He talks more when it’s something that’s truly interesting to him, something that he’s passionate about, and I can’t get enough of listening to him.
“What about your veggie garden? Have you taken any of your produce to those fairs?” I ask.
“Only if I anticipate a surplus, but even then I just load my stuff in a crate and hand it over to Sharon, Pops’ wife, to sell through her stall,” he says. “I’ve never made a business out of my gardening, just the occasional spare change. It’s the furniture that pays off.”
“I saw some unfinished pieces in your workspace.”
He smiles. “Yeah, I noticed you looking more than once.”
“You watch me, huh?”
“All the time,” Daley replies, making my cheeks light up.
I’m not sure how I feel about that. Truth be told, I enjoy being at the center of his attention, but I know he doesn’t want this to get blown out of proportion. We both agreed to keep our brakes on. The last thing either of us needs is to fall in love.
But then Daley reaches across the table and covers my hand with his, demanding my attention.
“Michelle, I need you to know that I am enjoying the time we’re spending together.”
“Me, too…”
We look at each other for a while before Shelly comes back with our check.
“So, what’s your deal? When did you get hitched?” she asks, only slightly miffed that Daley isn’t the most worshipped bachelor in Dickinson anymore—and while I know we’re playing pretend, I still can’t say I mind being the man’s wife.
“Friday,” Daley replies, smiling.
“Oh. Congratulations!” Shelly exclaims and takes the check back. “It’s on me.”
“What, no? Let us pay,” I say, motioning for the check, but the glare she gives me makes me quickly change my mind and offer a thankful smile instead.
“Thank you, Shelly,” Daley says and chuckles, then takes a long sip from what’s left of his Cherry Coke.
“When’s the honeymoon, then?” the girl asks.
Daley and I exchange embarrassed glances, though the flicker of “What if we do enjoy a honeymoon eventually?” does not go unnoticed.
“There’s so much we still haven’t sorted out yet,” he ultimately says. “I take it you haven’t heard about my issues with Cline?”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right, the bachelor amend—” She stops herself and gives me a shocked look. “That’s why you got married! Oh, that makes way more sense.”
“Better not tell anyone,” I reply, smiling.
“Honey, the whole town knows about that stupid amendment. The moment they see you and that cheap ring on your finger, they’ll put two and two together.”
“It’s not them we need to convince,” Daley cuts in. “It’s the judge.”
And that is the ultimate truth. Nothing we do here is worth much unless we get Judge Harlan Massey involved—he helped get Daley emancipated when he was sixteen, and he could very well be the one to overturn Durbin’s eviction order.
Outside the diner, with our tummies full and our taste buds lingering in sweet pecan heaven, Daley and I stand by his pickup truck for a moment. The sky is almost red, now, an incandescent pink where the sun dips into the western horizon.
This whole town seems prettier than when I first came through. Maybe it’s the lighting, or maybe it’s just growing on me, but either way… I find a certain sense of peace from the neat houses with sloped roofs and green patches of front yard, in the way they line the street on both sides, occasionally interrupted by a couple of stores or a small restaurant—that’s toward the residential neighborhoods. Over on this part of the main street, it’s a surprisingly vibrant place, with shops and a supermarket and the cutest boutiques.
Turns out Dickinson isn’t the boring old town it used to be. Not anymore. Cline’s real estate purchases brought it back to life, and it is now a small hub for farmers and manufacturers from the entire region. It hurts because, despite the good he’s been doing, the man is hell-bent on ruining Daley’s life just so he can carve a stupid spa into the mountain. I just can’t seem to make sense of it.
“Michelle,” Daley says, taking hold of my wrist.
I turn to face him, and he kisses me softly, his lips becoming sweetly familiar.
He meets my gaze. “I don’t mind having you in my life, even if it’s for a while, only. Just wanted you to know that.”
“You don’t mind?”
He smiles. “You know what I mean.”
