Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
WILLA
If I had any self-preservation instincts left, I would’ve faked a tractor emergency and stayed on the damn farm. But I couldn’t do that to Chloe or Emma or the Little Crafters Camp I’d been contracted to provide supplies for.
So instead of bailing, I rolled up to Xander Steele’s house at dusk.
I had a crate full of mason jars and wildflowers on the bench seat next to me, fresh sweat clinging to my spine, and truly unfortunate smears of dirt right across my boobs and my thigh that I hadn’t noticed until it was way too late to do anything about.
But why should I anyway? It wasn’t like I cared…
Except that lie had been a lot easier to tell myself before I’d woken up this morning next to my husband, my black silicone wedding band a stark reminder of what we’d done.
Plus, Lincoln had been right there, looking all sweet and rumpled and soft around the edges.
Like a smug fucking lion, peaceful in sleep but dangerous all the same.
My face had been inches from his as he’d slept soundly next to me, his large palm cupping my outer thigh and damn near throwing me straight into cardiac arrest. Not just from the feel of it against my skin, but from the sight of his matching wedding band on display.
With my common sense on sabbatical, I’d allowed myself to study his face, admiring his thick eyelashes and those full lips. And then I’d noticed just how shadowed his jaw had gotten overnight and wondered what that scruff would feel like on my inner thighs.
On. My. Inner. Thighs.
So basically, I was fucked.
Fucked and about to walk into his niece’s birthday party at his brother’s house and pretend like everything was fine. Totally fine. And I definitely hadn’t married the man I took great pleasure in cussing out on the daily but whom I now apparently fantasized about eating me out.
After throwing the truck into park, I shoved open the door, slid out, and grabbed the crate of supplies for the crafting camp. Once I had everything hefted and settled in my arms, I shut the door with my boot and headed toward my doom.
The party was in the winding-down stage, the music just soft background noise as the murmur of adult conversation and the sudden crack of laughter floated over to me.
Lincoln’s entire family sat around the balloon- and streamer-filled yard, the tired star of the show halfway comatose.
Lincoln’s niece Emma slumped in a chair with a homemade sign that read, Birthday Princess.
Okay. This was fine. There wasn’t a lot of commotion to distract them, but I could handle this. I was going to get in, drop off the supplies, and get out. Easy peasy.
Or it would have been if it weren’t for my pain-in-the-ass fake husband who couldn’t leave well enough alone.
I hadn’t even taken three steps toward the garage when Lincoln came storming over, his brows drawn down as he eyed me.
“Are you hauling that by yourself?” he said, sounding as close to angry as he ever got.
I didn’t even get a chance to answer before he plucked the crate from my hands like I was some kind of damsel in distress.
“You see anyone else with me?” I braced my hands on my hips and glared at him. “Yes, I hauled it myself, jackass. I’m not made of glass, you know.”
He clenched his jaw and pressed his mouth into a thin line like I was the problem here. “No, you’re made of stubborn. And you’re going to hurt your back again if you keep trying to do this shit on your own.”
Oh, he had a lot of nerve.
“Been doing a lot of shit on my own for a lot of years, Lincoln.” I crossed my arms and lifted a single shoulder in a shrug. “Besides, fucking up my back wouldn’t be the worst way to get out of mowing the lawn.”
That earned me a deeper scowl. “Real funny, wife.”
I froze, the word landing as subtly as a bucket of ice water to the face. Immediately, I darted my gaze around the backyard, checking for witnesses to his little slip. He’d better hope no one noticed.
I stepped closer to him, pinching his side hard enough to make him jerk. “It’s not even real,” I hissed.
He just shrugged, completely unrepentant, and strode toward the empty picnic table near the garage. “Don’t care.”
“How about I make you care with my foot up your ass?” I whisper-yelled as I stalked after him.
After setting the crate on the table, he turned to face me, his arms crossed and jaw tight. “My wife—real or not—isn’t going to haul this shit by herself while I sit on my ass and watch.”
“Oh my god, you are insufferable! I’m not going to break. I can carry a crate weighing all of ten pounds. I hauled five weighing triple that earlier today.”
“Did you?” he said in a way that had my hackles rising. “Noted. I’ll adjust my schedule at the bar so I can be at the farm to help when it’s hauling shit time.”
I wouldn’t have been surprised if I looked like an actual cartoon character with steam pouring out of my ears. “I don’t need you to do that. That’s my entire point.”
“And my entire point is I’m your husband now, and it’s part of the job.”
I gripped him by the arm and tugged him around the side of the garage, away from any prying eyes or ears. “Would you stop throwing that around! We said we were going to wait. Remember?”
He shrugged like he wasn’t in the process of blowing up our plan and making things even more difficult for everyone involved. “I figured there was no time like the present.”
“You’re not even a little bit sorry about this!”
“You’re right. I’m not.” He stepped closer until our shoes touched, his heat seeped into my body, and I was reminded—again—about that kiss that practically melted my brain.
“But if you hadn’t tried hauling this shit on your own in the first place, we wouldn’t be dealing with the fallout.
So maybe let that be a reminder for next time. ”
Fuck me, I was going to lose my mind before the grant had any hope of helping the farm.
I clenched my teeth and my fists, resisting the urge to sock him right in his obnoxiously defined abs. Instead of doing just that, I spun around and stormed off so I wouldn’t make a scene, intent on a quick and silent exit.
Spoiler alert: that did not happen.
