CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“W ould you rather turn around or get whatever this is”—I wave my hand straight ahead—“over with?”
Brody’s hand tightens on the wheel. “Don’t give me the option.”
My sigh matches the clench in my husband’s jaw. Frustration has been brewing since we packed the truck this morning. I’ve been trying to lighten the mood and failing miserably.
His agitation appears directly related to where we’re headed. That’s spiked a hefty dose of suspicion in me, rattling my nerves until I can barely sit still. Two hours is a long time to sit on the edge of my seat.
Each mile that brings us closer to town adds another brick to his recognizable defense. He’s quiet, stoically guarding the vulnerable pieces of himself. Long sleeves hide his rebellious phase while a steely glare paves our way home. His shaggy hair isn’t tucked under a hat but I’m sure that’s coming soon. I thought we were past this phase. It hurts my heart, as if we’re shifting into reverse.
A glance in the side mirror twists my stomach into knots. Just yesterday we were on that boat, speaking freely. Now the tension is so thick I can barely breathe. Whatever he’s afraid to tell me must be significant.
By the time we pull into Benson Farmstead, my legs are a pair of coiled springs. I’m ready to jump out of my skin while Brody types in his access code. We don’t exchange a word as the quiet hum swings the gate open.
Nothing appears to be out of sorts, which should offer a sliver of relief. Brody’s stormy expression grows darker as if the sprawling green acres are a black hole. Tires thump on concrete when he eases off the brake to face the inevitable. The truck crawls forward at a pace that elevates my pulse. If I stay inside this pressure cooker for another second, I’ll burst beyond measure. I’m unbuckled and reaching for the escape latch before he comes to a complete stop.
“Twinkles?”
I startle at his low tone, popping the stress bearing down on me. “Yeah, boss?”
The harsh lines in his features soften. “Thanks for last night. I needed it.”
My body instinctively shifts toward his. “I’m glad I stayed.”
“Remember that, okay?”
A furrow dents my forehead. “What are you afraid of?”
“Losing you.”
My heart pangs and I quirk a brow to mask the turmoil. “You don’t really have me. Last name only, husband.”
“Planning to change that. ”
Before I can question him, he cups the back of my neck and hauls me in. Our foreheads bump as green collides with blue. There’s so much swirling in Brody’s stare. He’s open to me again, if just for a moment. I watch the conflict spread until he looks pained.
“Let me kiss you.” It’s not a request, but he wants permission.
My exhale hitches and he breathes me in, waiting. “That isn’t the explanation I expected.”
“It’s a need.” His hold tightens on my nape. “Something to soften the blow. Real feelings are forming. I want to prove it.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Okay?”
My nose nudges his when I nod. “Kiss me like you mean it, husband.”
Brody’s mouth slams onto mine. The brutal intensity shocks me. He takes advantage of my gasp, our tongues meeting in a sensual glide. Heat blasts through me and I mewl at the feverish rush.
The kiss is passionate and raw—an explosion of need. The tension that’s been brewing for weeks detonates. Teeth clamp onto lips while desire bursts between us. A thrum streaks under my skin in a static ripple. I whimper and he swallows the sound on a groan. The grip on the back of my neck clenches, making me feel controlled. That sensation is a hot streak of arousal pumping into me.
Brody lifts his other palm to cradle my face. The tender touch has me surrendering completely. Within the lust, I realize that we’re too far apart. He must sense the distance too. Leather creaks as we shift for a deeper connection. There’s so much left unsaid but we understand each other in this moment.
His taste is addictive, much like the man in general. I sip on peppermint while inhaling woodsy spice. He’s everywhere but it’s not enough. My fingers fist at the front of his shirt, yanking to demand more. His fingers tunnel into my hair, pulling gently. That slight sting expands into a burning ache. I squirm to get closer, chasing the warmth.
Brody seems just as demanding. Hands drift and rove to map as much of me as possible. It’s electrifying. I’m dizzy. Consumed. Lost. He’s pouring so much into this embrace. I can feel his hunger stroking mine. It’s enough to make me forget where we are. The need builds and grows until I’m ready to climb onto his lap.
