Forever (With the Bad Boy Book 11)

by Wanda Amard

  Marriage

  Wanda Amard

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Also by Wanda Amard

  Chapter One

  Vinn

  “Vinn…” Kimber whispers, not finishing the sentence.

  She peeks down at me, her lips puffy and swollen from our kisses. The pink hem of her dress floats along on the floor — a fucking hard floor. My knee’s been on it for a minute now, but I worry how much longer I can make it before an ache sets in and I develop a limp. The first time I told Kimber I planned to marry her I didn’t get down on one knee, and I promised this time I’d rectify that mistake.

  The longer she looks at me, a certain pain in her eyes, my nerves spike. Sweat pools along my brow, but I refuse to move my hand from the ring box and wipe it away. She’ll say yes. There’s no other end for us. It’s impossible to believe she’ll turn me away.

  A tear trickles down her cheek and Kimber uses the back of her hand to remove it without messing up her makeup. “You see my family and still want to marry me?”

  That’s her problem? There’s nothing I would let stand between us. I want her in my life so badly I would move a mountain to make it happen. I stand, taking her in my arms, and Kimber sniffles.

  “Always, Jailbait. You are worth a hundred Sonia mothers-in-law.”

  She laughs, sniffling again and hugging me tighter.

  “Now answer the question,” I demand not unaware she hasn’t given me a yes or a no.

  She nods and I breathe a sigh relief. “Yes, I love you.”

  I lift her underneath her arms and twirl her around before kissing her deeply on the lips. I hold the ring box out one more time, and she takes it from my hands and opens the top. Her mouth falls open into delicious thought.

  “Vinn, are you sure?”

  The two-carat diamond isn’t much. There are many bigger rings in the city, but I can’t think of anything more worthy of a chunk of my stash than her. Her.

  Someone knocks on the wooden door but before I have a chance to answer, Kimber pivots and cracks it open. They exchange words for a few moments and she closes the door, handing the ring box back — the ring still inside.

  I step back worried about what this means. Now isn’t the time to try a man’s nerves.

  She rolls her eyes. “I don’t want to tell people at my brother’s wedding. Keep it in your pocket until the end of the night.”

  I shove the box back into my pocket where I’ve carried it for the last two weeks. “And then you’ll never take it off?”

  She nods.

  Kimber leaves the room, but I hang back to send a quick text.

  SWAMP BOY: Check the box. I’m coming soon.

  Forget what I may have said. I refuse to raise my kids next to Kimber’s fucking mother. It wasn’t a lie that I’d put up with a hundred Sonias to keep Kimber in my life, but that doesn’t mean we have to live next door to her. The plan is to get Kimber as far away from her past life as possible, even if that means agreeing to work for the largest crime boss in the city.

  I’ll give Ricky one thing. He knows how to play someone. After my last job he made an offer to sell me one of his rentals in a neighborhood not too far away. A gorgeous three-bedroom house, it’s tiny, but it’s a start. All I need to do is agree to work for him, no more questions asked. No more saying no — not that he’s ever let me. It’s the least I can do to keep Kimber happy and get my name on the title of a house. At least I plan to let him think I’ve agreed. Ricky isn’t the only person with a criminal mind in this city.

  Chapter Two

  Kimber

  Vinn’s ring weighs heavily on my finger and I do everything I can not to flash it in front of the people who gather at my old home. It wouldn’t matter, though. No one is noticing. As usual everyone is wrapped up in their own drama. It’s Green tradition.

  The square cut solitaire diamond has to be at least a carat or bigger. Vinn could have proposed to me with a ring from a bubblegum machine and I would’ve said yes. It’s never been about money with him even if I guarantee people think differently. It’s about the little something extra I catch in his eyes every time they land on me. It’s quick and you have to pay attention, but there’s a flash. And that flash holds all kinds of things I want for myself with Vinn — excitement, adventure, and everlasting love. The longer I’m with him, the flash increases and there’s even more in the depth of his eyes. His soul, family, children. A little golden retriever we’ll call Goldie. He’ll hate Vinn but love me.

  “Are you daydreaming or helping with the cards?” Hunter asks, his voice laced with agitation.

  I roll my eyes but go back to gluing my section of the thank-you cards to the top. You would think my brother and his new wife would be on their honeymoon. But Hunter spent all his money on the wedding so they can’t afford to go anywhere right now. He and Emily talked about places to go next month, but we’ll see if that ever happens. My brother is full of promises — another Green tradition.

  “The money you spent on these thank-you cards you’re making everyone help with could’ve gone toward paying the bills around here.”

  Did I mention the best part? Hunter and his new wife are still living in my mother’s house. The money situation again. I have no room to talk since I don’t have a job, but it’s a little satisfying. Big, super, amazing Hunter can’t afford rent.

  “Hunter needs to get a better job before we can help, Sonia,” his new bride argues.

  “We need a few months to save money, Mom,” he chimes in.

  Emily stares daggers at him. “How can we save any money if you’re still driving pizzas around the city? You need to get a good job, something in an office.”

  Hunter’s face tightens, thinking harder. “I need experience to get a job like that. Not all of us have our family’s hand in everything.”

  When no one is looking I slip my phone from my pocket and type out a text to Vinn. Even though he gets every Sunday off from the oil change, he opted out of coming over today. I’m marrying a smart man.