“Well, I’m partial to your presence, also,” I tell him.
“Just partial?”
I laugh and throw my arms around his neck. We kiss once more—this time with a depth that wasn’t there before, a recognition of this shift happening between us. It will end soon enough, but in the meantime, I seem to be unable to stop myself from enjoying every second I still have in his company. In his arms.
It’s happening fast—so fast, in fact, that I almost didn’t notice. I’m falling for Daley. I’m falling hard, and I have no idea how or whether I’ll be able to undo these feelings. By every possible metric, I should be terrified of what is happening, yet I can only further melt in his embrace and relish every kiss, every touch, every whispered word of comfort.
We’re going to war tomorrow. We need each other.
Chapter 16
Daley
After the diner experience, I take Michelle to The Double Barrel, one of the three decent bars in town. She’s having a great time, and some of the regulars I used to go to high school with seem to like her, as well. The bartender, Colton, was one of my closest friends in middle school—a good man with a tiny gap between his front teeth which makes his smile childlike and mischievous. That usually translates into great tips from the ladies.
We’re sitting at the bar, riding the old leather stools, drinking beer and crunching roasted peanuts. Colton tells Michelle about our days in high school and the trouble we used to get into with the principal, while I smile and watch her laugh, occasionally looking back at me for confirmation that I did, in fact, slip a whole pound of hot chili powder inside the school mascot suit.
“You monster!” She’s on the brink of tears, doubling over as Colton finishes the story.
“But wait, I didn’t get to the worst part,” he says. “That day, Coach Henriksen decided to put Daley in the mascot suit after he scuffled with one of the guys on our team.”
“Oh, come on…” Michelle can’t believe it.
Brothers Osborne is playing in the background. “Stay a little longer,” the song goes with an upbeat braid of guitar and soft drums.
One more drink, I reckon. One more minute. One more time and a few more kisses… I think I can get that from her. I shouldn’t, but the pull I’m experiencing is stronger than gravity. She’s the sun, and I’m but a piece of rubble drawn, constantly drawn to her. Once I reach her, that’ll be it. She will consume me.
“And Daley couldn’t say no to the coach,” Colton continues, holding back a hearty chuckle as he remembers that day. “Not without giving away what he’d done, and that would’ve led to worse punishment.”
“In retrospect, I doubt it,” I tell him. “Think about it. What could be worse than burning in a hot-chili fur suit for three hours? It was hell, Colt, and you were laughing your ass off all the way through practice.”
“What was I supposed to do, with all your crying and huffing and sweating?” he shoots back. “You got yourself into that mess, and I sure wasn’t gonna rat you out.”
“Funny way of having each other’s back,” Michelle howls, no longer able to finish her drink. Not that I can blame her. It’s a funny story. It wasn’t funny back then, and I’ve not been much into spicy food since, but now, as I hear Colton tell it… it’s hilarious.
It’s also from ages ago, or so it feels, at least. I only have snippets left from before I was sixteen. Life with my parents is a hazy memory, at most.
Colton gives me this long look
and smiles, taking out his wallet. He searches through some of the small photos he carries with him and hands one over to me.
“Here. I’ve been meaning to give this to you, but I keep forgetting,” he says.
Michelle inches closer, and her scent is fresh and intoxicating. But the picture I’m now holding quickly captures our interest.
I see myself at fourteen, on the edge of the football field, with Mom and Dad flanking me with broad and proud smiles. My heart hurts—the dull pain that comes back whenever I think about them, only this time it’s stronger, sharpening with every second. The longing. I miss them so much. Their faces are fresh in my mind again.
“This was taken after my first game,” I say, barely recognizing my own voice.
“How old were you?” Michelle asks softly.
“Fourteen. Or thirteen.”
“Smack in the middle of the first hormone storms,” Colton says and laughs. “When we were tryin’ to figure out if dating chicks or playing ball would get us more clout with the older kids. Good grief, we were stupid.”
