Chapter 5
FIVE
Hazel
“This is insane. I can’t believe he’d fucking come out here and suggest it. I should kick his ass for even mentioning it to you.” Curtis looks like a vein might pop in his forehead as he rants from the bathroom doorway before bed, and I just nod my agreement. I glance out the window where the RV is parked in the distance. What else can I say? If his ex-wife appeared and offered the same deal, I’d probably burn something down.
“It is insane,” I say softly. There’s just one problem. “But the alternative could be worse. If he draws out the divorce… It’ll cost me money I don’t have, and I could very well lose the inn and the ranch to him. We’d be out a home. I’d be out a business…”
“You never told me it was still his.” Curtis looks at me like I’ve betrayed him.
“I didn’t know. As part of the divorce settlement, he agreed to pay all the property taxes for five years, so I wasn’t due to take them over until next year. His family accountant was handling it like always.” I’m trying to explain, but I’m embarrassed that I could have missed such a glaring mistake.
My ex-husband occasionally bubbled up as a sore subject whenever we got into a tiff over the way I liked something done around the house, or the occasional comment when he thought I spent too long watching the Queen City Chaos on TV. He definitely wasn’t a fan of the Rampage-Chaos game I attended last year in person—but in my defense, it’s not like Ramsey knew I was there. Besides those little squabbles, we’re pretty good together, and I have no idea how much of a mess this news is going to make of us.
“It seems like a thing that should have come up before now. Our wedding date is only a few months away. Were you going to tell me about him paying the taxes before that?” I’ve never seen Curtis this riled before.
“I don’t know. I suppose if it came up, I would have. I honestly didn’t think you would care. It’s not like it changes anything.” I give him a sheepish shrug. I’ve been so focused on the inn and the improvements we need to make that I’d barely considered the issue myself.
“Well… it does now, doesn’t it?” he mutters.
“Unfortunately,” I mumble in return.
“It’s a nightmare.” He stares into the distance.
“It is,” I agree. I’m not usually in the position of being this wrong about something, and I can confidently say I hate it.
“How is it even possible that you didn’t know you were still married?” His tone belies his otherwise calm demeanor.
I’m desperate to make it clear that I know I fucked up—that I’m trying to fix it. The whole thing makes me sick to my stomach with anxiety. Ramsey could destroy everything important to me with very little effort, and I can’t believe I allowed myself to end up in this position. I’m used to being the one in charge, giving the lectures, and making sure everyone else has things in order. Being on the receiving end of this makes me feel like the walls of this ranch house are closing in on me, stealing my breath and suffocating me. I’m half tempted to make a run for the stables to take a late-night ride.
“I thought I filed the paperwork. After the divorce, everything was such a mess. I was just trying to tread water and keep things going around here. It never came up as a question. But I remember the day I sent it. I know I sent it,” I insist.
I’d been terrified to file the paperwork. I talked myself into and out of getting in the car and taking it to the post office half a dozen times, but then, on the seventh try, I grabbed my keys and charged ahead. Drove the whole way with my hands shaking. Opened the creaky, blue metal door to the mailbox with the rust patch on the upper left corner that I stared at for long minutes before I slipped the manila envelope inside. Even when my heart still hurt. When my lungs burned from the crying. Even though it felt like I was going to die without him.
So I know I sent it.
“So you sent it and what, they just never filed it?” His question snaps me out of the memory.
“I guess? Or they never received it. That’s what they’re claiming.”
“You never checked to make sure?” His questions feel like accusations.
“No. I sent it. That was the big thing. We signed on the dotted line. The divorce was uncontested. We didn’t even involve lawyers. Just us agreeing, signing, and me sending it in. I didn’t think to check. I assumed as long as we did our part, they’d do theirs.”
Curtis shakes his head and glances at me, his face twisted with scorn. I’m not sure whether it’s for me, Ramsey, or both of us .
“If you’d changed your name or done anything else at all, it would have come up.”
“I know. I should have.” I have a feeling that’s going to be an even bigger regret once Ramsey realizes I never went back to Briggs.
“You should have,” he repeats.
“It seemed like more work than it was worth. I just wanted to forget everything, not spend more time on it.”
“Well… I’m sure you feel differently now.” He says it without malice, but it still cuts. “Fighting this will cost a fortune.”
“I have no idea where we’ll get the money.” I shake my head, trying not to cry. I don’t want to give any more tears to Ramsey Stockton.
“My parents won’t be able to loan us anything else. They’ve put in all they can for the wedding, so we’ll just have to cancel it. Or push it out. I don’t even know how I’ll tell them. It’s a disaster.” Curtis’s forehead furrows with the thought.
I haven’t even met his parents yet. They’re always on one trip or another on the other side of the world, but they’re supposed to spend the holidays with us this year to finalize wedding plans. Kit and I had already started planning for their visit. It’s just mortifying to know they’ll have this kind of impression of me before I even get to know them.
