by Lili Valente
“Okay, but call my cell not the home phone,” she says. “Mom’s coming to get Felicity in about an hour. I’ve got to help Lark and Melody prep food for the wedding tomorrow and the bridal shower on Sunday, so I won’t be home.”
Home. Her casual use of the word makes me wonder if she feels it too, the unexpected rightness of our crazy arrangement.
Maybe I’ll ask her.
Tonight.
Chapter Fifteen
Aria
It’s the wine. It has to be.
The wine is to blame.
I had a glass of Cabernet before dinner and then another with my signature David’s steak, and I’m a lightweight when it comes to wine.
That has to be it. The wine is the reason I’m warm all over, the reason my heart beats faster every time Nash leans over to whisper in my ear, the reason my stomach flutters when his fingers brush back and forth across my bare shoulders in an idle caress as we study the dessert menu.
Too much wine is why my chest feels so tight I can barely breathe as I watch Nash carry Felicity into the bathroom to change her diaper before we settle on a dessert choice.
It has nothing to do with the fact that Nash is grinning at my daughter like Felicity is a treasure he never expected to find, or that my daughter is laughing at Nash like he’s funnier than peekaboo, Sesame Street, and the deer head jack-in-the-box Grandpa bought her for Christmas all put together.
Seeing my baby in the arms of a man who clearly cares so much for her is enough to break my heart in the best way. Nash has been nothing but kind and patient and just plain wonderful to Felicity since the night we moved in.
And with me…
Well, he’s been wonderful to me, too.
He’s so supportive and grounded and real. And sexy, of course, because Nash has always been sexy, but also because of the way he looks at me. He makes me feel more beautiful than I have in years, and a foolish part of me can’t help wishing this was more than a game of pretend.
“It’s just the wine,” I remind myself as Nash emerges from the bathroom with a freshly changed Felicity in his arms.
I do my best to ignore the electricity that leaps between us as our eyes meet across the crowded restaurant.
In gray dress pants and a black button-down that emphasizes his dark eyelashes, Nash looks even more amazing than usual. The man has lashes like a baby llama, long and sooty and curled the slightest bit at the tips. They’re gorgeous. He’s gorgeous. There isn’t a woman in the restaurant who hasn’t cast an appreciative glance Nash’s way while her date’s attention was elsewhere.
Not that Nash has noticed.
He seems only to have eyes for us. For Felicity and for me, the pretend family he treats with more care than my ex ever did.
“So how did it go?” I ask as he settles Felicity into her highchair and moves her toys back within reach. She’s been amazingly good so far, gumming on pieces of our food and playing with her toys like she dines at fancy restaurants every night of the week.
“Dirty to clean in thirty seconds flat.” Nash eases into his seat beside me, casually resting his arm on the back of my chair. “Haven’t lost my touch,” he adds with a grin before leaning over and pressing a kiss to my bare shoulder that makes me shiver.
Shiver, and my nipples tighten with awareness of the man so very, very close to me.
Silently, I thank God for padded bras and curse my incorrigible libido.
Nash is just too good at pretending. He’s made tonight feel so real, like we’re really in love, really a family. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost believe it myself.
“What are you thinking?” Nash drawls in a husky voice that makes things low in my belly twist.
“I was…” I blink, fighting to keep the way he affects me from showing on my face. “I was thinking that you have eyelashes like a baby llama.”
Nash smiles so hard his dimple pops.
Adorable dimple. I want to kiss it. A lot.
A whole lot.
“No, I meant about dessert,” he says, glancing at the small, rectangular menu in front of us. “Chocolate cake and ice cream, or the three sorbets?”
I clear my throat, but I can’t seem to pull my eyes away from his face. “I don’t care. I’m easy.”
“Is that right?” He arches a teasing brow.
“Ha, very funny,” I say, slapping him playfully on the chest.
Rock hard chest. I want to kiss it, too.