That urge must slap him and he jolts. Brody pauses his assault before breaking the kiss entirely. The separation is slow, like pulling apart molasses. It feels like he’s forcing himself to stop. A bitter chill fills the space he shoves between us.
His thumb traces over the swell on my bottom lip. “That was more than I deserve.”
I shiver as the lingering warmth fades. Confusion muddles with desire while I struggle to compose myself. “What’s happening?”
Brody nods at the windshield. “My sister is about to raise hell.”
And then he lets me go.
My heart hurts when his gaze ices over. The need to know what’s wrong traps me in suspense. It’s tempting to stay and pry, the words perched for flight. But there’s someone else I need to see right now .
When I turn to look, Bianca is leaving the barn and walking in our direction. A different type of nervous energy floods me. The long-distance silence leaves me guessing how she’ll react. Only one way to find out.
I open my door and a blast of cool air hits my flushed cheeks. The chill is barely noticeable as I focus on my best friend since elementary school. Her stride is a fast clip that syncs with the pounding in my chest. Uncertainty weighs me down, which sucks. It’s never been like this between us.
But then Bianca begins jogging, a smile lighting up her face. Relief whooshes out of me and I hurry to cover the distance to meet her. We crash against each other in a hug that’s painfully overdue.
“Holy shit,” she breathes. “You’re alive.”
I pull away and laugh at her bewildered expression. “Did you assume otherwise?”
“Um, yeah. Brody hauled you off into the woods for a reward retreat while the entire town—” Her gaze swings to my hand clutching her upper arm. “No way. Tell me it isn’t true.”
“Which part?”
Bianca grips my fingers, gawking at my new jewelry. “You married my brother?”
It’s my turn to stare blankly. “You didn’t know?”
Her gaze bounces from my ring to my face. “Last I heard, he was bugging you to fake date him.”
“Oh, no.” My stomach sinks.
“The locals were quick to update me when I went to the bar last night. Figured it was a horrific rumor.” She shudders. “How did this happen?”
“As it turns out, your brother didn’t need a girlfriend to take ownership of the company. He actually needed a wife. After much”—I deliberate on my word choice for a breath—“persuasion, he convinced me to fill the role.”
Her eyes bug out. “You agreed willingly?”
“Well…” My brain scrambles for an excuse that won’t make this worse. “He made it difficult to refuse.”
Her frantic stare slides to my rings again. “Is that barbwire?”
I fiddle with the bands. “It’s somewhat of an… inside joke.”
“Real funny. I can’t believe this.” Bianca yanks at her dark hair. “Why didn’t you call me?”
Frustration rises in a wave, crashing against my already frazzled nerves. “I tried several times a day. You never answered.”
She exhales roughly. “Ugh, right. Sorry. My phone was stolen. Colton was a real shit about letting me use his.”
“Why?”
“Good question. He’s been better about it since we got back, but you weren’t answering yours.”
“It got into a fight with the hot tub at the cabin. Do not recommend,” I sigh.
“That’s… strange.”
“Too much champagne.”
Her brows spring to the clouds. “Wait. Was this secret getaway your honeymoon?”
“Um, yeah. I guess?” Even though I’d been hell-bent against admitting it originally.
“Did you have sex with him?” Bianca gags almost immediately. “Nope, don’t answer that. I’m already assuming the worst after you ran off with him. Gross. ”
“We’re married in name only,” I say to reassure both of us.
“Doesn’t matter. A fake relationship would’ve been bad enough.”
“This is just temporary.”
“Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that. Something isn’t adding up. Why didn’t we talk for almost two weeks?”
“I couldn’t get ahold of you,” I reiterate.
“Maybe that was on purpose. He knew how I felt about his plan to use you. I didn’t want you involved in his messy business.” Her glare shifts over my shoulder. “Care to correct me, brother?”