“Willa!” Chloe called, stepping in my path with a bright smile, her long blond hair pulled up in a messy bun and her cheeks dusted with pink glitter. “Thanks for dropping all that off. I know Emma and her friends are going to have a great time with their crafts tomorrow.”
I forced my shoulders to relax and smiled tightly. “No problem. Thanks for ordering them from me.”
She laughed, the sound light and airy. “Like I’d do anything else.” Then she leaned in and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “And like Lincoln would allow anything else. He practically held the phone to my ear while I called and placed the order just to make sure it got done.”
I froze, my smile faltering enough that I hoped it didn’t betray me. He hadn’t said a word…hadn’t even sent a smirk or a smug grin in my direction. He’d just made sure I’d gotten the business without any fanfare.
Chloe moved on, talking about the projects they were planning to do at camp, but I just stood there. Trying not to let Lincoln’s small act of kindness lodge itself somewhere dangerous—like under my ribs. Too damn close to my heart.
When I was able to step away from Chloe, I tried—again—to leave. I even made it two steps past where everyone was gathered before Sutton’s voice rang out and stopped me in my tracks.
“Um…hello?” she asked, her head cocked to the side, loose brown waves just kissing her shoulders.
I lifted a hand in greeting and forced a smile, hoping that was enough. I should’ve known better.
Laurel—Sutton’s sardonic teenage daughter and mini-me—snorted and raised a brow. “You think we’re all just gonna ignore the whole wife thing?”
Sutton leaned back into the vast expanse of Atlas’s chest and tipped her head toward her daughter. “Lolo has a point.”
With a smile in my direction, Chloe settled on Xander’s lap. “Were you planning on saying anything, orrr…?”
And then, as if he’d been waiting for his cue to arrive, my jackass husband strolled over, wrapped an arm around my waist, and tucked me into his side. “I did say something. Everyone heard when I called her my wife, right?”
Silence settled for long moments as I shifted on my feet, my pulse speeding into a gallop. I wanted to pull his armpit hairs for this bullshit. But instead, I just stood there, afraid any small reaction from me would only make things worse.
Finally, Declan said, “I heard it. I just want to know how you managed to trick her into it.”
“No tricking involved,” Lincoln said smugly. “My little hellcat couldn’t wait.”
Forget pulling his armpit hairs. I was going to shave off his eyebrows after he fell asleep tonight.
“Everything okay?” Atlas asked, eyes intent and mildly suspicious.
“Better than okay.” Lincoln grinned and hugged me tight, pressing a kiss against my temple to really lay it on thick. “I’ve been enjoying the hell out of her being my wife.”
His words rang with such sincerity, I had no doubt everyone could hear the truth in them. But only I knew what he’d actually enjoyed about my being his wife was irritating the ever-loving shit out of me.
“I didn’t want to get my hopes up…” Holly, Lincoln’s mom, stood and clasped her hands, a bright smile on her face. “But Mabel mentioned something last night at book club!”
“Mabel?” I asked, eyes wide, because how in the actual hell?
Lincoln and I had specifically traveled to another town so we wouldn’t raise any suspicions in Starlight Cove. Not until we were ready to spill the details. And that wily old woman had apparently known hours after Lincoln and I had said I do?
“Oh, you know her…” Holly waved a hand through the air as she strode toward us. “Once a journalist, always a journalist.”
“I think you mean the walking leak,” Xander said dryly.
“I’m just so happy!” Holly pulled me from Lincoln’s hold and wrapped her arms around me. Squeezing me tight, she enveloped me in her familiar scent—the one I’d long associated with the only true motherly presence in my life. “I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time.”
Waiting for one of her fully grown sons to finally find a wife? I didn’t blame her. Though, she’d probably assumed it would happen first with Atlas or Xander since they were both in committed relationships. But here I was, swooping in out of the blue and throwing a wrench into things.
She held me at arm’s length, her smile as bright as the sun. “We have to throw a party!”
I stiffened, my face probably resembling that of a deer caught in headlights. “Oh, that’s really not necessary.”
“Nonsense! I want to. You don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of it all!”
Could she take care of me sinking into the earth? Because that would be the only acceptable outcome for this little party.
I wasn’t what you’d call social. I didn’t enjoy being around a ton of people, and I absolutely hated being the focus of all those people. Not to mention having to act like a happy little wife to my fake husband.
Before I could start sweating, Lincoln slipped his arm around my waist again and tucked me back into his side. He slid his hand into the front pocket of my overall shorts like that was totally normal behavior and not seventh circle of hell territory.
“You throw an awesome party, Mom,” he said, his thumb rubbing a maddening path up and down the soft curve of my stomach.
“But if I know my wife—and I do—” he lowered his head, dragging his nose up the column of my neck before placing a kiss below my ear “—she’ll hate having a party where she’s the center of attention. ”
As if that chaste-but-actually-quite-indecent kiss wasn’t enough, Lincoln glanced down at me with a soft smile. This wasn’t the charmer schmoozing his way through the night, and this wasn’t the jackass goading me just to see how much I could take before I snapped.
No, this was infinitely worse.
This was Lincoln Steele—my fake husband and apparent protector—reading my cues. Like he knew me. Like he got me.
And that was absolutely terrifying.
“And let’s face it,” he continued. “You put Willa in any room, and she’ll definitely be the center of attention.”
A chorus of awws rose from the table, but I couldn’t drag my gaze away from Lincoln’s. Just what the hell was he playing at here? This had to be a trick or a con or a…I didn’t know.
What it absolutely could not be was real.