“I’m easy when it comes to choosing dessert, pervert,” I add, smiling when Nash chuckles beneath his breath before turning to the waiter who has appeared by the table.
“We’ll have the flourless chocolate cake,” he says, “and an extra cup of vanilla ice cream for the baby.”
The waiter departs with a nod, and Nash turns back to me.
“So, I have lashes like a llama and arms like a boa constrictor,” he says. “I didn’t realize I was so…animalistic.”
I arch a dubious brow. “You’re the biggest man in this room by at least fifty or sixty pounds of pure muscle.” He leans closer and I reach for my ice water, hoping it will help cool me down. “That’s pretty animalistic in my book.”
Nash watches me drink, his eyes lingering on my lips. “I look at it differently.”
“Yeah? How so?”
“I think of the muscle as a deterrent to other people who might be inclined to indulge their animalistic sides.”
I gaze deep into his eyes, those steady green eyes that haven’t given off a single spark of anger or irritation in days, not even when enduring hours of Felicity screaming her lungs out in the middle of the night. Nash is a giant for sure, but he’s gentle through and through.
“Is that why you started working out so much?” I ask. “Someone’s animalistic side?”
“You could say that.” Nash glances over at Felicity, the edges of his mouth lifting as he watches her babble to the sugar packets while gnawing on her toy hammer. “My grandpa had a drinking problem, ever since my mom was a kid. I think that’s why she married my dad so young; she wanted out of Grandpa’s house.” His smile fades. “Gramps would come by our place when I was little, asking Mom for money. Sometimes, if he didn’t get it, he’d get violent.”
“I’m so sorry,” I murmur.
He turns back to me, an intensity in his gaze that makes it impossible to look away. “I was five the first time I saw him hit her. Dad was at work and Gramps hit my mom so hard she fell down. Then, when my sister, Raleigh, tried to go to her, he picked her up and threw her across the yard.”
My breath rushes out. “Bastard.”
Nash inclines his head in agreement. “That’s when I decided that someday I was going to be big and strong enough to stop all the bad guys.”
“But some bad guys have guns,” I remind him, the worry that’s been plaguing me all week rising to the surface again. Around Tuesday morning, the fact that Nash deals with criminals every day for a living hit my brain full force, and I’ve been troubled by it ever since.
“They do,” he admits. “But you’d be surprised how much size can intimidate a man, even one with a gun in his hand. And being in shape makes me feel more…in control.” He shrugs. “I don’t know. Lifting has become such a habit now. I probably couldn’t stop if I tried.”
“And the women of Bliss River would be very upset if you did,” I say, with a smile.
Nash laughs beneath his breath before he leans in to whisper near my ear, “There’s only one woman in Bliss River who has my attention right now.” A beat later his lips brush lightly across mine, sending currents of awareness flowing from my mouth to every inch of my body, until I’m glowing.
Burning…
By the time he pulls away, I can barely remember how to breathe, let alone whip up a witty comeback. Thankfully, the waiter arrives with dessert a second later, granting me a reprieve, and a chance to pull myself together.
Pretend, it’s just pretend, I silently remind my buzzing cells.
But as Nash and I laugh over the mess Felicity is making of her cup of ice cream and I fight him for the last bite of our shared dessert, I’m struck all over again by how real it feels.
Even when dinner ends and we step out onto the sidewalk outside the restaurant—strapping Felicity into her stroller to take a walk past the busy restaurants and shops of Main Street—I can feel the warm glow that surrounded us at dinner still hovering in the air, making it seem okay to twine my arm through Nash’s as he pushes the stroller down the street.
I’m enjoying the excuse to be close to him so much that I don’t realize why Nash is stopping dead in the middle of the sidewalk until a strangled sound gurgles from the air in front of us. I look up to see Rachael Wertz standing a few feet away, wearing a gaudy tube dress a shade of fuchsia any self-respecting redhead should have the sense to stay away from and a stunned expression.
