All the Wrong Reasons

by Erin Bevan

  Sleeping around. On Alex? He may be a lot of things, man whore included, but he would never be unfaithful to Alex. He’d already promised her he’d change. He’d doubted a lot of things in his life, but once he had his mind set on something, he was set. Hot Sauce King, being Mayor, Alex, being the father to her child. He was ready. He needed these things in his life.

  “My devotion is to Alex, period.”

  “Good. She deserves it.” Dane stood.

  So he wasn’t going to stay a while. Good. The longer Dane hung around, the closer Max was to firing him as his contractor, and dammit if he didn’t need the bastard. Dane would do an awesome job, and Max needed someone he could trust to handle the project.

  “All you need to worry about is renovating this building, and Phillip will take care of this place when I become Mayor.”

  Phillip Powell had been recruited and hired as VP the second Max had purchased the old Carlisle building for his office space. Not only had Powell proven himself as a great VP, he’d also proven himself as a good friend.

  “If you become mayor. Reynolds has been upping his campaign strategies. Did you see his sign right outside our office building? How did you let that happen?”

  Max had asked the billboard owner, Bob Newget, if he could advertise on the empty sign. Newget stood firm that he didn’t want political signs littering his billboard. Truth was, the man didn’t want his political signs littering the billboard. Maybe Newget knew what he and his daughter had done under that sign two years ago. Another example of how his past has come back to haunt him.

  “Oversight. Regardless, I’m not worried about Ryker Reynolds.” Max opened the paper to the political section. According to yesterday’s article, he was still ahead in the polls…by a hair.

  “Once all your little groupies find out you’re getting married, they may all quit on you, knowing they’ve lost their chance with the famous Maximilian Buchanan. You’ll have to stake your own signs in the ground.”

  “It would get done with or without my groupies.” He’d recruited a group of sorority girls at the local college to stake signs for him. They’d needed the community service hours, and he wasn’t unaware some of them may have had a crush on him. However, if they decided to quit, he’d hire a company to do the job if he had to. In the next month, his top priority was marrying Alex. Everything else would have to come second, including his election.

  “Because, even if I’m taken, Philip’s still single and so are you. I could just pawn those girls off on you guys.”

  “No way, dude. I’ve seen how immature those girls act, giggling around you like you’re some funny superhero.”

  “I am funny.”

  “Since when?” Dane asked.

  Max questioned why he was friends with this guy.

  “And as far as Powell goes, you’d have to find a woman that can fish because I don’t think that man’s ever going to give up his fishing pole or his weekends at the lake.”

  Phillip fit about as many hours a week in fishing as he did working…and when he was working, he still thought about fishing. He had enough taxidermied largemouth bass on his office walls to prove it. As long as the man did his job, who was Max to care?

  “Yeah, well, there’s someone for everyone. Oh.” Max handed Dane the post-it with Shelby’s contact information. “Speaking of someone for everyone, I have someone for you to get a hold of.”

  “Who?” Dane raised an eyebrow and took the note. “Is she leggy and blonde?”

  “Actually, yes. It’s Shelby Monroe. I need you to call her and get a plan together for renovations. This place is ugly and it stinks. I’ll be busy with the wedding and our honeymoon. I’m leaving you two in charge. You know the reno budget. Stick to it.”

  “Shelby? Seriously? She’s so…”

  “Annoying?”

  “Ditzy. I saw her walking down the street the other day, and she nearly ran into the light pole because she wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Yeah, well, should be fun. For you.”

  Dane rolled his eyes. “I never understood something though, man. You have a thriving business, now you are about to marry Alex, why run for mayor?” Dane pointed to the signs propped against the wall. “What’s that about?”

  Why indeed. He’d watched Alex all these years doing something. Making hats with the seniors at the center, visiting hospitals, teaching her kids. Making a difference in people’s lives, and how much they’d been touched by her. She was his inspiration, his reason to be better than what he was. She always had been.