“I know. I’m still hoping I can come up with a plan. Sometimes sleeping on it means having a better idea in the morning.” I try to reach out for his hand but he turns his back to me, tucking the sheet tight around his shoulders.
“Yeah. Maybe,” he mutters.
My heart sinks. I’ll be lucky to keep any of our plans. A divorce could take months, over a year if he makes it particularly messy—and he already promised he would. I know the man well enough to know he’s just stubborn enough to hold to his conditions.
The next morning we’re finishing breakfast when Curtis sets his phone aside and looks up at me. His eyes wander over me thoughtfully before he speaks.
“I think you should do it,” he says flatly, like it’s a business decision.
“What?” I’m caught off guard.
I expected the anger from last night to boil over to today. I figured we’d have to spend a few more hours hashing out the pros and cons of the options in front of us. I spent the night wide awake working my way up to the idea of being Ramsey’s wife again, at least temporarily, but I thought I’d have to convince Curtis it’s our best option. The outright refusal and the misplaced rage yesterday all made sense, but this quiet resignation knocks me off-kilter.
“I’ve thought about it, and I just think we don’t have another choice. We need the ranch free and clear of him, and we need the refinancing to go through to keep it going.”
“About that…” I say softly.
He looks up at me, confusion marring his face, and his brow lifts in question.
“He’d give us the money.” I didn’t tell him that part last night. The entire proposal felt dirty enough without adding the money to the mix.
“The money for the refinance?”
“And then some. A million.” I practically whisper the words.
“Why?” His brow furrows like he can’t make sense of it, and the reaction pricks .
“You don’t think I’m worth it?” It’s a stupid thing to say. I’m starting another argument when we haven’t finished this one. We already have enough problems to fuel them for the next two months straight. I see the flicker of irritation over his face.
“I’m just asking why he’d do it.” Curtis’s tone turns irritated.
“I don’t know why he’s doing any of this.” Other than the possibility of the obvious, but I can’t believe it.
“Don’t be na?ve. He’s an egotistical prick used to always getting his way. He wants you back, and this place too, or to at least prove he can have it if he wants it.” His temper flares, but he tamps it down almost as quickly, reaching out and cupping my cheek. “But I know you’re smarter than that, and I know what we have is better than anything you had with him, so I’m not worried. If you doing this gets you everything debt free with a bonus…” He shrugs and presses his lips together like it’s a painful reality we need to confront. “I feel like we have to seriously consider it.”
“I’m surprised that’s your reaction. I really thought you’d be dead set against this.”
“You know how I feel about things like this. The wedding. The inn business. Your ex. It doesn’t make sense to be anything other than pragmatic. Besides, he gets you and this place for ninety days. I get you and all of this for the rest of my life. Ten years from now, three months won’t matter.” He takes a long sip of his coffee.
He’s right about that. He’s pragmatic about everything. The opposite of my ambitious daydreams and wild ideas. Always keeping me grounded in reality and making sure I’m thinking about the bigger picture and things like finances and budgets and reality. Something Ramsey never even tried to do. He was as much a dreamer as me. We just were in the unfortunate position of having dreams that ran in different directions—his to Ohio and mine here.
“I guess that’s true. In ten years, none of this will matter. But it’s… You realize that he wants me in his bed, doing a lot more than just sleeping in it. You don’t feel like it’s cheating?” We’ve danced around the heart of this conversation since last night. We’ve discussed the inn, the ranch, him staying in the house and how much easier it’ll make the divorce go if we just play along. But we haven’t discussed the fact that Ramsey was very specific in his request.
“It can’t be cheating if you’re telling me about it and I’m agreeing to it. More like a hall pass. One that gets us a three-thousand-acre ranch, your inn, and apparently an extra million for you to renovate it like you want.”
“But it’s a hall pass I don’t want,” I add, because I feel like I have to. For myself as much as him. Especially after the preview I got already. I can’t deny the fact that my ex-husband is attractive, but I could remind myself that it came with so many downsides, it ruined everything beautiful about him.
Curtis looks up at me thoughtfully, studying my face.
“If you feel like he’s forcing you or he’s unsafe and you don’t want to do this, tell me. I don’t want to be party to anything that makes you uncomfortable.” His brows slant down in a deep frown.
“He won’t force himself on me.” I shake my head. That much I know about Ramsey.
Well, he won’t use force without permission is probably the more accurate way of putting it. Not that I’m about to share that tidbit with Curtis. Ramsey knows some of my darkest fantasies, ones I’ve never shared with Curtis, and I don’t feel like now is a great time to illuminate that particular discrepancy .
“You trust him?” Curtis asks, noticing the way I’m lost in thought again.
“He respects me. He still loves my family even if we don’t love each other. I’m not worried about him hurting me or forcing me or anything like that.” I hurry to recover.
