Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
T he first time Lucy had been kissed by Joel, she’d been drunk. They both had been. And not just the tipsy, one-too-many-kinds-of-cocktails drunk, but the zero inhibitions, shit-faced drunk that she’d never been before and hadn’t been since.
One moment they’d been celebrating a win at a blackjack table in Vegas, and the next they’d woken up, spooned in a hotel bed, the mother of all hangovers pounding in her head and a gift shop wedding ring on her finger. Her biggest regret was having very few detailed memories of that night, but she did remember the first instant his lips had touched hers.
They’d met by chance at a Builders of the Future conference in Vegas. Joel had taken her to dinner, and they’d spent a perfect evening talking over decadent food and expensive wine. When dinner ended, Joel had asked what she wanted to do, and already tipsy on the cabernet, she’d said dancing. They’d strolled the strip until they stumbled upon a club blaring music and a dance floor with strobe lights inside. They danced and drank for another couple of hours until Lucy told Joel it was his turn to pick an activity.
He’d taken her to the Bellagio, where he’d been staying. They’d found themselves in a private room, at a blackjack table, a Scotch in his hand and a martini in hers. Every time he rolled, Joel asked her to blow on his dice for luck. They’d laughed and joked, and before she knew it, he’d swooped her up in his arms because he’d won. She didn’t remember how much money or how much he’d bet before he’d won it, because as soon as his lips landed on hers, everything else fell away.
At first, they’d yanked apart, shocked apologies falling from their lips. They’d stood wide-eyed with chests heaving. Out of nowhere he’d said, “Fuck, I should’ve done that years ago” at the same time as she’d said, “Do it again.” And then they were kissing ferociously.
The kiss now, in front of thirty people, in his sister’s backyard garden gender-reveal party was much the same. Joel devoured her like he was starving. Another inappropriate kiss at an inappropriate time, but she couldn’t bring herself to push him away. Not after everything he’d just said. Not when her emotions were scattered all over the place, and the only thing anchoring her to sanity was him. It didn’t even matter that the engagement wasn’t real. It didn’t matter that he’d likely exaggerated most of what he’d said. All that mattered was that he was here, holding her, his pulse thrumming frantically against hers, like they were having a conversation in heartbeats.
Somewhere in the crowd, came a deep clearing of a throat. A hum of murmurs followed, buzzing into her consciousness.
“Mom?” A little girl’s voice cut through everything, jolting her back to reality. “Uncle Joel had his tongue in her mouth. He didn’t even use any hand sanitizer.”
Lucy tore her mouth away from Joel’s, setting her palms firmly against his pecs as a barrier between them. His chest rose and fell as he caught his breath. His gaze was lit with a flammable kind of desire, and she recalled how that look had her flat on her back within seconds, once upon a time.
“Well then.” Hope’s voice cut through the garden. “Congratulations to the happy couple. Can’t wait to hear all the details, big brother.”
For a moment so brief that Lucy wasn’t sure it even happened, she caught the shock of truth in his eyes. Those steely grays were wild and chaotic, a maelstrom of emotions so very unlike Joel. With a slow blink, his familiar mask of restraint fell over his features, shuttering anything she thought she might have seen. The composed businessman was back in control.
He gave his sister a curt nod, signaling the end of this portion of the party. The guests immediately went back to chattering amongst themselves, happily moving on from the display they’d just witnessed. Lucy marveled again at his ability to control a room with one look alone. He held such power, and most of the time, he didn’t even realize it. His presence demanded obedience, but he lacked the arrogance of a bully, maintaining respect by staying humble. So much like his father, Lucy thought as she turned her gaze to Walter Morgan.
The older man stood by his wife near the back of the garden, watching her and Joel with an unreadable expression on his face.
Walter Morgan had always treated her well. He’d treated her entire family like an extension of his, inviting them to important events, remembering birthdays, sending her flowers when she graduated college. Over the years, she’d acquired a deep respect for him and felt she earned his in return with her work ethic and dedication to family.
Knowing that she was deceiving him this way sat uneasily in her chest. He’d never cheated his way to anything. That sense of integrity he shared with her father was too deeply engrained. Guilt nudged her.
“I have to say, Joel, I never thought I’d see the day.” Ivy appeared beside them. Petite and fine featured, her pale skin looked extra translucent against her raven-colored hair cut short to brush her neckline. “I mean, I won’t say I wasn’t surprised. I was, but…” Her pale-blue eyes scanned Lucy from head to toe, as if trying to size her up. “I’ll withhold my judgment until after the party.”
