Chapter 3 GENEVIEVE
GENEVIEVE
“Genevieve! I’m so glad you’re here.”
I froze as Bryce’s voice hit my back. Shit. So much for my plan to sneak in and out of the apartment today.
My forearms were looped with grocery bags and I was bent over the trunk of my car, retrieving a gallon of milk.
I should have gone to the store first thing this morning instead of waiting until lunch.
Except Isaiah had been up this morning, showering and getting ready for work.
I’d stayed in bed, pretending to be asleep so we wouldn’t have to talk.
When he’d left, I had dragged out my normal routine, listening to the muffled voices drift up from the office below. Everyone at the garage seemed to congregate downstairs in the mornings, drinking coffee for half an hour before finally getting to work.
I’d waited until the chatter had died before tiptoeing down the stairs and racing to my car so no one would notice me. The getaway had been easy. Except I’d gotten caught on the return.
It was Friday, two days after Isaiah and I had married, and I’d barely set foot outside the apartment. Fear had turned me into a recluse. If not for the empty refrigerator and final scoop of coffee grounds, I would have delayed my trip to the store even longer.
I stood, hefting the bags and milk, and turned away from the trunk. Bryce and Dash walked my way. They were both smiling, leaning into one another with their fingers laced. The perfect couple, so happy and so in love. With them around, Isaiah and I would seem exactly like what we were.
Pretenders.
“Hey,” I greeted. “How are you?”
Bryce smiled up at Dash. “Great.”
Dash kissed her forehead. “Got some news to share in the garage.”
They seemed too happy for it to be bad news, but I wasn’t buying it. In the past six weeks, anyone with news had only delivered heartache.
I definitely should have stayed inside.
“I need to run these upstairs.” I nodded to the groceries. “I’ll, uh . . . meet you down there.”
Or lock the door and hide.
“It can wait.” Bryce let go of Dash’s hand, coming to the trunk. She picked up a case of Coke and the last two bags. “I’ll help you carry these up. Lead the way.”
“Oh, um . . .” Double shit.
Isaiah had been sleeping on the couch. He’d stayed the wedding night at the motel, but neither of us wanted to arouse suspicion or rumors, so he’d returned to the apartment. This morning, he’d folded his blanket and stacked it on top of his pillow, but both were on the couch.
Bryce would spot them instantly and know one of us had slept on the sofa.
With my hands full, I couldn’t exactly take the groceries from her. I was about to attempt it though, carrying an entire shopping cartful of bags myself, when a deep voice came from the garage.
“I got it.”
Bryce turned to Isaiah, handing off the Coke and sacks. “Okay, great. See you in a few.”
I forced a tight smile, then headed up the stairs and unlocked the apartment door as Isaiah’s footsteps echoed behind me.
“What’s that about?” he asked, putting the milk in the fridge as I took out the perishables.
“They have news.” I handed him a carton of eggs. “I don’t know what news, but I’m just glad she didn’t come up here.”
We made short work of the groceries, and before going to the garage, I hid Isaiah’s bedding. His maroon blanket got draped over the back of the couch, covering up some of the tan corduroy. The pillow got tossed on the bed with the others, like it had been there all along.
“We have to tell them.” Isaiah stood by the door. “The guys have been asking what’s going on with us. Not often, but enough. I can’t keep grunting or they’ll think I have a brain injury.”
Normally, I would have laughed, but the anxiety was sobering. “Today?”
He dug his ring from his pocket and slipped it on his finger.
Ugh. “Let me get mine.”
I trudged to the bathroom and retrieved my ring from the medicine cabinet, sliding it on my finger. The metal was cool, but it didn’t feel as foreign as it had two days ago. There’d be no more taking it off after today’s announcement.
“All right.” I joined him by the door. “I’m ready.”
“How do you think this is going to go?”
“Not great.”
“Yeah. Me too.” He hung his head. “I’m sorry.”
“So am I.” I gave him a sad smile. “How about we stop apologizing to one another? Neither of us is at fault here. Let’s just stick together and . . . be.”
Some of the worry eased from his face. “I can do that.”
We’d survive this. We’d coexist and bide our time. At some point, the days wouldn’t feel so long and heavy, right?
“We need to look like we’re married,” I said. “Next to Bryce and Dash, everyone will see right through us if we stand three feet apart.”
He held out his elbow. “Let’s go tell everyone you’re Mrs. Reynolds.”
A strange thrill ran through my veins at the name. Was it pride? Or excitement? Terror? Maybe it was a mixture of all three.