  And because he needed it. Needed to prove he was more than the forgotten child left on the fire station steps. A child with no name, no parents or family to claim him. If it hadn’t been for his adopted parents taking him in, where would he have been? In and out of foster care? Despite his adopted dad leaving him, he at least had a mom who loved him. He had to help those left behind like he had been. His slogan said it all.

  Helping those who can’t help themselves.

  “This town needs some fresh blood, fresh ideas. People need to be taken care of. Besides, with Alex as my wife, I’m sure to win. People love her, respect her.”

  “And you think being married to her will garner you more respect?” Dane asked.

  “It couldn’t hurt.”

  “You’ve got my vote, boss.” Dane saluted him with his coffee cup. “I just hope you aren’t marrying her for all the wrong reasons.”

  The wrong reasons…marrying Alex for any reason would be good enough for him.

  “I’m marrying her because I love her, and I’ve only got your vote because I hired you to take care of this shit hole.”

  “Damn straight.” Dane slapped the doorframe on his way out of Max’s office. “I need the money. I want a boat.”

  Dick.

  Max sat back in his leather chair and glanced around. Hot Sauce King signs from the past ten years hung from his walls, and his political signs were scattered throughout the rest of his office. From where he sat, he looked like a man who was respected, favored, but it wasn’t buyer’s opinions or those of voters that mattered to him. It was only Alex’s. Hers was the only respect he cared about.

  His cell rang some local number he didn’t recognize. He checked his watch. Must be the mayor. He hit the speaker button. “Max Buchanan.”

  “Mr. Buchanan, it’s Courtney Weld over at the Chamber of Commerce.”

  Not the mayor.

  Courtney Weld was two years younger than him. Calling him Mr. seemed a little formal, but he didn’t bother to correct her. And yet, here was another woman between the ages of twenty and thirty-five he hadn’t slept with.

  “Hey, Courtney, how are you?”

  “Fine, thank you. I just wanted to personally call you and tell you the Chamber is hosting a dinner for all the politicians running for office in the November elections. It will be Thursday evening. It’s a little last minute, I know, and I’m sorry about that. I’ve been out sick all week, and I came in this morning to try and catch up, but we’d love if you could make it. Can I save you a seat?”

  This would be his first dinner not only as the Hot Sauce King, but also as nominee for mayor…and with Alex by his side. The idea of doing it without her didn’t even feel natural, regardless if they’d been engaged or not.

  “Yes, that would be great. Save two. I’ll be bringing my fiancée.”

  “Oh…yes…well…” Courtney stammered. “Congratulations! I didn’t know you were engaged. Who’s the lucky lady?”

  “Alexandra Mills.”

  “Oh, Alex. Really?” Courtney sounded even more stunned. “I love Alex. I didn’t know you two were serious. I knew she was your friend, but I saw Tawana Boone recently and she said—”

  “It’s always been Alex. She’s my best friend and future wife.”

  “Yes, of course. Congratulations! I’ll see you two next week then.”

  “Of course. Thanks, Courtney.” Max hung up and clutched his phone.

  His reputa
tion really did precede him. How would he ever get Alex to think he meant business if his past flings kept popping up to haunt him?

  His phone rang again.

  Alex.

  He hesitated, swallowing his doubt. He couldn’t give her any room to doubt. “Did you pick something super tight and clingy?” he said in way of greeting.

  “Max, don’t be silly. It’s not really an option in my current condition.” She whispered the last part. “But I think you’ll approve. It was the first dress I saw and I just knew it was the one.”

  Hopefully she knew he was the one too.

  “Aren’t you supposed to try on a hundred dresses and then cry and get upset because you can’t figure out which one you want?”

  “You watch too much reality TV.”

  She had him pegged.

  “Where are you?”

  “Leaving the bridal shop and heading to lunch, then to talk to caterers.”

  “What about the puppies? You already fed them?”

