Chapter 64
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
HUNTER
I cuddle Lola tighter, knowing she leaves for New York in a few hours. She’s going to be safe.
Yet, I selfishly like our little bubble here. The ranch. The routine. Her toothbrush next to mine. Her laugh echoing down the hallway. The way Wyatt says her name before he says mine when he wakes up.
Every second she’s away, I’ll be working with my brothers to get to the bottom of who’s been feeding the Greeks information. Colten is meeting Romeo today to help him with reviewing some footage. If anyone can spot a face and put a name to it in this town, it’s Colt.
Lola sighs in my arms and turns to face me. I take her left hand and press my lips just above her wedding ring.
“Are you going to wear these to the party?” I ask. Already kicking myself for the question. It’s my own insecurities eating at me.
I’m holding off on passing judgment on her parents until I meet them. I’m not holding out hope they’ll be happy she married me. I know how it works. What I look like. Who I am. A tattooed rancher with a murder charge doesn’t exactly fit the son-in-law blueprint for a New York fashion dynasty.
But I love her. And that should be enough. I’ll make damn sure it is enough. Because I hope that’s what I am for her, good enough.
She chews on her lip, looking down at the rings. “I—I don’t think so. My parents think me being here is just a rebellious outburst, like I’m still a teenager. It’s just not worth the headache today when I’m there on my own.”
I swallow and try to push down the feeling that she wants to keep me hidden. A dirty secret tucked away in Arizona, while she puts on the old mask for one more night.
I don’t argue. I get it. Or at least, I’ll try to.
Her phone pings on the nightstand. Again. It’s been going off every ten minutes for the last two hours. A steady drip of notifications that’s been drilling into my skull.
She groans, leans over, and snatches it off the charger. Then she snuggles back against my chest and opens it up.
I try not to look. I really do. But curiosity gets the better of me.
Man after man. Charlie. Lincoln. Trey. A fucking list of them, stacked like a waiting room. The one at the top is asking if she’s looking for a date to the party.
My blood boils. I’ve found my trigger point.
I glance down at my wife, who scrolls past every single one like they’re spam.
Like they mean nothing. And maybe to her they don’t.
But I never saw her life in New York. I know she never had real boyfriends.
I know nobody else had her heart. Yet these suited assholes think they still have a shot.
Like, word got out that Lola Jackson is coming home, and every trust-fund vulture in Manhattan is circling.
And I can’t go with her. Because I’m one wrong breath away from being back in a cell. Fuckin’ pathetic. How will she explain that to anyone there?
“Hunter… I can feel you getting more pissed off with each second,” she says flatly.
She locks her phone, tosses it onto the end of the bed, and turns back to face me. “Are you jealous, cowboy?” She smiles. And I know she’s only playin’, but this is something that cuts deeper.
I sit up and run my hand over my face.
“Yeah. I am. I told you I was, remember?” I look at her. “How would you like it if we flipped that? I was heading out of town, and a list of women started texting me asking for a fuck?”
Her eyes go wide. “They weren’t asking for a fuck, Hunter.”
I blow out a breath. “No? They want to be your date for the evening.” My jaw locks. “Have you ever fucked one of your dates before? For one of these fancy-ass events?”
She blinks at me, clearly offended. “I—I…”
I shake my head. Shit. “You don’t want to wear my rings. You don’t want people to know you’re my wife. And you’re walking into a room full of men who want to pin you down.” I hold her stare. “And you want me to be fine with that?”
She scoots away from me, creating distance, and it seems I might as well start digging my own grave with how she’s looking at me.
“What’s the issue? People messaging me? Or the fact I won’t announce to my family we’re married?
” Her voice rises. “How bad does it look, Hunter? Me walking in to tell my stuck-up parents I’m married to a man who can’t even leave his town because he’s being wrongly accused of murdering the mother of his son. Like, come on!”
She throws her hands up.
“I don’t want to hide you, Hunter. It’s not that. I just don’t want the headache of dealing with my parents on my dad’s birthday. I just want to go in, show my face, and leave. It’s not about you. Us. It’s about them.”
She stops, nearly out of breath, and my stomach drops.
I nod. I don’t trust myself to speak. Because she’s right. My life is an explosion. I’m an embarrassment to her. The man she can’t introduce. I throw the covers off and get out of bed. Cross to the window and grab the sill hard enough to feel the sting in my wrists.
I stare out over the ranch. Trying to find the words. To calm down. To do something that helps me instead of detonating everything. “And are your parents right, Lola?” I ask, not turning around. “Is this just a phase? A rebellious act as a fuck-you to them?”
“What the fuck, Hunter. Are you serious right now?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, Lola. I don’t know what to think when my wife is taking off my ring to go back to a life she says she doesn’t want.”
Silence.
I should stop. I know I should stop. But the jealousy and the fear and the goddamn helplessness of not being able to walk out of this town with her is a poison I can’t swallow fast enough.
“Maybe you should think about whether this is really where you belong, Lola. Or if you just like the idea of playing house until the real world comes calling.”
The words leave my mouth, and I know that I’ve gone too far. I can feel her anger radiating from across the room.