Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Did you prepare your own vows?” Beckett asked, stone-faced as usual, but his raised brows were a clear indication that he still wasn’t on board with this sham of a wedding. His attention skated from Jesse to Ella, where they stood inside the white gazebo in the backyard at her parents’ ranch. The structure had been transformed into a luminous fairy-tale palace with hundreds of tiny white Christmas lights and flowers in varying shades of blush. The temperature had dropped significantly after dark, and if she weren’t such a hot mess on the inside, she’d be freezing in her sleeveless wedding gown.
Vows? Beckett was asking for . . . what? Am I going to faint?
Ella chanced a look at the crowd seated in white chairs outside the gazebo surrounded by portable heaters. Her parents were in the front row on the bride’s side. Jesse’s family in the front on the other side. Delighted whispers of aww and ooh floated through the air. Handkerchiefs were out, blotting tears.
And Ella could barely look at the man standing across from her, the man she was fake marrying, without Ana’s words coming to mind. Vows before God and family made it real.
People were going to think she was about to pull a “runaway bride” in a minute if she kept looking everywhere but at the groom.
She shot a nervous glance toward A.J., Chris, and Griffin, all handsome if not slightly uncomfortable in their suits, standing off to Jesse’s side. Then she peered over at Rory, Savanna, and Ana at her right. Vows? All eyes were on her, waiting for her to speak. What was I thinking? She was going to be sick.
Maybe it wasn’t too late? She could go into hiding instead. Let Jesse track down this Zoran-whatever-his-name-was. Forget the vows. Forget this whole fake wedding op. Forget Paris.
Ella’s hands felt like ice, and her body trembled as anxiety began to overwhelm her.
“I can go first.” Jesse’s deep voice rang out clear and confident.
Ella dragged in a breath and lifted her gaze to see his blue eyes pinned to her face.
He’d somehow managed to find time for a trim—the sides of his blond, nearly brown hair, were now neat and tight, and the top had been left slightly longer and gelled. He looked like a cover model for a Rochella magazine.
This isn’t real. No, not real.
Jesse reached out and took her trembling hands between his big, warm palms.
Oh, God. What would he say? How great of an actor was he? She supposed she was about to find out.
Jesse gently squeezed her hands. “I’ve always known you were the one, Ella Mae. There’s never been anyone but you,” he said slowly. “You were with me in Iraq even though you didn’t know it. I had your picture with me. Always. Yours was the first face I looked at when I woke and the last face I saw before going to sleep.”
Her stomach fluttered, and her chest grew tight as she listened to his performance. Why was he doing this to her? Why not just stick to the traditional vows?
Unless . . . he wasn’t acting?
The tears that threatened to spill from her eyes weren’t for show, that was for sure.
“You’ve always had my heart,” he continued, turning his attention to the engagement ring on her finger.
Jesse had passed it along to Rory to give to Ella an hour ago. He’d chosen the heart-shaped diamond when he bought their wedding bands, but for some reason hadn’t been able to present it to her himself.
Maybe because in the years since New York, her knee-jerk reaction when it came to that man was to push him away out of fear he’d just keep hurting her. Maybe he’d become as scared of rejection as she was, especially now that he’d shared his dark past?
“My heart has been with you whether I was overseas or at home,” Jesse went on, his voice full of emotion. “It’s always been with you. I’ve always loved you, and I always will. No matter what.” Those last three words made her heart ache. Was the “no matter what” his way of letting her know there’d always be some sort of roadblock preventing them from being together?
She’d quickly latched on to a thread of hope as he spoke his vows, but with those three little words, he’d crushed that hope beneath his boot.
“I, Jesse Edward McAdams, promise to protect and love you until death do us part.” She wasn’t sure if it was the surrounding lights shining on them that made his eyes look glossy or if this strong man was on the verge of tears.
Ella felt Beckett’s gaze on her, so she glanced at him for a moment before turning her attention toward Jesse.
This handsome, dangerous man standing there in his dashing tux, staring back at her, took her breath away. She was so incredibly in love with him that it physically hurt on a level she couldn’t explain, let alone comprehend.
“Ella,” Beckett prompted when she’d yet to open her mouth. The words were stuck somewhere in the hellish limbo she felt trapped in at the moment—the fine line between the truth of how she felt and the lie of what this moment was supposed to be. “I can tell you what to say if you need me to.”
“I can do this,” Ella whispered, her insides churning at the way Jesse watched her. “I mean, I have my own vows,” she clarified.
Jesse squeezed her hands again and gave her a slight nod. I’ve got you, he mouthed.
You have me now, but what about later? A few tears cut down her cheeks as her emotions nearly swallowed her whole. “I’m standing before the man I’ve loved from the moment I learned that feeling could extend beyond family.” This was too hard. She couldn’t say everything she truly felt without breaking down in front of everyone. She’d have to cut this short. “You’ve always had my heart. I gave it to you long ago. And no matter what, you’ll have it until the day I die.”
Jesse clenched his jaw as if the idea of her dying before him had him hanging on by a thread. But he’d also understood the meaning of her no matter what, too—she was sure of it.
