Chapter 12
12
RAINN
A T. rex and a stegosaurus stand guard before a majestic white cape cod house with bright-blue shutters. Would it be rude to take a picture? Because no one would believe us.
As we walk along the sidewalk, I stare up at the metal statues and accidentally bump into Mac. He grabs my arm to keep from tripping and doesn’t let go until we reach the door.
“This is Belinda’s childhood home? I’m not sure she believes dinosaurs actually existed.”
I shrug at Mac’s question. My stepmother never talks about her parents or her life before Dad. I can’t picture her as a kid. “I wonder what’s in the back?”
“A spaceship is my guess,” Mac says in a low voice, his familiar woodsy scent comforting. I’m nervous as hell. I don’t like making waves. Maybe that’s why Mac insisted on coming along. He snorts. “And possibly an alien or two.”
I shake out my nerves and raise my hand to knock. The door flings open, and a man with wild hair and a walrus mustache stares at us. He’s short. Or maybe not. That could just be an illusion because the woman standing behind him is tall and delicate-looking. She reminds me of the swan barometer Zye had. It was made of thin glass and told us when a storm was coming.
My throat clogs up. Nope. Not thinking about my brother and everything I’m keeping from him. Or storms.
“A giant octopus,” the woman says, her high voice lilting instead of grating.
I glance at Mac. Am I the only one confused? He shrugs.
“No aliens. Or spaceships.” The man runs his fingers over his mustache. “That was last month.”
I hold back a laugh. How did they hear us? The blue door looks sturdy.
“Surely they have doorbell cameras in Missouri.” But she pronounces it as misery .
And she’s not wrong. My face heats. So much for making a good first impression. “Um, hi. I’m Rainn?—”
“We know who you are, dear boy.” The man gives me a quick smile. His gaze darts to Mac, and he squints suspiciously. “But not you. Are you a spy?”
“What? No. I’m Mac.”
“He’s my…” Husband? The best friend I’ve ever had? The only reason I had enough nerve to fly across the country to meet you? Mac clears his throat. Right. They need an answer. “Mac is my friend. He’s with me.”
The woman waves her hand and she’s so tall it goes right over the man’s head. “Let them in, Hal.” She retreats into the house, but he stands there staring at us.
Hal pokes his head out the door and glances to the left and right. “Are you alone?”
These shouldn’t be difficult questions. But do I mention Hettie and Mama Gladdie waiting at a diner a few blocks away?
“Just us.” Mac points to our empty rental car sitting in their driveway.
Hal watches Mac intently for another minute, then nods and opens the door.
I go ahead of Mac. These are my relatives. Sort of. But I can feel his presence behind me, giving me the courage I need. Inside the house is…unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The floor plan is open, but each room is a different bold color. The living room is a deep blue. The kitchen is bright orange. The hallway to the other rooms is purple. I’ve heard the word eccentric before and thought about Mama Gladdie. But the Martins make Mama Gladdie seem tame by comparison.
“I’m Joy,” the woman says to Mac with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. She beckons to me. “Come here, child.” I ignore the child comment and step closer. Tipping my chin, she studies my face. What is she looking for? “Did Hettie send you?”
I want to turn around and find Mac. Just to catch his eyes, feel his warmth, see his smile. Pathetic. I’m an adult. Almost a doctor. What the fuck is wrong with me? “No, and yes.”
She laughs, and it’s like the tinkling of glass. “Tea? Or bourbon?”
What? Her question throws me for a second. And are there no other choices? “Tea.”
She glances behind me.
“I don’t drink,” Mac says, but the silent usually sits there between us.
Her smile is fractionally warmer. “Tea it is. Please sit.”
The couch is white faux leather which seems intentional and so comfortable I groan when I sink into it.
Mac coughs, his face turning an interesting shade of red. Am I embarrassing him? I sit up straighter as he joins me, leaving some distance between us. I want to pull him closer so his leg rests against mine.
Joy serves tea and macarons. I take a bite of the dainty sandwich cookie and the buttercream melts in my mouth. I try and fail to hold back another moan.
Mac glares at me as he bites into his cookie and then his eyes flutter shut. My breath catches. His long lashes. Mouth slightly open in surprise, and then—fuck—his tongue darts out to catch the crumbs on his lips.
I focus on my cookie and recite the bones in the body. Starting at the neck. I rush past the clavicle. Kissing Mac there. Dipping my tongue—nope. Scapula. Not much better. I get through the lower arm bones, ulna, and radius before my dick gets the message and deflates.
“Are you enjoying the cookies?” Joy asks with a knowing smile. Oh God. I hope she doesn’t know what I’m thinking.
“These are amazing, Mrs. Martin. Did you make them?”
