The Road to Rose Bend

by Naima Simone

  Maybe if those damn shorts didn’t reveal so much...

  Then, maybe he could turn around and look at her, find out what she was doing here at eight thirty in the morning, obviously upset. But then he did face her, and his gaze dipped to her blue-painted toes in flip-flops, up her deliciously bare, thick legs, over the hooded sweatshirt that didn’t hide the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

  “I need you.”

  Those repeated three words were imbued with a desperation he’d missed when she’d pushed into his home. He jerked his scrutiny to her face. His worry surged, shoving the desire down to a manageable simmer. His dick didn’t matter as much as whatever caused her eyes to darken to nearly black, or what incited those faint tear tracks on her cheeks.

  “What’s wrong?” he demanded, his voice rough with concern and rage at whoever had placed those haunted shadows in her eyes. She didn’t immediately answer. She inhaled a breath, her arms crossing over her chest and her chin dipping in a self-protective pose.

  “Sydney?” he prompted, trying—and failing—to keep the edge out of his tone.

  “Daniel,” she replied, voice hoarse. Then, clearing her throat, she lifted her head, and said, louder, “Daniel was here.”

  “Your ex?” Cole stalked forward, erasing the distance between them. His fingers itched like fire, needing to touch her, to soothe away the pain, the fear. “He called you?”

  “No,” she said with a vehemence that was a little alarming. “He was here. In Rose Bend. At my cottage.” Her lips trembled, and she bit down into the full lower one.

  He couldn’t have stopped himself from reaching for her if he’d wanted to—and right now, he didn’t want to. He cupped her jaw and absorbed her flinch. Murmuring soothing nonsense, he pressed his thumb to the middle of her lip and gently tugged, releasing the abused flesh. He rubbed the pad of his thumb back and forth over the small imprints left behind by her teeth. Because that hungry beast inside of him demanded he not let go, he dropped his arm. Took a step back.

  “Go ahead,” he ordered, needing her to continue so he could help in any way he could—and so he didn’t surrender to the need that insisted he slip that thumb inside her mouth. Feel her tongue again. “Finish.”

  “He showed up unannounced this morning. He...” She faltered, her arms tightening. “He intends to sue me for custody of the baby after she’s born. He’s engaged and believes he can give her a two-parent home with more financial stability. His lawyer assures him he can win. Cole—” Her voice cracked, and she abruptly stopped. Closed her eyes. Visibly gathered herself. But when she lifted her lashes and met his eyes again, panic glittered in the brown depths. “Cole, I can’t lose her. I can’t...”

  “And you won’t,” he snapped, claiming the space between them again and cradling her elbows. “We talked about this before, Sydney. He has to establish paternity first, and he can’t do that until after the baby is born so the pregnancy isn’t endangered. Once that’s done, he can petition the court for custody, but if his lawyer is assuring him this is a slam dunk because he’s married and has more money, then that attorney is overconfident or lying. The burden to prove that a mother is unfit enough to remove a child—particularly an infant who needs her—is heavy. And it’s all on him to prove it.”

  But she was already shaking her head. “That might’ve been true before, but with the way this country and the laws have been changing—especially laws and opinions toward women and their control over their own damn bodies—what you’re saying isn’t a given. A return to traditional values. Traditional families. With the right judge, the right connections, the right argument... Daniel has those connections. And knowing him, he’ll expend any amount of money to get what he wants. No, Cole. I’m scared. And I have a right to be.”

  “I’m not telling you what to feel, Sydney. I’m not discounting anything you’ve said, because it’s true. But he wants you to think he has all the power here, when he doesn’t. Unless the judge can determine why it would be in the best interest of this child to separate you from your infant daughter, then you being this child’s mother carries a lot more weight than Daniel’s marital and financial status. If anything, because of his financial status, his child support would help solidify the disparity in your wages. I understand how you, as a woman, would feel vulnerable in today’s world. But there is law and precedence, and Daniel’s money can’t supersede either.”