Beckett resumed the ceremony, and she repeated the traditional vows as prompted, but everything up to the moment he told them to kiss was a blur.
“Kiss your wife,” someone called out to hoots of laughter among the guests when neither Jesse nor Ella made a move after Beckett proclaimed them husband and wife.
The one and only time they’d kissed had nearly destroyed her with its intensity. They’d need to take this one down several notches and definitely with no tongue. Hopefully, Jesse was on the same page as her.
Her “husband” slowly stepped forward, placed a firm hand on her back, and pulled her body flush to his. She told herself to breathe before she passed out from lack of oxygen when he tipped her chin up with his index finger and looked into her eyes. A silent thought seemed to pass between them . . . What did we just do?
Ella closed her eyes and waited for his kiss. The moment their lips touched, she arched her back and leaned into his embrace, unable to stop it from happening.
The kiss was slow and sensual, seeping into every fiber of her being and had her feeling far too much. She set her hands to his chest, willing herself to push a little to let him know to stop, that it was unbearable to kiss him any longer and not fall apart . . .
But instead, she found herself sliding her hands up the hard planes of muscle to cup the back of his neck, drawing him closer.
It was Jesse who broke the kiss, and the look in his eyes before he dropped his focus to the floor nearly gutted her.
Regret?
But exactly which part of all of this did he regret?
“Just leave me alone. Please.” Ella hurried down one of the horse trails and away from the party as quickly as possible, freezing even though she’d swapped her beautiful wedding gown for a simple, ankle-length, white satin dress with long sleeves after her first dance with Jesse.
“Ella Mae, damn it. Would you stop running from me!” Jesse called out, catching up to her with quick strides even though he didn’t need to run to close the distance between them. “It’s not safe to be roaming the ranch right now. You’re acting crazy.”
“I’ve been roaming this property since I was a kid,” she yelled without looking back to check how close he was. The tree line was on approach, and she wasn’t that out of her mind to go into the woods at night, so she’d have to stop and face him soon. “And you have security here. I’m fine.”
“We don’t have enough people to manage the perimeter of the entire ranch. Now stop right now, or?—”
“Or what?” She stopped and abruptly swiveled around, her labored breathing and quick movements warming her up at least. Her frustration with this man dialed up her temperature a few degrees as well.
Jesse halted six or so feet away, hands in the air as though trying to calm a startled horse from bolting. “It’s too dangerous for you to be away from the team.” His gaze darted to the woods just behind her, then he swept his attention around them, obviously checking for something. Or someone. “You need to go back to the well-lit party.”
“Well-armed, you mean.”
“You’ll also freeze to death out here.” He removed his jacket and started her way, but her gaze immediately went to the weapon holstered at his hip.
“You wore a gun to our wedding?” She wasn’t sure why she was so shocked. There was a bad guy who might know her name, after all.
“Of course I did. Now put this on, and let’s go.” He draped the jacket over her shoulders, and she gave in to its warmth even though she wanted to be stubborn and protest. The smell that was uniquely Jesse, along with his cologne, dominated her senses when she took in a deep breath.
“And I’m not the crazy one, by the way,” she said. “ You certainly looked borderline insane when I danced with Henry though.”
“You should have said no when he asked,” Jesse barked out.
“Say no to the man who is giving me a dream opportunity?” She arched a brow in challenge. “‘Thanks, but I can’t. My fake husband doesn’t want me enough for himself but also doesn’t like to share.’”
“You and that sassy mouth. Do you have any idea how close I came to . . .” He let the threat go. “My patience when it comes to you around other men isn’t something I suggest you test.” His clipped tone rang out like a shot in the air since they were a good distance away from the sounds of music and voices at the party.
Pissed at him for overselling his lovey-dovey performance all evening, she said, “Surprised Brian’s still alive, then. You said in my studio you would’ve killed him if he’d hurt me, but maybe you would’ve used any old excuse to do it.”
Jesse inched closer and brought his mouth to her ear as if worried the owls or night critters would overhear. “You’re right,” he seethed. “Would you like to know how many times Brian came close to dying?” He cupped her arm over the jacket. “But I didn’t want to hurt you by killing him, so he’s still breathing.”
“You’re not a cold-blooded killer.” She didn’t buy whatever story he was trying to sell. Another attempt to push her away, more like it. “I didn’t love Brian, and you know that. Didn’t wish death upon him either.”
He released her and stepped back but remained quiet.
“So, thank you for not killing him,” she added in case she was wrong, and Jesse hadn’t been bluffing about wanting to murder Brian. “Rory would hate to visit her brother in jail. And I would?—”
“You’d what?” he cut her off, his anger at her for “putting herself in danger” by taking off still evident. If it weren’t for the nearby lights along the trail, she’d be unable to see his broody expression.
“Forget it,” she bit out. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be angry. There was a reason I took off.” He’d distracted her with his alpha behavior, and she hated that it turned her on. “You have been screwing with my head all night. All flipping night. That’s why I needed to leave. To have a second alone before I clocked you clean across the jaw.”
“How exactly have I been screwing with your head, darling?” He scoffed as if she were the crazy one. His focus kept moving around, clearly nervous about them being so far from the party out in the dark.