Her wide mouth hangs open and her big blue eyes are the size of silver dollars, but it’s the way her gaze flicks between Nash and me with increasing speed that gives me my first clue that Rachael Wertz is the Rachael, Nash’s Rachael.
Not anymore, I think, anticipation rising inside of me.
Oh yeah, this revenge is going to be sweet.
Even sweeter than I expected.
Chapter Sixteen
Aria
The thick, balding man beside Rachael waves a hand our way. “Hey there, Geary, imagine running into you again so soon. Small towns gonna stay small, ammi right?” he says while Rachael tugs at his arm, clearly wanting to make a run for it.
But her man ignores her, and I smile wider.
No easy out for the spider this time.
Rachael Wertz has been on my shit list since elementary school, when she broke my crayons in half because she was angry that I had more colors in my box than she did. In junior high she spread a rumor that I was a lesbian that backfired when our teacher, who was the sweetest woman ever, and not about to tolerate people being bullied for their gender or sexual orientation, sent her to the principal’s office.
We ran in different circles in high school, but that didn’t stop Rachael from telling everyone who would listen that I was a slut who had a dozen STDs, all because the guy she liked asked me to the Homecoming dance first, I said no, and she was pissed off about being his second choice.
Rachael is a nasty piece of work.
Always has been and probably always will be. And I’m going to enjoy the next few moments very, very much.
“Rachael, how are you?” I coo as I twine my arm tighter through Nash’s. “I haven’t seen you in so long.” I shift my attention to Rachael’s fiancé, not waiting for her to make the introductions before stretching out my left hand, making sure the ring on my finger catches the light from the shop windows. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Aria, Nash’s wife.”
Rachael lets out another strangled gurgle and I fight the urge to pump a fist in the air and yell, “In your face!” I’m not sixteen, for God’s sake, but my inner sixteen-year-old is probably enjoying this way too much.
“Lee Otter. Rachael and I are engaged,” Lee says, stepping in to give my hand a quick shake. His gaze flicks to Nash with raised brows. “Congrats on the wedding bells, man. You two are a ridiculously good-looking couple.”
Nash shoots him a hard grin. “Thanks. But this one’s got a lot more going for her than looks.” He wraps his arm around my waist. “I’m a lucky man.”
“And I’m a lucky girl,” I echo, tipping my head back to cast an adoring look his way.
The gleam in his eyes leaves no doubt he’s pleased with my performance.
And enjoying this as much as I am.
“And this is our daughter, Felicity,” he says, hugging me closer as he nods toward the stroller.
“Your daughter?” Rachael croaks.
Lee brings his hand to her back, but she stiffens and steps away, clearly not in the mood to take comfort in her fiancé’s touch.
“Nash is the best stepfather ever.” I rest my cheek on his chest, grateful that Felicity is asleep in her stroller and not listening in. She probably wouldn’t understand what “stepfather” means anyway, but I don’t want to confuse her.
“It’s easy with a kid like Skeeter,” Nash says, the affection in his voice so sincere it makes my chest ache. “Sweet and funny, just like her mama. A man can’t help but fall in love with either one of them.”
I glance up at him again, my heart skipping a beat. If I didn’t know better, I’d believe he means every word. I’d think that he thinks I’m sweet and funny, and that maybe…
Just maybe…
For a moment, the world and everyone in it, disappears, and it’s just Nash and me, looking deep into each other’s eyes, wondering what’s real and what’s pretend, and if it even really matters when being together feels so right.
At least, that’s what I’m wondering until Rachael says, “Divorced and remarried already, with a baby so young? That must have been so hard on you, Aria.”
Leave it to Wertz to lift her leg and pee all over a beautiful moment.
I smile in the face of her false concern. “I’m back with Nash, where I belong. As long as that’s true, nothing else seems all that hard.”