Ramsey broke my heart, but he’d never risk breaking my spirit. I’d still trust the man with my life, even if I do hate him with every bone in my body.
“But you’re worried?”
“He’s a force of nature. He comes in like a hurricane and leaves everything in his wake a path of destruction. I don’t want him to make a mess of this place or a mess of us,” I explain as Curtis takes my hands in his own.
“He won’t make a mess of us. If anything, he’s helping us—right? You’ll have this place to yourself, finally. Plus, you’ll have the money to upgrade the rooms and fix up the stables like you wanted.”
I raise my brow at him as I lean back and sip my tea. It’s my turn to study him because I can’t help the little bubble of apprehension in my gut. The little voice telling me no man is this accommodating, even with these kinds of stakes. Especially not any man who’s seen my ex.
“What?” he asks after a long minute.
“I just can’t believe you’re so unbothered by this. If this was reversed and your ex wanted you to go back to acting like you’re still together, I’d be furious. I’d never be okay with it.” I’d consider stabbing her for even suggesting it.
“I don’t love the idea, Hazel. Obviously, I don’t like the idea of someone else touching you. But I can only imagine what a prolonged, messy divorce will do to your mental health and our finances. Not to mention our chances of getting married sooner rather than later. Plus, like I said… he’s a fucking loser. No job. No home. Fresh out of prison. It’s not like I have to worry about yo u falling for someone like that.” Curtis laughs; it’s haughty and dismissive. He gives a sharp shake of his head like Ramsey’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever taken the time to consider.
I feel the zip of it in my veins—a rumble of anger and defensiveness. One’s I shouldn’t feel, given the position Ramsey has me in. But then he was part of me whether I liked it or not. Long before Ramsey was mine, he was part of my family. My brother’s best friend. Always at our house to escape the complications at home—ironic since his family had money and mine had none. But my family loved him. Hard. Even after our divorce when my brother and Ramsey grew distant, they were still the first people to cheer for him on the screen against the home team. We all still watched the verdict of his trial on TV with our breath held tight in our chests, hoping for the best. Like any good family, it’s one of those things where if I want to talk shit about him—that’s one thing, but I’ll go down swinging against anyone else who has a bad word to say.
But right now, I have to hold it in. I don’t want Curtis to think there’s anything more than a business decision being made here—one I’m making under duress.
“And you’re okay not being here with me during that time?” I ask because I’m not sure he’s thought through all the implications of this arrangement.
“Sure. I’m going to be in Vegas for that training for most of the time anyway. When I come back those couple of weekends, I can rent a hotel.” His eyes light up and turn back on me. “Maybe you can sneak away and come meet me there. We can pretend like we’re having an affair.” He grins playfully, and I can tell he’s trying to make the best of this. I smile despite the literal truth of his statement reverberating in my head, but something about his casualness has me feeling uneasy.
“You’re really not worried about me sleeping with him? ”
His grin turns into a smirk. “Not after what you told me about him not being able to get you off.”
My eyes dart to my phone and I clear my throat.
“Be serious though. It won’t bother you that I’m kissing him? Sleeping with him?” I press. I don’t want to do this to save the inn and lose Curtis in the process.
“We saw other people when we were first dating. How’s this any different?”
“Because we’re about to be married.” I try not to let the irritation through in my tone. I don’t want to start any more fights with him.
“And we still will be.”
“Are you going to sleep with other people then?” The thought hits me like bricks—after all, he’ll be in Vegas. What better place to be on a break from your fiancée.
“I don’t know. It seems like the hall pass should work both ways.” He shrugs like it’s nothing but it feels like a brick slamming into my chest.
“But I don’t want a hall pass, and if I had one, I wouldn’t use it on Ramsey Stockton.” I protest. I can think of three movie stars and one singer who would all be in line ahead of him. But knowing he’d still be on the list—even if it would be a hate fuck—is a little unsettling to realize. I’d have to confront that ugly little truth later.
“If you tell me you’re not comfortable with it, I can respect that. Although it does seem a little unfair.” His mouth sets in a grim line and he tilts his head to the side like he’s considering which apple to pick at the grocery store rather than the boundaries of our engagement.
“I’m not comfortable with it,” I answer firmly, and his eyes meet mine.
“Okay.” There’s a resignation in the way he looks at me, but it’s an uneasy one .
“Does that change how you feel?” I ask. I want more from him, more fight, more thoughts—more anything really, but he seems at peace with this.
“I trust you, baby. You tell me you’re okay with this, that it’s what you want to do to make this easier and get his help fixing up the inn, then I’m good. I know who you’re walking down the aisle to.” He rubs his hand over the back of mine. “Not to mention, I know it’s me you’ll be imagining and missing anyway.”
Apparently, I’ve underestimated Curtis’s ego, and he’s underestimated Ramsey.