The Fake Bride Loophole - A Mountain Man Romance

by Layla Valentine

  Only, I’ve seen the social media responses. I’ve spoken to some of the people in Dickinson. They hate his guts and then some.

  Of course, I’ll keep that to myself. Simeon Cline should learn a few things the hard way.

  “Are you done?” Evan asks, rubbing his temple. “I’m tired. There’s only so much garbage I can put up with in the span of an hour.”

  Cline shakes his head and walks off, closely followed by Sykes. “Disrespectful little turd. I eat boys like you for dinner,” he says, but there’s no point in replying.

  “He’s not worth it,” I tell Evan, then squeeze his wrist. “Again, you were fantastic in there.”

  “Get your guy in working order,” he warns. “Make sure Daley’s spick-and-span and a frickin’ angel at tomorrow’s hearing. We’ll have enough social media fire tomorrow to prove to the judge that the only real threat in Dickinson is Simeon Cline.”

  I nod in agreement. “You’ll meet him tomorrow. I guarantee that you’ll like him.”

  “Oh, I’m sure of it. Michelle, it takes a special kind of man to get you so riled up. Daley Fontaine has to be quite something.”

  Evan and I used to date in college. It’s been years since we broke up, but we’ve kept in touch, mostly through yearly Christmas greetings and the occasional “How’ve you been?” dropped on each other’s social media pages. He’s a good man, and an even better lawyer. I dare say he’s way better than me. It’s exactly what I need to keep my promise to Daley.

  My phone rings. “We’re here,” Dad says, and my heart skips a beat, but before I can ask him where in Dickinson exactly, he hits the horn—I hear it on the phone, and I hear it at the bottom of the courthouse steps, too. I didn’t even see the trucks coming!

  “Holy smokes!” I hear myself say, barely able to stand.

  Evan is equally astonished. “Wow, you weren’t kidding about them.”

  “No, no… My folks… they pull through.”

  Pulling over in all their glory, Dad and Matteo have each control of a medium-size rig loaded with construction materials. Mom, David and Ralphie are in Dad’s truck. They’re smiling and laughing as they jump out and come running up the courthouse stairs.

  It’s a carnival of squeals and yelps and screams of happiness and delight as we hug and kiss—one might imagine we haven’t seen each other in years, judging solely by the enthusiasm. But I love them so much. Despite their faults, despite their old-fashioned outlooks on life and love and marriage… I love them so much, it hurts. I got lucky.

  I had them growing up, whereas Daley was left to fend for himself.

  If we pull through for him, if we give him back what he lost, I know he will be reminded of what family is about.

  Maybe nothing will come of this sweet fling of ours. Maybe it will fizzle out before Christmas comes around. I don’t know… I can’t get him out of my head, and I’m turning myself inside out to restore his life… and just being able to do that makes me so happy. It has to be love. The real kind of love.

  “Mija, I thought Ralphie was the craziest in the family, but you have really outdone yourself,” Mom says, covering my face with kisses.

  “I have no words… Thank you so, so much,” I say, my vision now blurry with tears.

  Evan laughs as the entire Perez family gets mobilized, determined to make me feel better. They’re doing this for me. They came all the way up here for me. I will owe them for years, surely, but I don’t mind.

  “Don’t worry about it, kiddo,” Dad replies, cupping my face.

  “It’s been a while, Mr. Perez, Mrs. Perez,” Evan cuts in politely and shakes their hands.

  Mom’s eyebrows shoot up. “You two are back together?”

  “What?! No!” I croak, and Evan laughs.

  “I’m afraid I’m no good for your daughter, ma’am, but this guy Daley is a pretty big deal, I hear. Quite the keeper, according to Michelle.”

  “And half the town, for that matter.” I chuckle. “But all jokes aside, Evan is here to help with the legal side of things. Not that I can’t do it on my own—”

  “I have some big wins on my resume as of late.” Evan sighs, trying to sound modest.

  “Even the local judges know who he is, which is more than I can say for Cline’s weasel of an attorney,” I add. “Point is, I’m bringing my top game to the table, and Evan is the best person I could ask for.”