As my pulse kicks into a lope, I follow her focus to where it landed behind me. Brody is there, leaning on the truck, just waiting for recognition. A cowboy hat shadows his eyes and reclaims the broody indifference he oozes like testosterone. The shield is locked in place but I see beneath it. I know him better now. Sort of.
My breath hitches when Brody’s stare smolders into mine. I don’t bother fighting the urge to fan my face. Damn, this man gets me hot and bothered. Nobody can deny that after the onslaught of heated arguments that kicked off our… situationship. Not even his sister.
“Ewwww, no. Not the sex face. Stop looking at her like that. Fake my ass,” Bianca huffs. “He’s not giving up without a fight. But lucky for you, I’m home now. No more limits on our communication.”
Brody’s flinty stare hardens into steel when he glances at her. “I didn’t take your phone.”
“But you didn’t help the situation. All of my accounts were frozen and Colton basically held me captive over there until you got us a flight home. Where the heck was Dad during all this? That’s super suspicious too.”
One part of her speech stands out. I whirl to face my husband completely. “You booked their return flight?”
“Not technically.” He doesn’t sound concerned in the least.
“Don’t split hairs. It’s a yes or no question.”
His jaw clenches. “Yes.”
“You lied to me.” The pain in my voice echoes in the space separating us.
Brody tips his chin, the image of unapologetic. “I did what had to be done.”
“Wow.” My laugh is hollow. “Does that mean you made Bianca’s phone disappear? To make sure she wouldn’t get in the way of your plans?”
He straightens, taking a meaning step forward. “Twinkles—”
“Stop.” I hold out my palm and he halts in his tracks. “This is what you were hiding.”
“I was going to tell you.”
“Uh-huh, sure. Right after we figured it out on our own.” Another realization hits. “Why did you let me think Bianca was mad? Just to jerk me around a bit more?”
He flinches, exposing a crack in his armor. “You came to that conclusion on your own.”
“But you could’ve corrected me. That’s lying by omission, husband. You’re really earning that master manipulator title.”
“And you wanted to leave, but then you were glad we stayed. Just told me,” he reminds on a lazy drawl .
“That was before I had all the facts,” I counter. “Not sure what I expected, but this is pretty low. Even for you.”
“Let me explain.”
My head shakes to deny his request. “I’ve already heard plenty. You’re exactly who you claim to be. It’s my fault for assuming this could be more than a contractual obligation.”
His boot takes a purposeful step in my direction as I begin to turn around. “Where are you going?”
“Away from you.”
“We need to talk about this.”
I roll my eyes at his authoritative tone, not that he sees it. “Maybe later. I need space.”
“And we need to catch waaaaay the hell up.” Bianca hooks her arm through mine.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Brody isn’t shy about following us to Bianca’s car.
“None of your business,” she tells him.
“Paisley is my wife,” he bellows in return.
Irritation prickles along my spine. “Only as a convenience for you to get ahead by any means necessary.”
Bianca bristles beside me. “Such bullshit.”
Brody flanks my other side. “Don’t do anything reckless. Your behavior is a direct reflection on me now.”
“Aww, you care about your pawn staining your reputation?” The smile I give him is deranged, which is how he makes me feel. “Don’t worry, husband. I won’t tarnish your image.”
He glares when I get in the passenger seat and slam the door in his face. A bent knuckle taps on the window. “Call me if you need a ride home.”
“She won’t. Stay here and plan your next big moves for Benson Farmstead. I’m sure you’re chomping at the bit to get back at it. That’s all you care about.” Bianca shoots her brother with a punishing glare that I can hear cracking through the air like a whip. “Maybe find Dad while you’re at it. He ran off again or is avoiding me. Probably your doing along with everything else.”
“Haven’t talked to him since we left.” Fury sparks in his green eyes until he glances at me. “Can we—?”
“Don’t follow us,” Bianca interrupts while sliding behind the wheel. The engine roars to muffle any response he might’ve made. “Gosh, he’s such a dildo.”
“That’s an insult to my most reliable boyfriends,” I laugh.
“You’re right. He’s more like a constant wedgie you can’t yank free.” She flips him off as we flee the scene.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Didn’t get that far, but we need cocktails or coffee for this discussion. You pick.”
