3. Damien
THREE
DAMIEN
I’m still not sure how to feel about the fact she said yes, but it’s both a relief and another heavy worry I have to keep protected in the back of my mind.
Configuring the lie so everyone in my life actually believes it might be the hardest thing to do.
The others have no idea that I plan to use my inheritance to make up for losing one of our biggest investors. And I don’t want to tell them until I know I have everything replaced. I won’t throw August under the bus like that, and anyway: it’s my job to handle the money.
Pushing out of bed, I catch sight of my future wife slipping from the cramped, overcrowded cottage with only the barest rays of sun to light her way.
I’m not sure how to feel about her; on the one hand, lying about being attracted to her won’t be hard.
I have always been a man who enjoyed any and all women.
I wouldn’t say I don’t have a preference, but I will admit she fits into every single one of my boxes.
And as much as I know this will help her, I still can’t help but feel like I’m using her.
I change into shorts and an old t-shirt, pulling on a pair of sneakers that have seen better days, and leave the room.
The hall is quiet, though from downstairs, I hear the back door open and close softly.
I take the stairs down two at a time, only to round the corner and run almost directly into Felicity.
There’s a pink flush to her cheeks that almost hides the smattering of freckles covering her face. She might tick all my boxes, but she’s the opposite of the women I tend to go for. And that’s what worries me when it comes to Bradshaw.
He says he’ll be in town by end of day tomorrow.
Once he sees Felicity, it might be game over.
She’s sweet. Kind. She works in a garden for half the day when she’s not cleaning or maintaining the inn.
I’ve seen her workshop; she makes fucking candles and soap in her free time.
And I also happen to know she’s trying to get bees.
Bees.
She lives in a cottage and likely wouldn’t be caught dead with someone like me.
Playboy, party boy, whatever you want to call me.
I never took relationships seriously, because why would I?
Romantic entanglements wouldn’t serve my business, wouldn’t help me build an empire, and they certainly don’t protect me from anything.
As a matter of fact, romance would likely prove dangerous in the grand scheme of things.
Or worse, they’d leave me like they left my father. He deserved it every time, but what would that say about me? Am I too much like him?
I clear my throat and take a step back. “I’m going for a run, then we should have a meeting about what happens next,” I say, pulling earphones from my pocket. “What time is the contractor getting here?”
“E-eleven,” she stutters. “The plumber is coming here at ten-thirty to assess the water.”
I nod once. “I’ll see you in an hour, then, fiancé.”
I catch the way she shivers and the darkening of her flush.
I’m not sure why, but it has heat flooding me.
It’s not that I’m not used to making women blush.
There’s always one fawning over my friends and me whenever we step out into the public.
We’re wealthy businessmen, and until now, we were single.
There used to be women—and some men—fighting for an ounce of our attention.
Since coming here, Felicity has given no indication that she’s at all attracted to any one of us. She barely looked at August when he tried befriending her, never looked in Callahan’s direction, and during Tobias’s brief stint at the inn, she gave him a wide—professional—birth. And me…
I give her another nod as I place the earphones in and connect them to my phone.
It’s the same routine I have every morning, and yet today it feels harder to commit to.
Felicity doesn’t stop me as I leave the inn and follow the street to the very end, which has a short, beaten trail leading into the trees.
I found the track on one of my first visits to town, and very rarely do I see others on it.
Today, though, I’m met with six other guys and an older man who wave me along. The older one looks pissed, and he’s familiar enough that I take a second look at the other guys.
Well, I’ll be damned. I really hadn’t believed Tobias when he said our assistant was the daughter of a hockey coach, and yet, that man barks orders at the six players he’s dragged into Willow Ridge.
All I can do is shake my head at the strangeness of the town.
Unfortunately, the run doesn’t give me the clarity I need. My mind is filled with thoughts of this plan. I know I can make it work. Bradshaw might doubt me, but I can show him I love Felicity enough to marry her. He knows better than anyone my stance on relationships.