  Matteo pats him on the shoulder. “Well, at least you’re still useful.”

  Evan laughs. “Let’s just hope that counts for something,” he replies.

  There’s not much left for us to do, other than to get Cline out of this town one way or another. Evan thinks we’ll be able to halt the eviction order through Massey, which is why I brought my family over to help. The bigger fight will be fought in the Ninth Circuit, most likely, but there will be plenty of time till then, and Daley needs our support.

  He needs me.

  Oh, God, he needs me, and I need him.

  Chapter 22

  Michelle

  The next day, Evan and I are back in court for Daley’s bail hearing.

  This time, Daley has joined us. I brought him some clothes from one of the boxes carelessly packed by the eviction workers, along with a shaving kit. He’s looking handsome and fresh—I’d grant him bail if I were the judge, solely on the basis of that cute dimple in his chin.

  “You’ll have to forgive me,” Daley whispers as we take our seats at the defendant’s table. “But I just realized something, now.”

  We’re the only ones around today, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. It does make me wonder if Cline has finally picked up on the rapid destruction of his public image within the town and the county. News travels fast in these parts, and there’s only so much muscling you can do before the North Dakotans finally have enough and send you packing.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “I missed you.”

  “Oh, Daley…” I could kiss him. But Evan clears his throat, and the side door opens.

  Immediately, we stand up as Judge Durbin comes in, accompanied by his bailiff. My knees go weak.

  “Uh-oh,” I breathe.

  “Uh-oh?” Daley asks, understandably alarmed by my reaction.

  “Keep it cool,” Evan cuts in. “You’ve got this, Michelle.”

  “Uh-oh?” Daley asks again, waiting for my clarification just as Judge Durbin takes his seat and opens the case file.

  “That’s Judge Durbin. The one helping Cline,” I say.

  Daley goes quiet, but he isn’t scared. Irritated, maybe, resentful of the man who signed the eviction notice to begin with, but that’s about it.

  The three of us remain standing, beads of sweat trickling down the back of my neck. Thank the stars the local fashion stores had pantsuits in my size; showing up in hiking gear would’ve been a non-starter for a man like Durbin.

  “I understand you disputed my decision regarding Mr. Fontaine’s ownership, but you didn’t have the balls to bring it to me.” The judge cuts right to the chase, and I don’t know whether I should feel relieved or terrified.

  “Your Honor—” I begin, but he cuts me off.

  “You went to Harlan Massey instead.”

  “If you could just—”

  “I’d call it cowardice,” he stops me again. “Nevertheless, I understand. A man’s home is sacred, and I’m not a fan of Article 492/1889, anyway.”

  For a moment, I’m not sure what’s happening. The air is so thick, I can barely breathe. My entire defense has vanished, and I’m left shaking before the judge. There is something about the man that demands one’s utmost respect. Gah, now I feel bad for going to Massey instead of trying harder to reach out to Durbin.

  “We’ll discuss that another time, however,” Durbin continues. His silver hair is neatly combed back and slathered with pomade, reminding me of a 1950s advertisement for men’s grooming products. “We’re dealing with a slightly more unpleasant issue here, I see.”

  “Yes, s
ir,” I reply, taking a deep breath.

  The bailiff reads out the case number and title. Durbin shakes his head slowly in what I can only assume is genuine disappointment.

  “I had a feeling it would lead to this,” Durbin says, then looks at Daley. “But given your clean record and numerous declarations from some of Dickinson’s most upstanding citizens, each written in your favor, I will grant you bail, Mr. Fontaine.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Daley nods once.

  “I am also issuing a restraining order. You are not to be within fifty feet of Simeon Cline at any given moment, with the exception of law enforcement present. He is also barred from your property for the time being, until Judge Massey reaches a decision regarding my eviction order, which, by the way…” He looks to me again, and I hate having his attention. “Dirty move, miss. Good call, but a dirty move nonetheless.”

  I’m not sure what to say. “Thank you?”

  He scoffs and bangs his gavel, and the bailiff comes over and takes Daley’s cuffs off.

