Chapter 14
Hayes
“Look at you,” Hallie teased with a grin as I cut through the kitchen.
“What?” I said, cocking my head to the side.
She sat at the kitchen island, typing away on her computer. Years ago, Granddad had offered Hallie one of the rooms in the house as an office, but she insisted that she liked the kitchen island best.
I braced my hands on the cool stone. “Look at me why?”
Hallie pulled a pen out of her copper bun and pointed at my chest. “You’re in a T-shirt.”
“I’m going outside.”
“In a T-shirt.”
I huffed. “What’s your point?”
Her smile was knowing. “You’re settling in.” She craned to the side and peered at my feet. “And new boots?”
“I was already at Scott Saddles with Cath. It’s not what you think it is.”
“It’s a good look on you,” Hallie said.
“What’s a good look?” Catherine said as she bounced down the steps that opened into the kitchen, carting a massive three-ring binder in her arms.
Hallie pointed the pen at me again. “Your future husband is wearing a T-shirt today.”
Catherine stopped dead in her tracks and stared at me with startled eyes. I couldn’t quite get a read on her expression—the parted lips and raised eyebrows. The slow way she looked me up and down, giving my new wardrobe an exacting assessment.
Hallie coughed, breaking Catherine out of the stupor, making her cheeks flush bright red.
Now that look I could read.
“You look nice,” Catherine said as she slid onto the barstool beside Hallie and opened the binder. “Heading outside?”
“That was the plan,” I answered, still not taking my eyes off her no matter how much she avoided my gaze.
“Enjoy,” Catherine said as she perused spreadsheets of wedding plans. For a wedding that was happening in just over a week that was supposed to be small and simple, there sure were a lot of spreadsheets.
Things weren’t tense, per se, but they weren’t comfortable either. They were just…undefined.
I hated things that were undefined.
Catherine and I had landed somewhere around neutral companionship, which was the best we could hope for as we went under the microscope to save the estate.
Still, I couldn’t miss the little ways we were drawn to each other. The lingering glances over dinner. The way her cheeks flushed when Hallie made comments like the one she had about my T-shirt. The kisses…
I hadn’t wanted to push the subject. All we’d have to do was share one kiss to seal the deal during the ceremony, and we’d be off scot-free.
But I couldn’t stop thinking about that day by the pond or the stolen moment in the pantry. The way she tasted. The way she took from me as much as I took from her. The way it felt to hold her.
I couldn’t wait to marry Catherine Foster, if only for one more kiss.
“If you stay in my kitchen, you’ll be put to work,” Hallie said.
I straightened and headed for the door. “Have a good day.” I didn’t miss the snickers at my back as I slipped out into the bright spring air.
I had been up well before the sun rose, working with clients overseas, which left me with a free afternoon.
I didn’t think the estate grounds could look any better than they usually did, but Mason was proving me wrong. Everything had been shined, polished, and pressure washed. The rosebushes had been pruned. Today, he was by the stables with a truck bed of fresh mulch and a pitchfork.
“Mr. Wilder,” he said with a teasing lilt to his voice as he scooped up a chunk of mulch and shuffled it into the flower beds that encircled the stables.
I huffed. “Not you too.”
He laughed. “Hallie gets a kick out of it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled. “Need a hand?”
“A hand? From boss man?” he quipped. “I wouldn’t dare.”
I flipped him off. “You got another pitchfork?”
Mason cackled. “Storage closet just inside the stables. Should be another one in there.”
I found the other pitchfork, tossed a hello to Levi, who was in one of the stalls with a horse, and headed out to help unload the mulch.
Mason and I worked in silence until the truck bed was reduced to black dust and shards of shredded wood. I rested my pitchfork against the stables and got on my knees to work the mulch around the shrubs and roses.
There was something about the peaceful monotony of physical labor that cleared my head. It eased the stress of my day job and the updates from my lawyers about the contested will.
The sun was ruthless, searing the T-shirt to my back and neck. Sweat ran in rivulets from my hair to my chin, stinging my eyes as I slowly made my way around the outside of the stables. Mason worked opposite me until we eventually neared the middle.