  “The shelter called and said they had it taken care of this morning, so we got to skip that part. Mom was a little bummed. She loves the dogs, but dress shopping snapped her out of her sadness. I was thinking of October third for the wedding date. How does that sound to you?”

  Three weeks away. Too far away as far as he was concerned.

  “Sounds perfect. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”

  “October third in my parents’ backyard. I want to keep it small, if that’s okay with you. My parents don’t have a lot of money, and since this isn’t really a real marriage, I don’t want them spending—”

  He had to stop her. He couldn’t sit back and listen to her repeat the not real marriage part over and over.

  “Alex, you don’t have to worry about the money. Have whatever you want. I’ll pay for it.”

  “Max. You know you shouldn’t do that. I feel so bad.” That last part was spoken so quietly he almost didn’t catch it. “You’re doing all of this to help me. I could never pay you back.”

  He wanted to shake her through the phone. Tell her he did it because he loved her, and he wanted her to be happy. He wanted her baby to be happy, and to be a father like he never had, but she wasn’t ready. Besides, she wouldn’t believe him anyway.

  “Alex, get what you want. It’s all going to be fine.”

  “Well…okay. If you’re sure.” She sounded defeated.

  “Alex, what’s wrong? Is there something else?” His stomach twisted. He’d have nearly an entire month to worry if she would call the whole thing off before they ever made it down the aisle. He’d have to do something about that.

  “It’s Mom.”

  “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Nothing. It’s just she’s so happy. I hate lying to her like this. I told her we were getting married so quickly because of your campaign.”

  “That is partially true, Alex.”

  “Part truth isn’t full truth, Max. I just don’t want to disappoint them. They’re so proud of me teaching at the Christian school, and they love you. They can’t wait for you to be their son-in-law.”

  “They…they said that?” The Mills had been the only family he’d ever known. The only family, besides his mother, that he’d ever given a damn about and who’d given a damn about him, but to be officially in. To truly belong to a family…he never thought about that added bonus when he asked Alex to marry him.

  He would have a real family.

  “It’s going to crush them when we get divorced.”

  There she went again. He had to steer her away from these thoughts.

  “You’re thinking too hard again. Let’s plan the marriage before the divorce, okay? Where can I meet you?”

  “You’re right. One thing at a time. Meet me at Dawson’s at noon. Mom said Pat Dawson has some catering ideas.”

  Dawson and his pub style restaurant was one of his first clients for Hot Sauce King, but the place was a burger and wing shack. What in the world could they cater? Fish and chips?

  “Sure, but Alex, I mean it. Whatever you want, we will make happen. Let this be the wedding of your dreams. Don’t hold back.”

  “My dreams? Don’t you think that’s going over the top?”

  Hell, no. He wanted her to have whatever she wanted. She deserved it all. “I think if we don’t, it might look suspicious. We’re having a quick wedding because you’re pregnant. While no one knows that fact other than you and me, and I assume Shelby, people might get suspicious. Let’s not give them more to talk about.”

  “You’re right. People are already going to be suspicious, aren’t they? I hope no one asks me, Max. I hate lying. I can’t keep it up.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s not good for the baby. It’s all going to be okay. You just plan the wedding of your dreams and let me worry about the rest.”

  “Then I should warn you, Shelby is my maid-of-honor.”

  Of course, she is. He really did have to thank her for how his future was shaping out. He’d hated her three weeks ago for allowing Alex to make such a mistake and now…now he could kiss the woman.

  “No problem. Dane’s my best man. The two are going to be working close together soon with renovations. This will be a nice ice breaker for them.”

  “Oh, you’ve decided to use her. I’m so glad. She really will do an amazing job renovating your offices.”

  She’d better. “I imagine she will.”

  “You know, it’s funny.” Alex chuckled on the other end of the line.

  Laughter was good. Maybe she’d stopped worrying so much.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I never imagined being pregnant when I thought about being a bride, but you know what Max?”

  “What?”