“Party?” Lucy echoed.
Ivy smiled devilishly. “Oh hell yes, a party. No engagement is truly official until it’s been posted online or there’s been a party. Since I know Joel doesn’t have any social media accounts, we’ll have to settle for a party. How long are you in town, Lucy? We should throw it before you leave, and more importantly, before Hope pops out the latest Walsh descendant.”
Lucy cocked her head toward Joel, who was shooting an exasperated look at Ivy. “You don’t have a single account?” She should have known, since she’d run his name through every social media search available in the Webiverse, and yet for a man of his level of achievement, she was surprised. When she’d come up empty-handed, she’d figured he’d blocked her. She never considered that he had no online presence. That just seemed absurd.
He shrugged. “The Morgan Construction PR team runs our social media accounts, I think. What would I need one for? ”
“I don’t know,” Lucy said, still incredulous. “To promote your business using your personal platform, show off your latest vacay destinations, get followers by sharing pictures of your ripped abs as you lounge on your couch in your Morgan Construction penthouse? Tons of reasons.”
Joel snorted. “You don’t get followers because of your abs.”
“Yes, you do,” Sean said in his raspy baritone as he came up beside Ivy.
All eyes swiveled his way, and it was his turn to shrug.
“My regular Monday Muscles posts bring in new followers each week, and some of those buy memberships for my gym or my online fitness programs. I’ve even received requests for collaborations with different companies in the fitness industry that way—protein shakes, athletic gear, that kind of thing.” He shrugged the boulder of his shoulders again. “Lucy’s right. People love that kind of shit.”
Everyone continued staring at Sean. Lucy couldn’t speak for the others, but she was going to cyberstalk him when she got home. She wanted to see the abs in question, for the sake of curiosity, of course.
“My abs won't bring in customers in the same way,” Joel commented.
“Why wouldn’t they? They certainly measure up.” The second the words left her mouth, Lucy kicked herself for speaking without thinking. But she couldn’t help herself, she remembered Joel’s abs all too well.
“I mean…” What did she mean? She meant what she said. Crap. She hated putting her foot in her mouth. “You have nice abs, that’s all,” she muttered, staring at her toes.
“Okay, now that I have that uninvited image in my brain, let’s lock down the engagement party next Saturday at Bowie’s, 7 p.m. I’ll confirm with Gabe that the space can be cleared, and then I’ll send an email.” Ivy spoke like she’d been Lucy’s bosom buddy for years, and not like they’d just met.
Lucy considered the circle of friends. They’d come here for Gabe and Hope’s family, but were now celebrating Joel and her without blinking an eye.
She could get used to this kind of immediate love and acceptance. Deep inside her another kernel of understanding grew as to why Joel now spent more time in Portland than San Francisco.
Back home, his life was all business and work. Here, he was surrounded by friends who loved him for who he was and were genuinely excited for his news, no matter how shocking it might have been. That was a very special thing.
“What’s your number?” Ivy regarded her expectantly, phone in hand. “I’ll need to reach you since it’s partially your party. You probably have relatives who’ll want to attend, so I’ll need contacts. You can stay until next Saturday, right?”
Things were shifting so quickly, her mind whirled. Her long overdue, two-week vacation had turned into a two-week wedding planning, fake engagement, party-hardy extravaganza. How had her life gotten so out of control?
All she wanted was to run her family’s company when her father retired in six months, and keep the business thriving. Now she was involved in—and distracted by— planning a party for her fake engagement.
Numbly, she rattled off her number, and Ivy typed it into her phone.
“Great.” Ivy shoved her phone back in her bag. “I’ll be in touch. We’ll need to meet to go over details, which is easy since you’re staying across the hall from me while you’re here. ”
“Uh.” Lucy shot a glance at Joel, who was watching her with that odd glint in his eye that she’d caught earlier. A swirl of unidentifiable emotion. Quickly averting her gaze, she went with the truth, lest the lies pile up so high she lost track of them. “I’m staying with my aunt.”
Unfortunately, at the same moment she spoke, Joel said, “She’s staying with me.”
Ivy blinked, and Lucy felt her face warm. Crap, crap, crap. They’d forgotten to discuss this. Served her right for not devising a strategic plan on this Hail Mary of an idea.