The work couldn’t rid my mind of Catherine, though. Somehow, it felt like she had been branded onto my heart long ago. Or that the idea of her had been tattooed on my soul. It was ever present and growing.
I sat back on my haunches and rolled my neck from side to side to ease the ache from being hunched over. The front of my T-shirt was filthy. I grabbed the neck and yanked it over my head, turning it inside out so I could mop up my face. It was already sweat soaked, but it did the trick.
Hooves thundered ahead. I looked up as a beastly shadow engulfed both Mason and me.
“Grey,” Mason said as he eased up. I did the same, throwing my soiled shirt over my shoulder.
The cowboy atop the horse peered at me from beneath the brim of a black Stetson. He gave Mason a nod but didn’t offer a single syllable more. “You Hayes Wilder?” he grunted.
“Yes, sir.”
The man dismounted and extended his hand. “Walt was a good man. Sorry for your loss.”
I shook his hand. “He was.”
The man’s horse glared at me. I didn’t dare take a step forward. He seemed more like an attack dog who would lunge on command than a horse.
“How’d you know my granddad?” I asked.
He cocked his head to the west, where white fences portioned off the property, even though the other side was part of the estate too.
“Warren Grey. I lease the west side.”
Right. The cowboy who had struck a deal with my granddad to use the undeveloped part of the estate for his cattle operation.
I had known of Warren Grey for years but had never seen him with my own two eyes.
He was a tall tale, like the creatures that lurked in the Appalachian Mountains.
You never said their names, looked for them outright, or acknowledged they even existed.
But Warren Grey wasn’t folklore. He simply kept to himself and minded his own business. I appreciated that greatly.
“Anything I can do for you?” I asked.
Warren stuffed his hands in his pockets and gave a terse shake of his head. “Heard about the wedding.”
“Who told you? The cows?” Mason joked.
Warren cut his eyes at Mason, then grunted. “Had to go into town. Folks gossip.” He turned his curt attention back to me. “Just wanted to let you know I’ll move the herd downwind. Wouldn’t want to ruin the big day by it smelling like manure.”
“Appreciate it,” I said.
Mason and Warren both glanced over my shoulder, and I turned to see what caught their attention.
Catherine had, and I didn’t blame them.
“Hi,” she said with a bright smile as she neared our posse. Her eyes widened. “You’re filthy.”
I glanced down at my bare chest and the sweat-soaked streaks of dirt and mulch left by my hands when I used my shirt to towel off.
“Hallie’s making a big dinner, since everyone’s on the property today,” she said without skipping a beat. “Do you mind telling Levi?”
“I’ll tell him,” Mason said before dipping into the stables.
“Hi. I’m Catherine,” she said with a smile as she extended her hand to Warren. “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Ma’am.” Warren reluctantly shook her hand, but didn’t introduce himself.
“Catherine is my…fiancée,” I said. The term rolled unfamiliarly off my tongue. “Warren leases the west side to work cattle.”
Catherine clapped her hands together. “No way! How cool is that! I’m working on a project that will get more kids involved in ranching and agriculture. I’d love to chat and get your perspective.”
“No,” he snapped before shoving a boot into the stirrup, swinging his leg over the saddle, and settling on the beast’s back. “Thanks,” he added reluctantly.
If Catherine was fazed, she didn’t show it. “Would you like to join us for dinner? Hallie’s an amazing cook. It’s low-key. Just Hayes and me, Hallie and her son, and Mason and Levi.”
That seemed to pique his interest, but he shook his head. “No. Thank you, ma’am.” The gruff manners were punctuated by a tip of his hat and a grumbled, “Have a good afternoon.”
Then it was just Catherine and me.
Eyes, big and blue like the mountain range behind us, raked up and down my chest. She opened those cherry lips to say something, then stopped when her phone buzzed.
She pulled it out of her back pocket and frowned at the screen.
“Sorry. Just a sec. It’s probably Miss Virginia stuff,” she muttered as she swiped across the screen and pressed her phone to her ear. “Hello?”
There was a pause as she listened to the person on the other end. It was a man, that much was clear, but I couldn’t tell what he was saying. The immediate look of elation and unfettered joy that morphed out of the momentary confusion made me jealous.