  Her lips twisted into a skeptical, sad smile. “I wish I could be as optimistic as you. Your job is to defend that law, but with my baby’s welfare and future in the balance—my life with her on the line—I can’t afford to be that confident. I—” She broke off, swaying slightly, her eyes widening a fraction and her walnut-brown skin paling.

  “Sydney,” he damn near shouted, hauling her into his arms.

  His heart raced, and fear pumped through him until he breathed it, became it. She’s okay, his mind whispered. She’s not Tonia. But the logical reassurances did nothing to ease the terror.

  Bending his knees, he swept her up, rushing to the couch and sinking down to the cushions.

  “Sydney,” he rasped, cradling her against his chest, rocking her back and forth. The primitive part of his brain had taken over, and it screamed protect. “Are you okay? Baby girl, tell me you’re okay,” he whispered.

  “I’m fine, Cole,” she said, her voice shaky, but gaining strength. She patted his shoulder, even giving him a quivering smile. “Honestly, I’m good. I just felt a little light-headed for a moment. Probably a combination of all the emotion and I didn’t eat yet. It happens, Cole,” she assured him. She cupped his cheek, her thumb caressing his cheekbone. “I promise you, I’m okay.”

  Bending his head, he pressed his forehead to hers, breathing in her rich, unique scent. Indulging in her touch. He silently ordered his heart to slow, his pulse to ease. His mind to stop feeding him images of worst-case scenarios.

  “You can’t forget to eat,” he said. “Let me fix you something.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Yes, I do.” Carefully, he shifted her off his lap to the couch. “And I was about to fix me something anyway.”

  A lie. He’d been on his way downtown to the rally. The first ride kicked off at eight, but the vendors’ booths opened at nine. He wanted to be there just in case they needed assistance or had questions. But the rally could wait; everybody could wait.

  He strode to the kitchen, his brain whirling, fed by the anxiety that hadn’t fully abated. As he removed the carton of eggs and the package of turkey bacon from the refrigerator, her words spun in his mind like a cyclone.

  How sad was it that he couldn’t deny her assertions? He loved the law, had made it his life’s work. But he would be a blind, idealistic fool to believe it couldn’t be twisted, to believe it was infallible. Sadly, he’d witnessed that kind of manipulation himself. But what he’d told her remained true. Precedent stood in her favor. If the case was being filed here in their county, where he was familiar with the available judges likely to hear the case, he would be even more confident. But that wasn’t the case. This would be filed by her ex-husband in North Carolina where, according to Sydney, he had connections because of his job and reputation. His attorney had similar relationships within that particular court system.

  The scent of frying bacon filled the air, and on autopilot he flipped the meat, continuing to mull over the situation.

  He could not—would not—see another woman lose her child. Would not stand by while another life was destroyed. No, losing primary custody of her daughter wouldn’t lead to Sydney’s death, but it would devastate her. Her baby meant everything to her—she’d sacrificed so much for her daughter already and was prepared to give more. All for the love of her child. If Sydney lost her... He would do anything to prevent that. Anything. Even if it meant fighting fire with...fire.

  He stilled, the spatula in his hand hoverin
g over the scrambled eggs. His breath stalled then stuttered in his lungs. He blinked, staring sightlessly at the wall in front of him, both shocked and terrified at the direction of his thoughts. Shocked, terrified and...resolved.

  Oh hell. He was going to do this.

  There wasn’t another choice. Not for him, at least. He would do this for Sydney.

  He had to.

  “What are you thinking about so hard over there that your eggs are in danger of tasting like a rubber tire?”

  His shoulders tensed even more at the teasing behind him, but he deliberately inhaled a breath past his taut chest and forced his body to relax. To convince Sydney to agree with his admittedly wild plan, he had to appear as if it weren’t a big deal. As if he wasn’t going back on a vow he’d sworn to himself.

  To his wife.