My gaze trails to the familiar landscape blurring beyond the window. “I could use a stiff drink.”
“Booze it is. We’re going to take a serious load off. Screw those douche canoes for trying to rule our lives.” Bianca cranks up the radio.
We spend the ten-minute trip to Main Street belting out the best of Taylor Swift. Nobody does girl power anthems quite like her. That’s probably why the knot in my stomach is looser when Bianca parks in front of The Paddock. I slip the barbwire rings off my finger and lose ten pounds of pressure.
“Oooooh, such a rebel. The honeymoon is over!” Bianca dances in her seat while I tuck the bling in my purse.
“It never really started,” I grumble .
Her shimmying stops. “You didn’t bang like bunnies?”
“No.” Is that disappointment in my voice? Impossible.
But the upward lift of her brows confirms it. “Yikes. We’re going to need several rounds for this conversation.”
“Can I order a tub of ice cream too?”
“Whatever you want, babe.” She kills the ignition and pops open her door. “To the bar!”
Which is mostly empty when we walk inside. Late afternoon on a Thursday is apparently the time to swing by The Paddock. I’m all for drowning my sorrows in semi-private. We have our choice of spots and immediately stride for the rail where our stools await. A guy steps in our path before we make it halfway.
He lifts a plastic spoon to offer a recognizable treat, perched for effortless consumption. “Gummy bear soaked in vodka?”
“Absolutely!” Bianca cheers. “This is the proper way to kick off happy hour.”
“Don’t eat that!” I knock the lofted utensil away from her mouth.
She pouts, her lower lip sticking out far dramatically. “Why not? It’s a boost in the right direction.”
“You never accept candy from a stranger,” I scold. “No wonder Brody sent a chaperone to follow you around Germany.”
“Oh, stop. This dude is harmless.” But when she glances at the boozy bear distributor and sees his gaze on her tits, my bestie changes her tune. “Hey, buddy.” She snaps her fingers. “Eyes up here.”
His expression turns sheepish, a blush staining his cheeks. “You’re really pretty. ”
“Aren’t you sweet,” she croons.
“But passing out from whatever he put in those is not.” I narrow my eyes at him and his jar of bloated gummies.
Bianca bumps me with her hip. “Get yourself married and turn into a fun sponge.”
“I’ll soak some sugar in liquor for you myself. C’mon.” I tug her to our seats.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” she chirps.
The moment my ass meets the leather cushion, a familiar face is on the opposite side of the counter to greet me. “Hey, Paisley.”
My smile comes automatically. “How’s it going?”
“Just fine.” Tyler’s stare takes a noticeable dip to my bare ring finger. A furrow creases his forehead before a wide grin replaces the confusion. “Much better now.”
Bianca thrusts her hand between us. “Um, hello? We’re thirsty.”
He blinks from whatever fantasy is playing in his mind, swinging his focus to my friend. “Hi, Bee. Back from your trip?”
“I was in here yesterday and you didn’t notice.” She flutters her lashes.
“Ah, sorry about that.” He scrubs at the back of his neck.
“It’s okay to have favorites, but we’re on a mission to spill secrets and alcohol would be handy.”
Tyler’s attention returns to me while he begins mixing our usual drinks. “I’d heard you got hitched. Glad to see that’s just a rumor.”
A lump in my throat makes it difficult to form words. “Umm— ”
“And why is that?” Bianca cuts in, her concentration fixed on something behind me.
The bartender pours our cocktails into chocolate-drizzled glasses and slides them in front of us. “Maybe I’ll finally gather the courage to ask you out.”
“Oh,” I breathe. In a fluid motion, I pick up my martini and get gulping. The smooth flavor does little to take the edge off. “That’s not a great idea, Ty.”
He leans on the bar, bringing us closer. “Why not?”
“It’s… complicated.”
Heavy footsteps approach, almost loud enough to quiet the pounding in my ears. “I’d reconsider hitting on my wife if you’re a fan of breathing.”