Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
BLUE
Other than a quick text on Thursday to check that Lisa was settling in, I hadn’t heard a word from my fiancé. Or husband. Whatever the hell West was to me now. I should’ve probably figured that out before my Friday shift started.
I was driving my old Toyota toward Fiddlers, the same way I always did, with the windows down, music up, pretending the wind on my face made everything easier.
In my rearview mirror, I could see Marshal tailing me in West’s slick black SUV, his face tense and professional like he’d been carved out of stone.
All week, I’d refused to ride in that thing.
I didn’t care who I was married to, I wasn’t changing who I was, especially not while I was in Harmony Haven.
The best part of this town was the way it let you breathe. Life moved slower here. It was pastel and whimsy. West’s SUV looked like a peacock trying to blend in with chickens. And I wasn’t about to start peacocking just because I had a ring on my finger. Well… not literally a ring.
I pulled into my usual spot behind the bar and immediately noticed the crowd.
It was early, but people were already filing in as if in anticipation of something big going down.
Word had spread about West Brooks being the new owner, and small towns loved two things: gossip and spectacle. This was both.
Marshal parked behind me and practically lunged out of the SUV, rushing to open my door.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I scoffed as I stepped out before he could reach the handle.
“Ma’am, you’re already not letting me do my job. Mr. Brooks is paying me way too well to risk being useless.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, but let it go. The last thing I wanted was to get this guy fired before he even got comfortable. It hadn’t really hit me until just then that he might be benefiting from this whole circus just like I was.
“Just don’t get in my way, Marshal,” I muttered, yanking open the back door to grab my bag.
He gave me a crisp little salute and a smile that was probably supposed to be reassuring.
When I walked into the back door of the bar, I could already hear the crowd buzzing from the main bar, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses echoing down the hall.
Normally, I’d stash my stuff behind a stack of boxes in the storage room.
But now I was using the office, so I took a deep breath and grabbed my keys, fingers fumbling to find the right one until I realized the office door was already unlocked.
I opened it.
And there he was.
West. Sitting behind the desk. His feet were up. His eyes were on his phone. He looked up just long enough to drag his gaze over me, slow and unreadable, then back to his screen. No smile. No hello.
“The hell are you doing?” I asked, my voice sharper than I meant it to be.
He dropped his feet to the floor, slipped his phone into his jacket, and stood. “The better question is: what are you doing?”
My head tilted, unsure what the hell he meant. Because as far as I knew, I was exactly where I should have been, doing exactly what he knew I was going to do.
West stepped around the desk like he was ready for a fight, which made me take a cautious step backward. His eyes drifted lower again, this time lingering at the sliver of bare skin showing above my jeans. “That shirt doesn’t even cover your stomach.”
My eyebrows shot up. “You don’t get to tell me how to dress,” I said, stepping closer, being very careful not to unnecessarily touch him.
“Let’s get something very clear.” His voice dropped, quiet but firm. “You’re no longer my fiancée. As of yesterday morning, you’re officially my wife.”
From his jacket pocket, he pulled out a box. Small. Velvet. Expensive. The logo on top read Clara Voss but I barely glanced at it before meeting his eyes again.
“That doesn’t mean you get to police my outfit,” I said. “I make more tips when I show a little skin.”
“You don’t need the tips,” he snapped. “And as my wife, you don’t need to try so hard for them.”
I bit back my first instinct to yell, to remind him that marrying him didn’t mean he owned me.
But I exhaled instead. Because unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong.
If people in town found out I was married to Westley freaking Brooks, they weren’t going to believe I needed the tips. Hell, I wouldn’t believe it either.
“Fine,” I said, raising my hands in surrender. “But this is all I have for tonight.”
“Well put this on,” he said, opening the box.
The ring inside was obscene. Huge. Ridiculous. So sparkly it looked fake, but I knew damn well it wasn’t. My breath caught, but I still tried to scowl.
“Subtle,” I muttered.
He shrugged. “If people are going to believe you married me, we have to do this the way they’d expect it. No one would believe I gave you less.”
He plucked the ring out and tossed the box onto the couch, holding the diamond between us. I sighed and lifted my hand, fingers spread. He smirked, not cocky, but soft, and slid the ring onto my finger.
The moment was stupidly intimate. The way his fingers brushed mine. The way my heart sped up at his touch.
“Perfect fit,” he murmured. “Mrs. Brooks.”
“Was that a lucky guess or did you slip a ring sizer on me while I was sleeping?”
“I’m just observant.”
He turned away before I could respond, distancing himself, pretending the moment hadn’t gotten under his skin. But I’d seen the shift in his expression, even if he tried to hide it.
I glanced down at the rock on my finger, making a mental note to hide it in my bag when I was around my dad. This would be too much, too obvious.
“Mr. Brooks,” I said, as he stepped back around behind the desk, “what are you doing?”
“I’m working.”
“In the office?”
“Did you, or did you not, tell me I had to work at the bar on Friday?”
“I didn’t mean back here,” I said. “I meant I want you behind the bar with me, honey bunny.”
His expression was equal parts confused and mildly horrified.
“You want me to bartend?”
I grinned. “Wouldn’t it be romantic?”
“I’m not exactly known for my people skills,” he said through gritted teeth.
“You just have to make drinks and smile. Let Harmony Haven see that Fiddlers' new owner isn’t just hiding in a back office.”
He looked like he might be sick. For a moment, I almost let him off the hook.
But this wasn’t just about him or the bar.
It was about me. In a few weeks, I’d have to explain to every regular what went wrong between West and me.
I wasn’t about to come off as some wide-eyed fool who got left in the dust by her billionaire husband.
He was going to pretend to care. He was going to play the part.
“I think the best thing for Fiddlers is to show that nothing’s changed,” he tried to reason.
I rolled my eyes and exhaled hard.
“When we’re in Atlanta, do you want me to pretend to be someone I’m not?
Wear the sharp outfits and the heels and the updos and act like you’re the king of my world?
Then here in Harmony Haven, I want the same thing.
I want you to take off your suit, pretend like I’m the queen of your world, and sell it so hard that I have to remind myself it’s not real. ”
I dropped my bag by the couch and turned to leave. It took more out of me than I expected, to be that honest. To admit how badly I didn’t want to be the punchline when this was over. I wanted the bar. I wanted my freedom. But I also wanted respect. Especially from him.
When I stepped behind the bar, the room was packed. We were way busier than usual and Tuffy looked relieved to see me join her in the chaos.
“You okay?” she asked, as she tossed me an apron. “You look frazzled.”
“Yeah, I’m good—just—”
“Holy shit!” she blurted, her voice cutting over the music.
Heads turned.
I blinked, confused for a second, until I realized what she was looking at. My hand. The one I’d just run through my hair. The diamond caught the light and practically blinded half the bar.
“Oh, this?” I said with a laugh, trying to fake that glow-in-love look. “You’re not gonna believe what happened…”