“Aria and I met when she was fifteen,” Nash says. “We were young, but even back then a part of me knew there’d never be another woman for me. She was the one.” His arm tightens around my waist. “I’m just so glad we found our way back to each other before I settled for something less than the real thing.”
Nash’s drawl is as honeyed as always, but the barb comes through loud and clear. And there’s no doubt Rachael feels the sting.
I swear I actually see steam drifting from her ears as she snatches Lee by the arm and snaps, “Well, you two certainly deserve each other. Don’t you? I swear to God…”
Lee calls out, “Nice meeting you,” over his shoulder as Rachael drags him away, but I don’t wave goodbye.
I’m too busy squeezing Nash’s arm, trying not to laugh.
I wait until we’ve turned Felicity’s stroller around and started back toward the truck before I whisper, “Rachael Wertz? Seriously? What were you thinking, Nash? She’s a snake.”
“I didn’t realize you two knew each other,” he says, chuckling.
“Oh yeah, we know each other. I have no idea what I did to get on her bad side, but she’s had it in for me since elementary school and was willing to sink to whatever depths necessary to cause me pain and suffering.” I shudder. “What did you ever see in that witch?”
“She wasn’t a witch when we started dating,” he says. “I didn’t see that side of her until we’d been living together for a while. Then it took a few weeks to realize the ‘new’ Rachael was the real Rachael and the sweet stuff had been an act.”
“Ugh.” I stick my tongue out. Living with Rachael is the stuff nightmares are made of. “Thank God you got away from her before it was too late. You deserve so much better.”
Nash stops at the corner, waiting for the crosswalk sign to change. I feel his attention on my face and look up, meeting his warm gaze.
“Thank you,” he says in a voice that makes my insides turn to mush all over again. “For saying that. And for putting on such a good show back there.”
I shrug, feeling shy all of a sudden. “There’s no need to thank me. It’s true. You’re a good man. And I truly appreciate everything you’ve done to help me and Felicity. How kind and patient you’ve been and…everything else.”
Nash reaches down, brushing a stray hair from my face with a gentleness that’s almost enough to break a girl’s heart. “Why did we spend so much time hating each other?” he murmurs, making me wonder…
Making me hope…
I swallow hard, my heart waging silent war with my head.
My head insists I should blow him off with a joke or a lie, whatever it takes to protect myself, but my heart…
My heart is of a very different opinion.
Despite my painf
ul history with Nash, despite my disastrous relationship with Liam, my heart wants to believe in love.
It wants to believe in Nash Geary.
Chapter Seventeen
Aria
Pulse racing and my stomach tying itself in knots I summon the courage to tell the truth. “I don’t know. I cared about you. A lot. I’d never felt like that about anyone before. But when we ran into each other in town it seemed like you couldn’t stand the sight of me. So, I figured it was best to pretend I felt the same way.”
Nash frowns as we start across the street, dividing his attention between maneuvering the stroller and my face. “I hadn’t heard from you since the night everything happened, Aria. I assumed you’d decided to see things from your dad’s point of view. And that hurt. A lot.”
“No, of course not,” I insist. “I told him you were wonderful. I told him everything that happened was completely consensual and that I cared about you so much.”
His forehead furrows as he asks in a softer voice, “So why didn’t you call?
“I tried to call you half a dozen times after I got home. But the answering machine always picked up and I was too nervous to leave a message. I know I should have called or emailed or something while I was still at camp, but I…”
I bring a hand to the back of my neck, rubbing at the stress knot forming there. “I was a dumb kid. I kept putting it off, thinking it would be better if I waited until I was home so we could arrange to meet in person, but…I think I was just scared.”
“Of me?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then of what?” He stops in front of a brightly lit store window displaying rows and rows of bowls in a dozen different colors.
I stare at the rainbow as I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do,” he insists, gently, but firmly.
I sigh, letting my arm fall to my side as I meet his gaze. His confused gaze. Confused, but hopeful, too.