Michelle snorts a chortle. “I was a Grade-A geek, myself. Didn’t start dating till my senior year. You guys were already cooler than me at the time.”
“Yet here you are, keeping me alive,” I reply, unable to take my eyes off her.
I mean it. I mean every damn word, and I can’t stop myself, either. This is happening to the both of us. We keep saying this isn’t going to last, that we’re just going with this marvelous flow, that it will be over sooner than later, yet… this thing between us is growing. It’s growing fast and taking over my heart and my senses. I’m in so much trouble.
“They were good people,” Colton says, bringing the conversation back to my parents. “I remember your dad was beaming with pride. Coach Henriksen told him to stop grinning like an idiot.”
I’m the one laughing, now, despite the sting in my eyes and the knot in my throat. “He and Dad went to high school together. If I remember correctly, Dad kicked his ass a couple of times, made him look bad in front of his girlfriend, then married her.”
“Oh, dear, your mom?” Michelle gasps.
“Exactly. It’s part of the reason why the coach always gave me a hard time. He demanded more from me than from anyone else on our team.”
“That’s because you were one of the best players he’d ever seen,” Colton replies. “It’s why he was so intense. He hated and loved you at the same time. Momma told me once. Apparently, Coach Henriksen never got over losing your mom to Mr. Fontaine.”
This happened so long ago; it’s like listening to an ancient legend being retold after decades of dust and silence. Mom and Dad were here, once, yes. They were alive and full of love, of hope, of brightness and powerful dreams. After I lost them, I decided that I didn’t want much of anything. I’ve been living in this same limbo for too long.
Michelle inches closer. “If you want, we can find a room here and spend the night. The way this conversation is going, I’m starting to crave some whiskey on the side. What do you say?”
We look into each other’s eyes, knowing exactly where this will end.
I nod slowly and press my lips against her forehead, finding unexpected pleasure in seeing everyone stare at us. I’ve got the most beautiful girl with me, and we’re married. Yeah, it’s a shameless farce designed to stick it to a billionaire schmuck, but still… I can’t help but wonder what Mom and Dad would think about her. I hold their photo up for a moment, and it’s like they’re smiling at us. Maybe even ready to give us their blessing from beyond.
There has been a hole in my soul for a long time, and Michelle fit right into it.
The idea of her leaving is starting to really bug me. Dammit.
Chapter 17
Daley
I find us a room at the Rockbury, a heritage hotel with just ten rooms fitted within an early twentieth-century mansion on the southern edge of Dickinson. It’s an elegant building with a cream façade and white crown molding, French windows, and a tall roof—the attic refurbished into a penthouse suite with a small terrace facing east.
“Back when I worked the summer here, it was a cheap motel,” I tell Michelle as we get our key from the plum-haired receptionist and make our way up the stairs. “Ten dollars a night. Fifteen if you stayed the weekend. Truckers used to love it.”
“And I’m guessing the local teenagers who still lived at home but wanted some… privacy?” Michelle replies.
I grin. “Yup.”
“Did you ever?” she asks, giving me a brief glance over the shoulder as we reach the first floor. “You know… here?”
I shake my head once. “Never, but I know Lauren did.”
“Oh, dear.” Michelle laughs, but her humor quickly fades as she remembers the sheriff. “Wait, we haven’t heard from her since she came back Thursday with our marriage certificate.”
“And Friday she was ‘away’ to stop Cline from taking over my land,” I remind her, gradually pulling myself back to reality. We’ve had a few drinks, we’re buzzed and smiling, sizing each other up and looking forward to a big double bed, and I would like nothing more than to ride it till the end… but she’s right. “She hasn’t called yet. I left her messages, but nothing so far.”
“Meanwhile, my family wants to come visit,” Michelle says.
We come to a sudden halt in the middle of the room. It’s nice and clean, the lights dim, and the bed plush and covered with decorative pillows, but that’s not what stuns me. It’s the Perez family.