I looped my arm through Isaiah’s and my heart stuttered. A tingle shot from my wrist to elbow where his bare skin touched mine. His arm was hot, scorching even, and the heat seeped into my bones.
We stepped outside, connected as we walked down the stairs, and I risked a glance at his profile.
The sun caught the gold flecks in his eyes and their beauty stole my breath.
He was truly mesmerizing, this stranger.
And for the moment, his world was linked to mine.
Another thrill ran the length of my spine.
The more time I spent around Isaiah, the more I caught myself staring. Yesterday, he’d come out of the bathroom only wearing his jeans. I’d been feigning sleep but had sneaked a look as his bare feet padded to the closet.
There were so many defined and honed muscles in his back, my mouth had watered. Even the strength of his forearms was amazing. Holding on to his arm was akin to gripping the steel railing down the apartment’s stairs.
Which was a good thing. I’d need to borrow some of his strength to get through this.
We found everyone in the garage, huddled by the row of toolboxes against the far wall. I dropped Isaiah’s arm to follow him, single file, through the maze of cars and tools. Each of the bays was occupied with a vehicle today. Things in the garage always seemed to be busy.
“So what’s the news?” one of the men asked. Emmett. I was pretty sure his name was Emmett.
He wore a pair of coveralls, the same faded blue as the ones Isaiah had donned yesterday morning over his jeans.
Emmett unzipped them, peeling off the sleeves to reveal two bulky arms covered in tattoos.
The white T-shirt he wore barely contained his barrel of a chest. Then he tied up his shoulder-length dark hair and shared a look with Leo.
Leo was the blond one. I think. None of us had been properly introduced but Isaiah had told me about them. Clearly, they all knew who I was. Leo, like Emmett, was handsome and also sporting some colorful tattoos. He shot me a devilish grin that was pure sex and sin.
I shuffled closer to Isaiah. We were the only two people in the group not smiling.
Come to think of it, I’d never seen Isaiah smile.
Why didn’t he smile? Was that because of our situation? If he was this handsome now, solemn and serious, he’d be godlike with a smile. I wouldn’t mind earning one or two, just to find out.
Dash’s smile faltered when his eyes landed on me. It stung. My half brother hated my existence. He did realize I didn’t exactly have control over who my parents were, didn’t he? That I hadn’t made his father impregnate my mother?
The numb feeling I’d had for weeks settled over my skin, erasing the sting.
None of this would matter. One day, I’d leave this town and this family and never look back.
“Where’s Pres?” Dash asked. “She needs to be here.”
“Coming!” Past Isaiah, Presley was rushing through the door that linked the office and the garage. Behind her was Draven.
Oh, hell. This was not my day. But at least all of them were here and our announcement only had to be made this once. Isaiah and I would rip off the Band-Aid, then I could return to hiding.
Draven came to stand beside me in the circle. I felt his gaze but kept my own on the array of tools hanging on the wall.
I’d met my father for the first time this week, on the day I’d arrived in Clifton Forge.
My mother was buried here. I’d held a memorial service for her in Colorado, but according to her will, she’d wanted to be buried in Clifton Forge. I’d honored her wishes and made the arrangements. On the trip I’d taken to visit her grave, I’d been kidnapped instead.
So when I arrived in town this week after driving from Colorado to Montana, my first stop in Clifton Forge was at the cemetery. Before I did anything else, I wanted to see her resting place. Except fear and loneliness stole my courage. I parked at the cemetery and wasn’t able to get out of my car.
I called Bryce, my new friend.
She met me without hesitation.
Except, these days, where Bryce went, Dash followed. He was worried, for good reason, that the man who’d kidnapped us was on the loose.
Dash came with Bryce to the cemetery. Draven followed.
We had an awkward introduction, at best. Thankfully, Draven didn’t try to hug me or shake my hand. He waved, introduced himself as Draven and said, “Guess I’m your dad.”
Then we stared at one another—until I couldn’t stand the sadness and regret in his gaze any longer and ran back to my car. He hadn’t attempted to contact me since.
Draven cleared his throat and stepped closer.
I inched toward Isaiah until my arm brushed his and I begged the universe for strength.
“So? What’s the news?” Presley asked Dash.
He looked down at Bryce and his smile was blinding. His face was so full of love it made my heart hurt. Never had I seen a man look at a woman that way.
“We got engaged this morning.” Bryce held up her hand.
I smiled, instantly delighted for my friend. She was marrying the love of her life. After our near-death experience, I was glad to see she and Dash weren’t taking life for granted. They deserved a happy day.