  “Even though this baby is a surprise, I’m glad it happened. Because he or she is going to be so loved by having you in its life, for however long, even if it is just for a little while. Thank you for doing this, not for me and not for yourself, but for my baby.”

  That was Alex, completely unselfish and always caring of others. And that made him want her even more.

  “Of course. I’ll see you in a few.” He hung up, allowing her words to wash over him.

  He was going to step in and be a father to her baby. But he would do more than that, he would adopt the baby, and with that they would be bound together for life, with or without a marriage. Still, like the idea of Reynolds winning the mayoral election, the idea of divorce unsettled his nerves.

  They would be a real family. All three of them. Forever. He’d make sure of it.

  Max’s phone rang again.

  The mayor.

  Time to work some magic.

  12

  The number rolled through Max’s mind as he drove to the restaurant; one hundred thousand dollars—or selling thirty thousand bottles of hot sauce—to save the center. One hundred thousand dollars the city didn’t have and neither did he for something extra like that. Not yet. Not without more investors. All of his assets were tied into his company, and the money he did make always went back in.

  He parked his car and stared at the brown, run-down building of Dawson’s Burger Shack, his hope sinking like the rafters on the old place. His soon-to-be bride was inside the greasy spoon waiting for good news. How was he going to tell her he didn’t have the answer to save the center yet? He couldn’t, but hopefully he arrived before she picked the cheapest route possible for their wedding. While he might not have a ton of liquid cash flow, he had enough to give her a proper, small, backyard wedding.

  Wings and beer weren’t going to cut it.

  Upon entering the restaurant, Pat Dawson, the short, plump owner stood by the entrance.

  “There he is. Our future mayor and groom-to-be.” Dawson slid around the hostess stand and slapped Max on the arm with his meaty hand.

  No denying the man could easily be mistaken for Danny DeVito’s younger brother, though with a Southern lilt. The epitome of a 1950s diner owner, Dawson donned
a red, greased stained apron and a white collared, short-sleeved shirt. The only thing he missed was the little red and white sailor-looking hat.

  “Can I count on your vote?” Max teased.

  “You can if you let me cater your wedding.”

  “Hard bargain you make there.” Max smiled as he shook the man’s hand, but inside he cringed as his feet stuck to the wooden floor. “I’ll have to let the lady decide. Whatever she wants.”

  “Hey, you’re smarter than I thought.” Pat laughed. “You got my vote after all. Come on.” He hooked a thumb behind him. “I put the ladies in the back room so we can all talk.”

  Max followed the gleaming bald spot on the back of Pat’s head. The place was one long rectangle. Five televisions hung from various points in the room, playing everything from last night’s football highlights, to a woman-paneled daytime talk show. Besides the thick layer of grease, the wooden floors lay covered in empty peanut shells that crunched under his shoes with every step he made as hull dust formed a cloud around his legs like an exploding atomic bomb.

  This was looking less and less ideal for a wedding caterer. He passed the wooden bar with vinyl barstools and waved to several citizens on his way. A group of firefighters sat in a far corner table and he gave them a simple head nod. Chief Sanders waved in return. Sanders and he always had a mutual understanding. If not for the fireman finding him when he did…a baby on the station steps all those winters ago, Max wouldn’t be alive today. Yet Sanders never brought up saving Max. The Chief seemed to understand constantly reliving a past, remembering you weren’t wanted as a child, wasn’t something any man wanted to dwell over. Thankfully, Max had new parents take him in, even if his sorry adopted father ran off on him and his mother.

  Something he would never do.

  Other than a nod every time they saw each other, and the hunting trip Max gifted Sanders every year on the man’s birthday, the two didn’t converse much, and Max appreciated Sanders all the more for it.

  His swell of gratitude turned to fretting as he turned his head and landed his gaze directly on Tawana’s gray stare. Recognition clicked in her eyes and she scrambled to shuffle her chair back, knocking her peanut bucket over in the process.