“Oh no, dear.” She laughs again. Glass wind chimes. Is that a thing? “I can’t bake worth a hoot. Hal made these. He’s amazing.” She smiles fondly at her husband as she sits on the other side of Mac. “And please call me Joy.” She pats Mac’s arm.
Hal smiles, absorbing her praise. “I’m glad you’re enjoying them. I love baking.”
I’m struck again by this couple and how different they are from my stepmother.
“I appreciate you coming all this way to see us, Rainn,” Joy says, her voice losing some of its musical quality. “But the answer is still no.”
“What’s the question?” I ask because I want to be sure we’re talking about the same thing.
She sighs and glances at Hal. He puffs up, running his fingers over his mustache. “I hate to be indelicate, Rainn, but your father is…” His words lose steam, and he shares another look with Joy.
I decide to help him out. “Difficult? An asshole? A prick?”
“You’re getting closer, dear.” Joy rolls her hand in a keep-going gesture, and Mac bites back a grin.
“Look, my father and I don’t agree on anything.” I let my frustration and anger seep into my words. “I hate him. Please believe me.”
“We do.” Hal nods, but his eyes have a hint of regret in them. Fuck.
“We watched the wedding video,” Joy adds.
“Then you know?—”
“You hate him and what he stands for. Yet he was at your wedding.” Hal glances at Joy.
“He’s my father?—”
“And Zye is your brother.”
I want to yell at them. It’s not fair. It’s not like I can just not invite him. He’s the only parent I have left. I depend on him.
Shit.
I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to take their sympathetic looks. Between Zye and my dad, I’d choose Zye any day.
Only I hadn’t. Ever.
Not at the wedding. Not at my fifteenth birthday party when my dad made fun of the skirt Zye wore. Not when Mom left and Zye wrote to me every single day. The first time Dad read Zye’s letters aloud, I caved. I was too afraid to even write my brother back.
Why would they trust me? I’m dependent on my dad. Financially. Emotionally. Like a boat needing an anchor. Am I so pathetic that I can’t stand the thought of not having a parent?
“Rainn stood up to his dad,” Mac says, squeezing my leg. Did he scoot closer?
“Here you go, dear.” Joy hands me a box of tissues, and I dab at my eyes furiously. Why am I so weak? So helpless? “We want to help Hettie, we do. We offered our home to her, and she declined.”
What? “You did?”
“Of course. We aren’t monsters.” Hal frowns at me.
That’s not what Hettie said. Or inferred.
“She didn’t want him to come after you.”
It sounds like a guess, but as soon as Mac says the words, I realize he’s right. “He doesn’t care about her, but he’d fight to keep her out of your hands.”
“She’s like property to them,” Mac says, then his eyes widen. “To the sheriff, I mean.”
Hal sniffs, and it’s the only sound in the room. Mac hands him the tissues. “It’s fine. We know our sweet daughter has been brainwashed by that man. He seemed nice at first, you know. It wasn’t until a year after they married that he started showing his true colors. After Hettie was born, he convinced her to break all ties with us.”
“After he transferred all the money from her trust fund into his name.” Joy sets her jaw and sits straighter. “We are not letting that happen again. Hettie’s trust fund will be here waiting for her when she’s of age and independent from him. As will yours, Rainn.”
“My…what?” Her words make no sense.
“We realize you’re old enough to get the money from your trust fund, but one of the stipulations is that you have to be independent from your father.”
“Trust fund?” I sound like a parrot, but I still can’t make sense of it. “I have a trust fund?”
“Of course.” Hal’s bushy brows scrunch together. “Why wouldn’t you have one? You’re our grandson.”
The words warm my heart—desperate for that validation. But my brain doesn’t believe it. Or maybe it’s the other way around. “Legally, I guess that’s true.”
“We love you, Rainn. It might not seem like it, but we do.”
Hal rakes his hand through his straw-colored hair and it stands up even more. “We’ve tried to visit. Asked to see both Hettie and you, but he—” He sighs. “They wouldn’t let us.” His lip trembles and he turns pleading eyes on Joy. She takes his hand and squeezes.
“We tried, but maybe not hard enough. But we kept tabs on you both to ensure you were safe. We worried he would become violent?—”
“He’s never hit us,” I say in a rush. “Or Belinda.”
She nods. “We have a source. Someone in Cedar Ridge who keeps us updated. We are so proud of you, Rainn.” Her smile lights up the room. “We’re going to have a doctor in the family, Hal.”
My throat clogs with emotion. The support and love in their eyes is overwhelming. When have I had that? From someone other than Mac? Maybe Mom, a long time ago. Before she left us. My stomach twists. Love can be taken away on a whim, and I need to remember that.
“You might not,” Mac says. “Things aren’t looking good right now.”
“What do you mean?” Joy leans closer. And I’ve clearly lost track of the conversation because I’m not sure either.