But that might just hurt our chances more, so I need her to give a convincing lie.
As I jog back to the old inn, I go in the back way towards the gardens.
I can’t help but admit how…peaceful the place is.
I haven’t felt so at ease in a new location in a long time.
The back of the inn has been set up like a secret garden oasis, with sprawling plants, her vegetable and fruit plots, and gravel paths that have old tables and chairs set up so one could enjoy the space and tranquillity.
It’s where I find Felicity, on her knees with two wicker baskets and a little red trolley for her heavier finds. With the sun just peaking over the mountain, she wears a bandanna over her thick, red hair.
“Why am I not surprised to find you out here?” I ask as I come to a stop behind her.
Felicity yelps and almost jumps to her feet, but she loses balance. I grab her from behind to stabilise her, but it has me breathing in her sweet perfume, and feeling just how warm and soft she really is.
“Damien,” she breathes, slumping in my arms. “What?—”
“I didn’t know I had to properly announce myself,” I chuckle, stiffening. “Are you okay if I?—”
She pulls out of my arms with an awkward little laugh, then clears her throat. “I was just…harvesting.”
I look at her baskets, which are empty. “Need a hand?”
When she turns to me, the flush I somehow keep pulling out of her is present, though there’s something in her expression I can’t read. “Don’t we need to…talk about…what’s happening?”
I shrug. “I think we can multitask.”
“Alright,” she murmurs, motioning to one of the planter beds. “Can you get the summer squash please? Look for the ones that are still a little soft. They need to be picked immature, so they should have some give. But not too soft.”
I move around the side so that I’m facing her and drop to my knees. “I think the only way to make this convincing is you playing your part. Bradshaw knows me, and he’ll be conflicted. Part of this story makes sense to him, other parts don’t. You need to be convincing.”
She doesn’t look at me as she tosses me a pair of gloves. “So, I need to fawn over you, is that what you’re saying?” she asks, raising an incredulous brow.
“It won’t hurt,” I mutter, searching through the garden bed for what she wants. When I spot the yellow squash, I grasp it between both hands, give it a twist, and pull it from the plant.
Felicity snorts as she tosses her long, red hair back over her shoulder.
The light of the early morning sun catches the strands, making it appear like fire.
“Shouldn’t you be the one fawning over me if you’re trying to convince your lawyer this is real?
” she questions with a raised brow. “It’s easy enough for you to say he knows you and what to expect, but shouldn’t that be the reason why you do the unexpected?
Acting the exact same way you always have will likely only reaffirm this is a lie.
You will have to be the one to adjust their entire attitude to be convincing, not me. ”
I sit back with a huff and stare at her.
That might be the most words I have ever heard come out of her mouth.
She’s always so…soft spoken. Polite might be the best way to describe her.
She’s always been very demure when it came to us.
Not even when August tried being her friend did she speak so much to him.
It gives me a little more hope that this will work. Bradshaw would never believe I’d fall for a soft-spoken kitten. He’d recognise claws when he sees her. “Alright,” I amend, pulling another of the squashes from the bed and putting it in the basket between us. “You have made a worthy point.”
A flush forms on her cheeks as she shoots me a look. “You think so?”
This time, I snort. “Yeah, I do. I should have known better, anyway. I’ve watched four of my closest friends fall in love and all of them are the exact same now: whipped.”
But can I manage the same level as obsessed as my friends do with the women they love?
I don’t have some tragic backstory when it comes to love.
I wasn’t left at the altar like August, or cheated on like Callahan.
My ex didn’t join our company and steal from us like Tobias’s did.
Romance just never seemed like a thing I needed to worry about, and I am okay admitting that.
To get access to my trust, though, I think I can manage to make myself fall for Felicity. And by the way she looks at me, it might not be that hard, anyway.
Rings. How the hell did I forget that? She needs an engagement ring, at least.