“Well, while you guys figure it out, I’ll be in touch by text.”
Ten minutes later, and after several awkward congratulations by well-meaning strangers, Lucy was finally back in Joel’s car. She slumped against her seat and let out a long breath.
As soon as Joel rounded to the driver’s side and got in she said, “I don’t know if we can pull this off.”
He started his Porsche with the push of his finger. “Pull what off?”
She glared at him. “ This , Joel. A fake engagement, a fake wedding. A fake party. A fake marriage.”
“Our marriage is real, Lucy, and has been since that neon chapel in Vegas.” Smoothly, he pulled away from the curb and onto the quiet residential street.
Frustration bubbled in her throat, tasting bitter. “Is it, Joel? Is living separate lives, in different cities, without a soul knowing the truth, considered an actual marriage these days? Because if so, then we’re killing it.”
He glanced at her, then back at the road. When they were together, they hadn’t fought often. But when they did, this was how it went. She lost her temper and her voice elevated, loudly. Joel replied calmly or more often remained silent. Which only riled her more. Infuriating man!
“I don’t understand you sometimes. To the rest of the world, you’re the perfect person everyone depends on. You have your shit together at all times. You’re not supposed to have a secret wife no one knows about that you’re too loyal to divorce. Is this what you envisioned when you thought of yourself as married? Not talking to each other and keeping secrets from the people we love.”
Joel’s gaze remained fixed on the road. Not even the damn muscle in his jaw ticked this time.
It only amped her up. If her hurt and frustration over being in this situation was fueled by her anger, his silence was the match. “Faking an engagement to the secret wife so she can get her father to take her seriously for once? I’m sure that was right up there on your list of things you were looking for in a partner.”
Why couldn’t her father see her differently? Why did he have to be so stubbornly stuck in his beliefs? Why had she gotten drunker than she ever had, been married by a two-bit Elvis, then proceeded to have unprotected sex with her childhood friend? Why did she want to run a company? Why couldn’t she be content to work at a job she loved, surrounded by family she loved for the rest of her life?
The thing that made her angriest was that she couldn’t bring herself to regret any of what she was lamenting. It would make everything easier to deal with if she could. Regrets gave a nice cushion for those pesky emotions like anger, bitterness, and resentment. If she regretted her choices, needs, and desires, it would make them easier to walk away from.
Easier to get the divorce she should have asked for long ago, easier to stay in a job that she was good at, easier to maintain a smooth relationship with a father she loved. Just easier. But she didn’t regret any of it, dammit—and so here she was, married to a man who she felt bonded to on an almost spiritual level, and deceiving her father on her climb to the top of a company that was her heart and soul.
“Do you even know what you want?” she asked, suddenly deflated.
He said nothing. Damn silent, cerebral man.
“Because I do. I want to run my father’s company and I want to have that chance without having to lie to him. I want to be free from the assumption that I’m a mouse who does as she’s told and is too insecure to stand up for herself. I want to feel happiness and not have to hide it.” Why were her cheeks wet? Was she crying? Great, her humiliation was complete, and Joel still hadn’t said a word.
The lurch of the Porsche stopping and its door slamming jolted her out of her pit of self-pity. Blinking away her tears, she realized they were parked in front of her Zia Ella’s house. Had she really been venting for the entire car ride?
Her passenger side door ripped open, and Joel offered her his hand to help her out of the car. Happy to unload her, she bet. Guilt swamped her. She shouldn’t have dumped on him when he’d only been trying to help.
When she was out of the car, he frowned at her, scrutinizing her face until she averted her gaze. When the pad of his thumb swiped tears off her cheekbone her gaze bounced back to his, and she couldn’t stop the gasp of shock for the ache she saw in them.
Then he slammed the vehicle door shut and stomped down the path to her aunt’s house, leaving her in the wake of his anger. The force of it was almost visible, like heat waves on scorching asphalt. Half intrigued, half terrified, Lucy followed him slowly, unsure of what flame she’d ignited inside him.
When she made it to the stoop, he glared at her again, his look hard but still magnetizing. She was locked in by the power of that stare.
“Do you know what I want, Lucy?” The authoritative rumble in his tone sent a shiver up her back; goosebumps broke over her arms. “I want you to go inside and pack your bags.”
The door swung open, revealing her aunt on the other side. Ella’s toothy grin froze when Joel announced, “Lucy’s moving in with me.”