  “Bail is set a five thousand dollars. Is that acceptable?” Judge Durbin asks.

  “Yes, sir,” Evan replies. “Payable immediately.”

  “Good. I wouldn’t want him sticking around for much longer, anyway.”

  Durbin gets up and leaves the room, followed by the bailiff.

  We’re left on our own, breathing heavy sighs of relief as we try to take everything in. This is but one step in the right direction, and I dare not look up with wide eyes and naïve hope—no, I’m holding on to my skepticism this time. But Daley takes me by surprise with a deep and soulful kiss.

  I whimper softly against his lips, completely forgetting about Evan and the fact that we’re still in a court of law. It doesn’t matter.

  I’ve missed him, too. I see it, now. I feel it. The longing that’s been keeping me company since Lauren took him away the other night. What a mess this has become. What a beautiful, scary, confusing mess.

  Finally, Daley pulls back and smiles. “My debt to you is getting huge.”

  “More like gargantuan,” Evan replies from behind.

  “And you. I owe you, too.”

  “Meh. If I get to kick a greedy billionaire out of town, I’m happy.”

  Daley laughs, and I feel a sense of relief. My stomach doesn’t churn like earlier. He’s already doing better because he’s free. I made sure he didn’t lack anything while in jail, with both Lauren and Banner supplementing my efforts. It’s this happiness in my soul that’s such an unexpected surprise. I want to do everything in my power to give him his life back.

  Truth be told, I thought it would make me feel better. But this isn’t what I expected. His happiness has somehow become my happiness, our souls intrinsically bound by fate.

  “Come on, let’s get you home,” I tell Daley.

  The look he gives me nearly breaks my heart. “Pretty sure they tore most of it down.”

  “Come on,” I insist.

  Every doubt from earlier days sounds ridiculous. I just need to find the right path again. Somewhere in these moments, my resolve shall rise. My future shall light the road ahead. This is where my mother and I stand completely apart. She plans everything, and for a long time I thought it was my best strategy, too. Making sure nothing diverts from the main objective.

  Staying on the straight and narrow, no matter what.

  But life isn’t like that. Life is messy. It throws a bear at you, and everything changes.

  Chapter 23

  Daley

  There is so much happening at once, I have a hard time keeping up.

  My mind is clearer, though. Not that I enjoyed my brief stay in jail, but it did give me time to think about everything—my land, my life, my future. Michelle. Jax. Spark. Felix. Everything.

  Despite the madness, I’ve found a sense of order in this chaos. I’ve yet to formulate my conclusions in coherent sentences, but I’m taking my time.

  Right now, I’m driving my pickup truck back to the mountain, Michelle riding next to me. It’s the first time I’ve seen her in a pantsuit, and she looks fantastic. There is something about this particular combination that sets my senses on fire. I assume it’s got something to do with power and authority, with dignity and strength, all elements which Michelle effortlessly exudes.

  Nothing much has changed between us. We still don’t know where we’re headed, but I suppose I’ve got bigger fish to fry. I keep telling myself that, anyway, but the cabin doesn’t mean much to me anymore… not if I can’t share it with someone. Someone like her.

  I can’t tell Michelle that. She’s fighting too hard for me.

  A day will come when I’ll do the same for her.

  “How is Jax? How are the cats?” I ask, noticing another kind of silence between us—not uncomfortable, but not comfortable either; just somewhere in between. Proof that the universe has yet to find that balance I’ve been dreaming of.

  “Oh, you’ll see them soon, I promise,” she replies.

  “I don’t get why we’re going back to the cabin now,” I say, wishing I could just turn the truck around and head straight for the shelter.

  “Because we need Felix’s tummy medicine, and there’s no point in buying a new bottle. Besides, I left some things there before I went to the Rockbury on Monday.”

  She looks tired. The forest road is bumpier than I remember.

  “Whoa,” I say as we barely pass a newly formed pothole. “The dirt here has been loosened badly. Must’ve been Cline’s stupid worker trucks. Those things are way too heavy to bring up a mountain.”

