid around in. “Hey, Miss K.”
“Hey, Deon. How’s school going this year?” He’d been my student last year.
“Eh. You know.”
I did. I knew exactly what his teacher was going through. Deon was an active young man. His brain worked almost as fast as his body, which led to a lot of interesting and occasionally infuriating moments. He was a good kid, but if he’d gone to school in a large town, he’d have had a lot of trouble. Thankfully, in Bourbon Canyon, we could be a little more flexible and creative to accommodate active kids with vibrant learning styles.
“Did you have a good long weekend?” I asked.
He shrugged. “My stepdad worked all weekend.”
“That stinks. Does he have to work over the performance?” He was in Scarlett’s class and their performance was a couple of weeks after my class had theirs.
Deon nodded and looked away. He adored his stepdad, but the guy did shift work and couldn’t help his schedule. “My grandma’s coming though.”
I almost said which one. Between his parents and stepparents, Deon had a lot of grandparents. He was a lucky kid. “I’m looking forward to it. You guys have worked so hard.”
He ducked his head again. His brown gaze lifted over my shoulder and his forehead crinkled a moment before the screen door opened. The corner of the door brushed against my back, but I didn’t move.
A wall of heat was between me and the house. I didn’t look up. I picked one of the fudge-striped cookies out of the creamy cookie salad and licked the vanilla pudding and whipped cream mix off.
“Who’s that?” Deon asked, staring at Gideon.
“Uh...” Shit. How did I tell my students? I was bracing myself for work tomorrow, but I’d been anticipating adults.
“The proper way to ask is to introduce yourself first.” Gideon’s tone was almost disapproving.
My defensiveness rose, uncovering my mischievous side. No one messed with my kids, but Gideon did have a point and the teacher in me couldn’t miss a teachable moment.
Deon screwed his face up more. “Huh?”
I put my cookie down. “You say ‘Hi, I’m Deon’ and stick your hand out to shake his.”
The kid eyed me dubiously.
A disgruntled snort came from behind me, and I grinned. Deon was almost as dirty as his bike. The mud streaking up his legs was drying, same with his hands and arms, but there was no way someone was getting out of a handshake unscathed.
“It’s okay. He’ll tell you who he is once he shakes your hand.” I peeked over my shoulder, making my expression as full of censure as possible. “Right?”
Gideon towered over me. His dark gaze was intense and his stance was unyielding. He clenched his jaw once but said, “Right.”
Deon shrugged and laid his bike on the sidewalk. He swaggered across the lawn and up the stairs next to me. He thrust his hand out. “Hi. I’m Deon. Miss K was my teacher.”
I clutched my plate. Would he shake the kid’s hand? Deon was bold but sensitive. If Gideon was rude to my former student, he’d have to sleep on the lawn tonight.
Gideon shook Deon’s hand as if he were a fellow CEO. “Nice to meet you, Deon. I’m Gideon James. Miss K’s husband.”
“No sh—kidding?” Deon’s wide eyes swiveled back and forth between us. “I didn’t know you were married.”
“Surprise,” I said weakly.
His grin spread wide, showing off a missing canine. “Wait—so are you Miss J now?”
“I...” Shit. “Yes? Mrs. J.” I said it slowly, testing the flow. I’d only ever known Miss K, and it wasn’t like I’d had time to rehearse answering to something new.
He jogged back to his bike. The side of my leggings he’d brushed up against was covered in dirt.
“See ya tomorrow, Miss J!”
He rode away. Most kids would drop the missus and call me miss. It was just the different letter I’d have to get used to.
“Why are you eating out here?” His question cut through my contemplation.
“Because the company inside is rude.” I plucked my cookie off my plate and took a bite. I didn’t bother to finish chewing before I spoke. “You were quick to teach Deon about manners, but you sure sucked at them today.” I brandished the portion of the cookie I hadn’t chomped off. “Did it occur to you to share why you ripped me away from a party that was partly for me? That had almost my whole family there? They all showed, with less than a day’s notice, and they even brought food. I ate all the cookie salad, by the way, and I’m not even sorry. You’re not the only one who can be thoughtless.”
His sharp inhale almost made me cringe. Had I gone too far? I didn’t really know this guy. Would he get upset?
“Trust I had my reasons,” he said evenly.
I’d slept in a bed with this man twice. I trusted him with my physical safety. I trusted that he’d do a lot to keep his family’s land from getting sold. But to trust him around my family? With my feelings? That was yet to be earned. “Why don’t you trust me with your reasons?”
Several silent moments ticked by. I ate the rest of my cookie and polished off my plate.
“We each entered into this marriage with our own separate yet related agendas. That doesn’t give you access to everything about me, just as I don’t expect to have access to all of you whenever I want it.”
Ouch. What he was saying was true, but the hurt made my gut twist. I regretted those last few bites.
I wanted kids. I wanted a family. Should I press pause on expecting him to hold up his end of the bargain? I wasn’t sure I could help him with the land anyway, and I didn’t want my kid to have an emotionally unavailable father. Without kids, I could enjoy this little fantasy until Gideon went back to Vegas. Once he was gone, I wouldn’t have a reminder about what a stubborn ass he could be.