Catherine stammered and pressed her palm to her cheek.
“Y-yes. Of course. I’ll send the details over.
” Tears welled up in her eyes as she bounced on her toes, trying to contain her excitement and keep her voice composed while simultaneously freaking out.
“I’m so glad you want to come!” Her smile was blinding.
Those Bambi eyes met mine, sharing her excitement.
The knot of jealousy eased.
“To your office. Absolutely. And you have my number? So, if you’d like to—you know—talk before, I’d like that.”
Catherine’s eyes danced along the horizon as she listened to whatever the person on the other end said. She blindly reached for my hand, slipping her fingers between mine and squeezing the ever-living daylights out of them.
“I’m so glad you called. I’ll be in touch.”
That Hollywood smile didn’t falter as she stared at the black screen of her phone.
Curiosity had gotten the better of me after running into Catherine at the funeral, and I had looked up a few of her pageant photos.
Fine. I had looked up a lot of her pageant photos.
That fake smile she used onstage had nothing on the one aimed at me right now.
“My dad’s coming to the wedding!” she blurted out, the words tumbling from her lips, one on top of the other. Tears of joy filled her eyes. “And he’s walking me down the aisle!”
I shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, I was the one who had made the call that put a little needed pressure on dear old Governor Grant. Still, I wasn’t convinced he would truly do the right thing.
I squeezed her hand. “I’m happy for you.” And I was.
My mind flashed through all the times I had thought I was happy. When I finished grad school. When I began moving up the ranks at the Triticum Group. When I proposed to a woman I had actually planned to marry…and the sick relief when it had ended.
Heartbreak shouldn’t have felt like happiness, so why did it?
Had I ever truly felt happy?
Had I ever felt whatever it was that I felt for Catherine?
Catherine and I were getting married, but we weren’t in love. There were no delusions of grandeur. Still, I cared deeply for her.
Maybe that was it. I wanted her to be happy, but I didn’t want her to get hurt in the process, which was exactly why I didn’t trust the governor.
Catherine was too giddy to catch on to my suspicion. I supposed that was a good thing. She deserved a moment of pure bliss.
She squealed as she threw her arms around me, seemingly not caring in the least that I smelled like a sock. “I know you did this.” Her breath was warm against my chest as she squeezed my torso. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!”
I chuckled as I gently patted her back. “I smell awful, Cath.”
Her laugh was light, bubbling over like a fountain. “I’m too happy to care. You’re the best.”
I cupped her cheeks. “I’m just happy you’re happy.”
Catherine popped up on her toes and kissed me. It was as quick as my breath of surprise, and I immediately wanted more. Feeling her body close tempered the undeniable craving for her that I hadn’t been able to satisfy.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I kissed her, slower and deeper than she had kissed me. Hers had been a peck. Mine was a wordless conversation.
This time, we weren’t standing by the pond, hidden behind the trees. We were in broad daylight where anyone could see. Mason and Levi were in the stables. Hallie could look out one of the windows. Any of the riders or trainers in the arenas could spot us.
And it didn’t bother me.
Catherine’s excited eyes had grown heavy with need. They were still lowered to half-mast as we broke the kiss. I watched as she licked her lips, savoring that last taste. Slender fingers trailed down my chest and hooked in my belt loops.
“You coming to dinner, cowboy?”
I chuckled. “I’m not a cowboy.”
“ ‘Not’ is a pretty definitive word.” Her eyes danced in amusement.
I brushed the bridge of her nose with the tip of mine. “I’m not.”
“Careful.” Her lips ghosted over mine, curving into a smile. “One day, you might surprise yourself.”
She turned, blonde hair splaying in the sunlight like spun sugar from the heavens. Catherine glanced over her shoulder. “See you up there?”
I watched her ass swing from side to side in those little denim shorts as she strutted back to the house. Her long legs ate up the distance as I thought about all the “nots” I had been wrong about.
I was content with my routine in the city and was not going to move back to Honey Hollow.
I could figure out a way to protect the land that did not require getting married.
I was not going to fall for my fake wife.
And yet none of them bothered me in the least.