Ella looked toward the woods, her shoulders dropping. “We shouldn’t be here,” she caved when the rational side of her brain took over. “But you’re why I’m acting irrationally . Not level-headed.” He went to her side and reached for her elbow, but she shifted from his reach. “The vows. The songs you selected. The way you’ve been putting on a show for the last two hours in front of the guests.” Tears welled in her eyes, and she knew she needed to get the cowboy boots she’d swapped her heels for to move, but she was stuck in place. Irrational again. “Are you a hitman or an actor? Because you seem to have talents I’ve been unaware of my entire life.”
Those sweet and kind vows had been a knife to her heart. And then Chase Rice’s “Eyes on You,” followed by Brett Young’s “In Case You Didn’t Know” for his song choices for their first two dances just twisted the blade even deeper.
“I hate you for this,” she cried.
Jesse’s mouth fell open, and his attention swung back to her. “ This ?” He held up his left hand and pointed at the wedding ring. “ This was your idea. I sure as hell didn’t want to do it. If I had my way, you’d be locked up somewhere safe.” He waved a hand toward the woods. “Not out in the open in danger. Not going to Paris as my wife.”
“Fake wife,” she rasped the reminder, more for herself than for him. “And you and I both know I’m in danger whether we’re married or not, but if this ‘wedding’ lures the bastard out sooner rather than later, then we can part ways that much faster, which seems to be your preference.”
She threw a hand in the air and stomped closer, his jacket almost falling from her shoulders. Here they were, out in the darkness, him in his tux and her in a fitted white dress parading around as Mr. and Mrs. McAdams. And she was seconds away from losing her mind.
She slapped a palm to his chest, surprised to find his heartbeat out of control. “You’re the one always running from me. You ran off to the Army. Then you kept re-enlisting. Then you ran to the CIA. And now Falcon. Always going every which way but to me.” Tears glided down her cheeks. “And the only crazy thing about me is that I keep thinking things will change. That you’ll finally stop running. Or, at least, you’ll run toward me for once.”
She sniffled, and Jesse surprised her by swiping the pads of his thumbs beneath her eyes, his head angled, studying her.
“You’re perfectly okay with having sex with me, but is that it? Is that all you’ll ever allow to happen?”
Jesse’s mouth set in a tight, grim line. Maybe that was the blow that finally woke him up.
“You really do hate me, don’t you?” His voice was low, almost inaudible.
She squeezed her eyes closed, hating that she was fighting with him on their wedding day, regardless if it wasn’t real. “Maybe I don’t hate you,” she confessed, her shoulders falling in defeat. If only she could hang on to her anger and truly hate him, it’d help her move on. “But I don’t think I can trust you not to hurt me again.”
He was quiet for a moment, the wind rustling through the trees the only sound around them. Ella breathed in the cold night air and sighed. When Jesse’s hand slid along her hip beneath his jacket, she opened her eyes.
“Stop. This is why I am so angry, Jesse. The hot and cold behavior.”
“Seems to me that’s the only way you and I know how to be when we’re around each other. We’re either angry or aroused. And anger more often than not leads to arousal.” Well, hell, that’s exactly what she’d been thinking for years. “We need to meet in the middle, don’t you think?”
“Define middle.” She tipped her head to the side, waiting for him to reveal more.
“I’m not sure if ‘happy’ is quite the middle, but it’s a place I’d sure like to be.” He looked to the ground for a moment. “With you.”
Happy?
He worked his attention back to her face, and she sealed her eyes closed.
“Ella, look at me, please,” he said, softer this time. “I know you’re mad. And tonight was . . . hard. I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re in this situation.” His pause had her opening her eyes. “But I wasn’t acting.”
She shook her head, anger fighting its way back into her heart at his words, which was most likely not what he’d expected to happen. “Don’t you dare give me hope, Jesse McAdams. Don’t you dare.”
She shoved his hand from her hip, and he backed up a step. “Ella Mae.”
“Don’t Ella Mae me. Don’t say anything.” She swiped the backs of her hands over her cheeks, trying to remove the traitorous tears. “And don’t tell me there really was a photo you kept of me in Iraq. Or that you gave me this”—she lifted her hand to show the heart-shaped diamond ring—“because I’ve always had your heart even when you were gone.” She turned toward the woods and palmed her forehead, her body shaking. “Maybe it won’t be tomorrow. Or the day after. But the day will come when you cut and run. It’s as inevitable as death.” She was close to her breaking point, her heart teetering perilously on the edge of despair, and she didn’t want him to witness that. “Happy is a place you’ll only steal from me.”
When he remained quiet, she slowly turned to face him, finding he’d closed the distance yet again.
“You wrecked me. Destroyed me long before tonight. And now I have this chance to go to Paris and finally get you out of my head, and we’re going as husband and wife. God hates me. He must really hate me.” Her voice gave out, and her knees nearly did as well.
“I don’t know what to say,” he whispered.
She squeezed that frustrating lump down her throat. “Maybe that’s because there’s nothing left to say. Maybe we’re both broken, and we can only ever exist together in that world of anger. Or the one of lust.”