I scrub a hand down my face as I check my watch. Fifteen minutes till the courthouse opens. We still need to go out of town to get an actual marriage license, which we’ll need if we want Bradshaw to believe us.
“Is this a little too much? I really wasn’t sure what the vibes would be, and honestly, the short notice doesn’t help the wardrobe department.”
I turn to the top of the stairs and almost stop breathing.
Somehow, she’d found a white dress—no, gown—that looks far too much like a wedding dress to be something she just so happened to have in her closet.
It hugs her chest, accentuating the swells of her breasts and pushing them up, making me realise she has far more curves than her usual sundresses and overalls let me believe.
The heart-shape neckline reveals her pale, freckled skin, and has my mouth going dry.
The sleeves of the gown poof out before tying at her elbow with ribbons, and the skirt of the dress billows to her ankles.
To my surprise, she’s even donned heels rather than her usual muddy boots.
A ribbon ties her hair back, but soft curls frame her round face, making her appear like an actual bride—and not the fake one she’s meant to be.
I blink hard before shaking my head. “You, ah, no, you look…amazing,” I stutter, voice tight. I reach for her, clearing my throat. “Come on, we need to go. I have to stop at Brightman’s for rings.”
As she comes down the stairs, skirt and hair bouncing, a thoughtful look crosses her face.
“For now, what if we used something a little more…personal?” She ignores my hand as she moves towards a door that’s always been locked.
I watch as she pulls keys from her dress pocket.
“I have the rings my grandparents wore. If that’s okay.
I promised my grandmother I would wear her ring if I ever got married, and well, this might be my one and only chance. ”
My heart skips a beat. “What makes you think this will be your only opportunity?”
Felicity shrugs as she pushes open the door and enters. It’s a tiny study. It looks like there’s only an old, antique desk covered in paperwork. If I have to guess, it’s where she conducts her business when she’s not in her garden.
“I mean, I don’t really have time to date at the moment, and honestly, the thought of putting myself out there just…” She visibly shudders as she opens a small drawer in the desk. From it, she pulls out two ring boxes that make my stomach clench. “I think I’m happier alone doing my own thing.”
“I understand the sentiment,” I mutter as she locks the study door behind her. “But you promised your grandmother?”
“It made her happy, thinking I’d eventually find someone who can, I don’t know, handle all of me.
” She shrugs without looking at me and opens one of the ring boxes.
From it, she pulls out a gold band that looks like it once belonged to her grandfather.
Despite how old I imagine it to be, there’s still a shine to the metal.
“But I’ve lived in this town long enough to know the man of my dreams isn’t looking at me. ”
Those words make me stiffen. “So, you do like someone that isn’t your future fake husband then?” I try to tease, but the words come out tense.
I really shouldn’t be jealous; there’s no reason for me to feel any sort of way towards my fake future wife, and there’s no reason why she shouldn’t have feelings for someone else.
And yet, I can’t help but hate the way it sours my stomach, wondering if this is all going to be for nothing.
Or at least, wondering how long this will actually last.
Felicity shoots me a wide-eyed look. “What? N-no,” she stutters, shaking her head.
“Of course not. I just meant in general. I mean, look at you! You and I barely spoke before you needed something from me and well, I don’t think that’s exactly what my grandmother had in mind.
It’s definitely not how I saw myself getting married, but?—”
“I was teasing you,” I say, stepping forward and taking her hand. “I’m sorry.”
Felicity’s cheeks burn a bright red as she ducks her head. “Here,” she mumbles, setting the other ring box in my hand. “My grandmother’s wedding band and engagement ring.”
I take the box as I release her. “Are you sure? I have no problem getting new ones so you can save these for your second marriage.”
Felicity rolls her eyes as she steps back. “Like I said, we need to make this real, don’t we? So, let’s do it right. Okay?”
I bow my head in a single nod. “Let’s get married then.”