“Wait, what?” I manage, while Michelle gives me this sweet but awkward smile.
“I kinda let slip that we’re married. I didn’t mean to. Sorry.”
“Well, it’s not exactly a secret,” I reply. “How’d they take it?”
“As you might expect. Angry at first, because I didn’t invite them,” she says and laughs. “Then worried that we’re definitely moving too fast, until I explained why we did it in the first place. It’s still weird, but they’re kind of okay with it.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Dad wants to shake your hand. My brothers can’t wait to meet you.”
I give her a long look. “Just meet me?”
“Provided you keep a safe distance of a few feet from them, yeah.”
We’re both laughing, helping each other out of our clothes.
It’s late evening now, with midnight drawing close. The sky is pure indigo and drizzled with stars, a full moon watching us from just above the Rockbury. The sheets smell of lilac and lavender, and there’s a couple of artisanal mints in cute paper wrappings left on the pillow, along with a welcome card. This place has come a long way since I first set foot in here.
“They’re welcome anytime,” I say to Michelle.
Words are drifting away altogether as our focus turns to one another. The scent of beer and peanuts lingers, along with a faint whiff of pecan pie. It’s as if the whole day left its imprint on us, making sure we remember the moments we spent together.
I tuck a black lock behind her ear, then trace the contour of her neck. “My door will always be open to you and the people you love, Michelle.”
“I’ll be happy to be your Minneapolis guide, too,” she says, and I like the sound of that promise. By now, most of our clothes have ended up on the floor, our souls burning brighter and closer as we wrap our arms around one another.
“I daren’t wish for more days like today, but I do… I want more,” I whisper in her ear, and she shudders in my embrace.
Turning her head, her lips find mine. It’s a long and meaningful kiss, filled with unspoken promises and fearful hopes.
We make love for hours, rolling between the sheets and memorizing every inch of skin, every curve, every fine line and faint scar. I’m addicted to her. I’m drunk on her. Every time she sinks her teeth into my shoulder, she starts a fire that only her body can put out. She tastes like heaven, better than anything. I could survive just with her on a desert island.
&nbs
p; The lights go out in the street below. The town itself has gone to sleep.
One strange week is over, and another begins. As excited as I am to kick Cline in the balls, I dread the end of it. The end means watching Michelle leave. I’ll have to go back to my mountain. I love my wolfdog and cats, my garden and my workspace, my forest and my bright, green clearing. I love this life… but it’s beginning to feel insufficient. This woman didn’t just come into my life. She’s forced herself into my very soul, and once she’s out, she’ll leave a hole behind.
I already have one of those from my parents.
I’ve learned to enjoy my solitude, but with Michelle gone, I fear it will be awful to go back to what it used to be. It’s never going to be the same again.
Drifting into a heavy sleep with her in my arms, I tread the dream world for what feels like forever. I find her there, smiling from between the trees.
Running after her, I cross rivers and plains, yet I can never reach her.
She’s teasing me. Calling out my name.
Jax’s shadow looms over my shoulder. I should go home. Back to my mountain. I don’t belong here. I’m surrounded by giants made of glass and concrete and steel. Music blares from every corner. People rushing. Faceless people moving like a torrent in multiple directions. Drones in suits, with newspapers under their arms and soy lattes in their hands.
This isn’t my world.
This isn’t me anymore.
I’m with Michelle. We’re living together. Our house is made of concrete and glass, much like the rest of the city. There’s a picture of Jax and the cats—but they don’t look like my cats. I know they’re Spark and Felix, but they don’t resemble them at all. It doesn’t matter; I’m miserable. Michelle comes back from work, and I would like nothing more than to hug and kiss her, but she just smiles and goes into the bathroom.
I’m with her, but not really.
I’m a decoration, a souvenir she brought home from Dickinson.
The Fake Bride Loophole - A Mountain Man Romance Page 11