  Grabbing a plate, he quickly scooped the food onto the dish. He turned, fixing a smile on his face and nabbing a fork from the drawer before sliding the breakfast in front of her.

  “Eat,” he gently instructed, then he sat down on a stool on the other side of the bar. He waited until she’d eaten half of the meal then spoke again. “I have a suggestion, a proposition.”

  She set her fork down on the plate, eyes narrowing on him. “Let me stop you. Retaining you was why I came here. I need the best, someone I know will fight for me,” she said, unknowingly echoing his thoughts from moments ago. “But I don’t know how long this will drag on, so don’t even think about suggesting a discount in your fees. I won’t hear it. Contrary to Daniel’s opinion, I’m not a pauper. I can support myself and the baby on my income. That includes paying your fees.”

  “That’s not what I was going to say, but of course, I’m going to represent you. And we’ll discuss payment later.” As in never. “Sydney, I want you to completely hear me out, okay? Let me finish before you say anything.”

  A faint frown creased her brow, but she nodded.

  “Okay.” He paused, all of the eloquence he employed as an attorney abandoning him when he needed it most. “Marry me.”

  Well, fuck.

  Shock slackened her beautiful features as she gaped at him. Her lips moved, but nothing emerged, and he jumped in, holding up a hand, palm out.

  “You promised to hear me out first.” She didn’t reply, but that was probably due more to being rendered speechless than acquiescence. “I know it sounds impulsive, but it’s not. Daniel’s main argument for custody is providing the baby with the stability of a two-parent home. We could do that. Also, with our combined incomes, his claim of having better financial means doesn’t hold water either. Plus, throw in that I’m the mayor of a small town with a low crime rate, a nationally recognized clinic run by top medical organizations—which Daniel would’ve discovered if he’d bothered to do his homework—and a superior school system just to name a few things. And you have a core support group with my family, yours and a network of friends. We counter each point and give back our own.”

  “Cole, stop. Just...stop.” She held up her hands, mimicking his gesture. “Are you listening to yourself? People in romance novels or rom-com movies do what you’re suggesting, not rational adults in the real world. A marriage of convenience is a trope, not my life. My baby’s life. Hell, your life. I can’t even believe...” She trailed off, staring at him.

  “I’ve listed the pros,” he said calmly, settling into litigator mode. A curious calm settled over him, and he didn’t question it. Didn’t analyze why he was fighting so hard for this. “Give me your cons.”

  “Are you serious?” she scoffed, bewildered. “A huge con is it’s crazy as hell.”

  “That’s opinion, not an argument. But okay, I’ll counter with people still marry all the time for reasons of convenience—companionship, finances, expectations, even business. Next.”

  “I just returned to Rose Bend. No one here is going to believe that we married for love, least of all a court or Daniel.”

  “If we get married sooner rather than later, we’ll be married longer than Daniel and his fiancée. And why wouldn’t a court believe our marriage is legitimate? Besides a very real certificate proving it is, we’ve known each other for years. On paper, we make more sense than your ex and his partner. And the bottom line is, it doesn’t matter what Daniel believes. It only matters what the court takes into account to rule in our favor.”

  “When you say ‘sooner rather than later’...”

  “Next week.”

  She shoved back from the breakfast bar, nearly teetering on the stool before righting herself and shooting off the seat. On instinct, he stood, reaching for her but she backed away.

  “I don’t know what the hell this is. But no. No way in hell.”

  “Sydney.”

  “No,” she repeated, slamming up a hand. He obeyed it, respecting her space. Digging her fingers into her hair, she loosened the crown of curls piled on top of her head. Spinning away from him, she paced across the limited expanse of the living room. “I refused to head back into a marriage that would have been a loveless, emotionally sterile household. After Carlin...” An arm lowered, and delicate fingers circled her neck. “I grew up in that. I couldn’t do that to my child. I chose to raise my baby in a single-parent home rather than put that burden on her. The burden of being my happiness. And now you’re proposing that I undo those choices. That they’re no longer valid. I can’t...”