  “Erm, yeah… I noticed. Dad and Matteo are going to kill me,” Michelle replies, though I fail to catch what she means as she looks ahead. “You might want to slow down…”

  I follow her gaze and instantly hit the brakes as we reach the bottom of my path. Jax comes running, long tongue flapping pink and happy as he nearly jumps on the hood.

  “What the…” I pull the handbrake and jump out, only to find myself flat on my back, Jax smothering me with slobbery licks and whimpers.

  I’m laughing as I hug the wolfdog with every ounce of love I’ve got for him, thankful to see him but also confused. “Michelle, you’ve got some ’splaining to do, baby.”

  She laughs as I push Jax off and take her hand. I’m up again, and Jax circles us with a burst of joyful energy that is downright infectious. He’s so happy…

  “What did you do?” I ask Michelle.

  “There’s something I want to show you.”

  We go up the path, and my chest goes tight with anticipation. She’s got something, she planned something. There’s a mischievous smile tugging the corners of her mouth.

  “I like how you’re trying so hard to keep a straight face,” I reply. Briefly glancing back, I notice Evan didn’t come with us. “Wait, where’s Evan? Wasn’t he supposed to follow us?”

  “He stayed back at the courthouse. We got word that Judge Massey will be making his decision today,” Michelle says.

  We reach the clearing, and I’ve almost forgotten my earlier dread because I’m focused on her with a burning intensity. It’s not until she nods toward the cabin that I see it. The air gets knocked out of my lungs.

  “Michelle… What… What is this?” I hear myself ask.

  The last time I saw my place, it had been partially torn down. Wood entrails spilled across the front yard. My vegetable garden trampled, the last pumpkin harvest gone to hell. But something’s happened.

  Four men and a woman come out of my… rebuilt cabin with broad smiles. I see bits of Michelle on their faces. The black hair. The bright brown eyes. The full lips and playfully round cheeks. The slim but noble nose of her father. The arched eyebrows of her mother.

  “Welcome home, Mr. Fontaine,” one of the guys says. He can’t be more than twenty.

  My home. It’s back. There’s new wood on the sides, and the roof has been reinforced. The porch was completely rebuilt, and I see a couple of new features for water drainage from the
roof. I’ve got new insulated windows, too, and someone even went to the trouble to clear the garden damage, making room for new seeds before winter sets.

  It’s not the same as the house that my parents built, but I feel as though this is as good as it’s gonna get—which makes it more, much more than I would’ve dared hope.

  “Michelle, what did you do?” My voice is barely a whisper. Something grows in my chest, something sharp and strong and violent. It’s as if my heart has suddenly become too big for this ribcage.

  She smiles. “You deserve a home.”

  “But we don’t know if I get to keep it,” I reply, fearful… terrified that it’s just a pretty dream about to go up in smoke and ashes.

  But Michelle shakes her head. “Evan and I have a plan. We’re going to bring every television and media company up here, if we have to. We’ll rally the whole state and raise all kinds of hell, but you’re not losing this place. I promised you that, didn’t I?”

  “Good grief, woman, you are out of your mind.”

  “Yes, but that’s what makes her so good at her job,” her father says as he and the others cross the clearing to meet us. Before I can react, he shakes my hand—firmly, sending a message of his own with a near-crushing grip. “I’m Juan Perez. This is Rosetta, my wife and the mother of our children.”

  Michelle giggles. “You’ve already met me, and now you get to meet my brothers, too. Matteo, David, and Ralphie. We each pitched in to rebuild the cabin.”

  “Okay, correction,” I reply while I shake the rest of their hands, barely able to contain my happiness at this point. “You’re all out of your minds.”

  “Dude, this isn’t the first house we’ve built,” Ralphie says, beaming with pride. “Our uncle’s cabin in Montana? We raised that thing up from the ground, and it’s still standing three years later.”

  “Yours was actually easier,” Juan adds. “Most of the structure was already here. Your parents did a great job on the upkeep and isolation.”

  “Show the man inside already!” Rosetta exclaims.