We all stare at him, including me. He wipes his hands on his jeans and gives me a get-with-the-program look. What were we talking about? A doctor in the family. Oh. Right. All the worry I pushed away because this trip is about Hettie comes rushing back.
“My dad is pissed right now. He’s threatening to cut me off. I’m starting my third year of med school. It’s not just the school. I might be able to get financial aid or loans or something.” I shrug. “I’ve never had to before, so…I’m not sure how. All the other med students have part-time jobs. I could do that.” I stop. Shame and humiliation burn through me. How privileged I am. How useless I am at taking care of myself. Paying rent. Bills. Dad gives me the money for all of that. I’m completely dependent on him.
“He’s such a…what was the word? Oh yes. Prick,” Joy says, her eyes flashing with anger.
Hal gasps. “Joy!”
“I’m sorry, but he’s ensured Rainn is totally dependent on him. It’s another way he controls you, dear boy.”
My eyes dart to Mac. Is she right? I thought I was lucky to have a parent who cared enough to provide for me, but was this all about control? As if he can read my mind, he nods, squeezing my shoulder. “You didn’t know?”
“I thought—” But I cut off my words. Of course, I knew he was controlling me. But I also thought he loved me.
“We want to help, Rainn. We do,” Joy says, and I can hear the but in her words. She shares another look with Hal. “We can’t risk your dad getting your trust fund. We won’t risk it. And paying for your schooling won’t help you. It will just make you dependent on us.”
I nod. We came all this way. But I don’t regret it. Knowing that I have my grandparents’ support is everything. Even if they aren’t biologically mine. Legally, they are. Emotionally, they are.
A tinkling sound that reminds me of Joy’s laugh fills the air. Joy checks her phone. “More visitors.” Jumping to her feet, she claps her hands. “This is so exciting.”
Mac slides closer and takes my hand, threading our fingers together. “You okay?” His eyes are filled with worry. For me. Mac is my anchor. The thought is reassuring. And terrifying. What if I fuck everything up? It’s likely. I have a habit of fucking up important relationships. Of disappointing those I love.
Mom. Zye. Cher. Mac.
And it will probably happen again. What if this time he leaves me for good?
“Well, isn’t this cozy?” Mama Gladdie grins at us. I realize how close we’re sitting. I pull my hand free.
“Sorry,” Hettie mouths.
Hal pulls chairs up, and Mama Gladdie waves me over so she can sit beside me. After introductions are made all around, she asks, “What did we miss?”
Joy scrunches her penciled brows together and studies us. “We were just telling Rainn here that, unfortunately, we can’t be much help with Hettie’s or Rainn’s situations. Their father…” She trails off. Is she worried about insulting him in front of them?
Mama Gladdie puffs up. “Sheriff Harding is a homophobic, transphobic, judgmental, hateful…”
“Dickwad,” Hettie finishes for her.
“Exactly.” Mama Gladdie glances at the coffee table. “Is that chamomile tea?”
“Where are my manners? Would you like some? Hettie?”
Once everyone has tea, Mama Gladdie eats a cookie. Then another. “My goodness. These macarons are almost as good as mine.”
Hal grins. “Thank you.”
“Of course. Now, where were we?”
“We can’t help.” Joy explains her reasoning and Mama Gladdie nods along.
“I don’t want to speak for my almost son-in-law, but the way I see it, Rainn doesn’t much care for his father.” She glances at me for confirmation, and I nod, wishing I hadn’t let go of Mac’s hand. “Did you see the video of the wedding? He told him off. Kicked him out.”
“That was amazing, Rainn.”
“Yes,” Hal says, smiling at his wife. “We watched it several…hundred times.”
“We’re so proud of you, dear.”
“But…” Mama Gladdie prompts.
Joy sighs. “It’s not enough. The man is infuriating.”
Hal rubs his fingers over his mustache. “If you’d actually married Cher, that would be a game changer.”
“What?” I clear my throat, my heart pounding. “Why would me marrying Cher make a difference?” I think about it. “Because she has her own money?”
Joy laughs, and everyone stops talking as if listening. “No, dear. If you were married, then he couldn’t get your money. Not only would another person have a claim to it…” she says and hesitates, her eyes finding mine. “You seek approval, Rainn, much like our daughter. And caring about someone else more than your parents—I mean, your dad—would make a difference.” Her eyes beg me to understand before she turns to her husband. “Hal?”
He nods enthusiastically. “I agree. Ever since your mama left?—”
“No need to bring that up, dearest.” Joy pats his hand. “You understand, right?”
I do. I glance around the room. Not much else to say.
“What if he gets married?” Mama Gladdie asks, trying to sound innocent.
“Just to get his trust fund?” Hal shakes his head. “Please don’t go marrying Cher. We can only release the funds if we’re sure you’re in love. If your bride means more to you than your dad.”