  “I’m not saying any such thing. You made the decisions you did at the time, and they were right for you—for both of you. But here, now, it’s time to make another decision. Your baby wouldn’t grow up in a barren home. You and I are friends. We have mutual respect and affection for one another. There’s...attraction there.”

  Jesus, wasn’t that the understatement of the century? As if attraction could accurately describe the greed and lust that consumed him whenever he was within breathing distance of her. Even the ever-present guilt couldn’t extinguish it. In a perverse way, the guilt inflamed it.

  He got Tonia pregnant. He failed her and his son when they needed him most. He deserved this guilt, this shame. He didn’t deserve to be free of it when he was alive, and their bodies were interred in a cemetery. Like a masochist, he craved it—guilt connected him to them. Kept them forefront in his mind, his heart, his conscience.

  And maybe he was just a desperate addict trying to find a way to justify having Sydney.

  “Right.” An edge entered her voice, curling a corner of her mouth, glinting in her eyes. “About that ‘attraction.’ Do you intend for this marriage of convenience to be a platonic arrangement? Sexless?” She scoffed. “I might be pregnant, but I need to be touched. I want the connection that comes from physical intimacy. I want the pleasure. You know what, Cole? I want orgasms.”

  Burning hot.

  How the fuck did he just instantaneously combust while still standing here?

  Desire licked every inch of his skin as if his clothes had evaporated under the heat of his lust. His skin prickled, and awareness of her—of each breath, each rise and fall of her chest, each blink of an eyelash—danced over him as if he’d become a tuning fork set to pick up only her frequency. His cock pounded, blood streaming to it like all his veins had changed course and now charged to one destination. He ground his teeth against the wicked, goddamn delicious throb. Craved the only thing that would ease it, make it disappear...for a while.

  He craved her.

  “Can you give me that?” she demanded, sarcasm as thick as cream.

  “Is that what you want from me?” he asked quietly.

  For the first time since she’d backed away from the breakfast bar, her anger faltered. And uncertainty, along with a bruising vulnerability, flickered in her eyes.

  “Does it matter?” she murmured. “It’s not what you want from me. You’ve made that very clear. A kiss is one thing, but sex? Sharing a bed? Sharing a life? You’ve only desired that
with one woman, and she’s not me. That woman is gone.” Her shoulders slumped a fraction, and on a weighty sigh, she turned. Several curls of hair had escaped her bun due to agitated fingers and they sprung around her head, glinting in the sunlight that streamed through the large living room window. “Your heart belongs to Tonia, and we both know that.”

  “Sydney, look at me. Please,” he softly tacked on, approaching her.

  He should deny her statement, reassure her—hell, say or do anything to get her to agree to his proposal. At some point between him laying out his proposition and her turning him down, it’d become vital for her to accept. He needed to give her this future with primary custody of her daughter.

  He needed to protect her.

  But as she pivoted and met his gaze, he couldn’t lie to her. Couldn’t allow her to walk into this under false pretenses, believing, hoping he could give her something he was incapable of offering anyone.

  “You’re right. Love is not included in this. I can’t...” He ground his teeth together. Man up, a furious whisper hissed inside his head.

  “I understand, Cole,” she said. And he sensed that she truly did...and didn’t.

  “No, let me finish.” He lifted a hand, but at the last moment, he curled his fingers into his palm and lowered it back to his side. He couldn’t touch her. Not yet. Not while there were things left to be said. “I was with Tonia since we were kids. I loved her so completely that being with someone else was never even an option in my mind. And after she died... Sydney, I don’t want to love someone like that again. Even if it were possible. And yes, I know how much of a coward I sound like right now, but losing her...broke something inside me. Something that can’t be fixed. And I came so close to losing my mind from the pain, the fucking pain.” An echo of it shimmered in his chest, so much that he absently rubbed the burning spot. “I don’t—won’t go through that again.”