“What if he’s already married?” Mac asks, and everyone turns to him. I expected the question from Mama Gladdie. Not my best friend. My husband.
Hal laughs. “It would be quite the coincidence.”
“What if Rainn realized marrying Cher was a mistake…” Mac sucks in a breath and releases it slowly, his eyes fixed on the cyberpunk robot lamp behind Hal. “Because he was in love with someone else?”
I grab his hand and pull until he’s looking at me. The room is quiet while we argue without words.
You don’t need to do this.
Yes, I do.
Mac tears his eyes away and pushes his shoulders back. “What if he got married in Vegas? Not to Cher but to his best friend.”
Hettie gasps and covers her mouth with her hands.
“Did you? Are you…married, Rainn?”
What can I do? Disagree with him? My husband? I nod and pull the chain from around my neck, showing them the ring.
Joy’s mouth is working, but no words come out. I remove the ring from the chain and slip it on the ring finger of my left hand. It feels right and relief flows through me. Mac slips his on and lifts his hand. He smiles at me. Don’t worry .
“Oh. My. God,” Hettie says, her eyes wide. “I knew it.”
“You did not.” How could she know it when it isn’t real. I should end this now. Lying to them seems wrong.
“Are you kidding? You’re not that good at hiding it, Rainn. And neither is Mac.”
My mouth drops open, and I snap it shut. What does that mean? But I don’t ask the question. I might have been obvious. Which is embarrassing as hell. But Mac? That doesn’t make sense.
“We need more than rings.” Joy shakes her head. “We trust you, Rainn, but this is too important to trifle with.”
Mac takes out his phone. “Here’s a picture of the marriage certificate.” When did he take that? “And a picture of us in front of the wedding chapel.”
Joy’s eyes fill with tears, and Hettie makes grabby hands for the phone.
“You guys are so cute,” she squeals.
“But are you in love?” The knot between Hal’s eyes says he’s not buying it. Shit. Time to bring this farce to an end.
“Listen, I’m grateful?—”
“I reckon y’all just need to prove it.” Mama Gladdie reaches for another cookie.
“Say, what?”
She waves a ring-covered hand in my direction. “I can totally see how gone you are for this man, Rainn Harding. But others might need proof. Kiss him.” She winks. “Like you mean it.”
“No.” I glare at her. “We’re not putting on an act like performing seals.”
Mac pulls on my hand until I’m facing him. “That hurts, sweetheart. Are you just acting when you kiss me?”
He’s joking. Right? Kissing him has always been real for me. But can I do this? In front of everyone? His hands cup my face, and a tremor goes through me. How does this man have such a hold on me? “Mac?”
“Stop worrying and kiss me,” he mumbles against my lips. And then his tongue swipes at the seam of my mouth, and I gasp, letting him in.
I’m not sure if he’s pretending or not, but my body doesn’t care as it overrules my brain. I grip the back of his head as I deepen the kiss. Our tongues slide together, and I practically inhale him. God.
Grasping the front of my shirt, he pulls me closer. I forget everything and everyone else as Mac takes what he wants.
I’ve always been the one to instigate, but now…the heat of his mouth. The taste of him. The needy sounds he makes when I bite his bottom lip.
The bells stop me. No, not bells. Joy and her laugh. “My, my, my, boys. I’m convinced. You can, um, stop kissing now.”
“But can they?” Mama Gladdie asks with snark and glee in her voice.
We pull apart, and Mac smiles sheepishly at me. I suck in a breath. And then another. What just happened? I blink away the lust and confusion and shift on the couch, trying to ease the pressure of my throbbing cock pressed tight against my zipper. Is Mac hard? I don’t dare look.
Joy and Hal have a silent conversation, and I have no idea which way it’s going to go. Finally, Hal nods, and Joy speaks. “We both agree that your marriage to Mac and apparent love for each other changes everything. We’ll happily release your trust fund, Rainn.”
The tension melts away. I didn’t even realize how tense I was. But Hettie’s future and mine are on the line. “Thank you,” I say, trying not to cry like a damn baby. These people, who I barely know, have shown me more love and kindness than both my parents put together.
“We’ll transfer everything. After the waiting period.” Joy stands. “More tea? Cookies?”
I stare at her. “Waiting period?”
Hal sighs. “Marriages don’t last these days. Especially quick ones done in Vegas. We just have to be sure. You understand.”
Mac coughs and takes a drink of his tea. “How long?”
“Normally, we’d want a year of wedded bliss.” He chuckles at that. “But these are extenuating circumstances. Joy and I agree a shorter time period might be more reasonable.”
Before I can ask, Joy smiles with a nod of her head. “We’d like to see you and Mac happily married for six months.”