  KIMBER: We’ll take a honeymoon, right?

  Seems a silly thing to be worried about, but I can’t help but wonder if these two would be a tad less bitter today if they were at a hotel somewhere. Even my brother should be happy after his wedding.

  Vinn’s text comes back quickly.

  VINN: Absolutely. Florida?

  I smile, realizing he’s already decided and thought about where we’re going on a honeymoon.

  “What are you so happy about?” Sonia asks, slamming a glass down in the kitchen. “You don’t even live here, but you’re here all the time. The least you could do is give me money for bills.”

  I peek to Hunter, asking for help, but as usual he doesn’t offer any. The only response I get is a shrug and head shake before he goes back to writing out his thank-you card.

  “You’re both over the age of eighteen. Aren’t you supposed to get out and move on with your lives?”

  “That’s enough!” Hunter yells as he slams his fist down on the table, his voice thundering through the trailer. “What mother won’t let her son live here to save money? If you want help, give me time.”

  My mother n
ods and retreats back to her bedroom, happy with the outcome. It’s possible that’s why Hunter is her favorite. He’s always told her what she wanted to hear. The truth never factored into the equation.

  KIMBER: Aren’t newlyweds supposed to be happy?

  I send the text and slip the phone back into my pocket.

  Emily scowls at my mother’s closed bedroom door. “How are we supposed to be saving up to buy our own house if you’re giving your mom money all the time?”

  He rubs his temple. “She is letting us stay here, Emily.”

  My phone vibrates on my leg and I sneak a quick glance.

  VINN: The only place we’ll be arguing after our wedding is in bed.

  I smile knowing he’s telling the truth. There’s no way Vinn would spend the day after his wedding at a table in my mother’s house gluing thank-you cards. He probably won’t let me go for a week. And I’m okay with that outcome.

  As the two of them continue to bicker about whether or not Hunter will give my mom money, I glue thank-you cards and fantasize about what my wedding will be like. I’ve always imagined myself in the big white dress in a church full of flowers and tons of happy people. But after witnessing Hunter’s wedding, I’m not so sure the dream is possible when you come from my family. Has any Green ever had such a dream come true?

  Plus, I haven’t been to church in years. Hunter and Emily threw together their wedding at the last minute because she took everyone’s castoffs. Even the caterer’s menu was from somebody else who canceled their wedding two weeks ago. Otherwise she planned on a potluck. She was lucky, but I want my wedding to be my own.

  I also don’t want my father there drunk or my mother high in the bathroom. But it’s not like I couldn’t invite them.

  Could I?

  Chapter Three

  Vinn

  “Hey, man, I appreciate you coming in to open the garage,” an old guy with dirt-covered overalls and a beard hanging past his shoulders says. He claps me on the back like we’re the best of friends.

  I nod. “No problem.” Normally you wouldn’t catch me dead at the oil change on a Sunday. It’s my one day off every week. But with Kimber at her mother’s house and me sitting at home daydreaming about Kimber not being at her mother’s house and instead being in bed with me, it sounded like a nice thing to do when I received the call asking for help.

  “When they told me I needed it towed on a Sunday, I nowhere else to go. I pushed it here as quick as possible.”

  “To be honest, I can’t believe you’re driving this thing.”

  The car is gorgeous but beat to hell. You have to get past a lot of imperfections to see the beauty underneath. A 1976 Pontiac Grand Am, back in her day, the car was a beauty. Now areas of the back fender have rusted off and paint has chipped off of one door. The engine smells hot, and that means he’s been burning oil for miles.

  “It should have been a project for my grandson.” He shakes his head in disgust. “Kids these days don’t appreciate a classic.”

  I nod. “Everyone wants a new Mustang.” It’s a shame. There’s no style.

  The old man spits. “I said I’d get it running myself and show him, but it’s too big of a project.”

  I walk around the car, running my finger against the olive-green dated paint color. Someone paid extra for this back when they bought it new. The inside is full of options too—well, as many options as they offered in 76. The leather interior is ripped, the seats faded and cracked, but still something with his car calls to me. It’s a tug on my chest I haven’t felt since I was standing next to Kimber. The old man continues to blabber on and I picture Kimber and I riding in the car when it’s finished.

  She sits in the passenger seat, her hair blowing out the window as I rev the engine on the highway. It’s the only way to drive this style of car — loud, fast, and hard.

  Not that I’d ever let her drive anything again. For her own safety, of course.

  With a new paint job, the bumper fixed, upgraded seats, the rust spots buffed out, some authentic hubcaps from the dump, and a wash job, this car could be good as new, depending on the burning oil problem.

  Nothing in life is worth having unless you put your own blood, sweat, and tears into it. Something tells me this car will be worth it.

  “If she’s giving you problems, you want to sell her?”

  He stops complaining about the car long enough to consider my proposal.

  “It’s a 1976 Grand Am,” he says.

  “I know.”

  He pulls on his beard. “One of the best cars on the market at the time.”

  “I know.”

  “I couldn’t let her go for any less than ten thousand.”

  Sticker shock makes me step back. “This car needs at least ten thousand in bodywork and I haven’t even popped the hood yet. But I know it’s not running.”

  The old man seems to ponder what I’ve said and something works in his eyes, letting me know there’s more damage under the hood than I’m prepared to see. “Okay fine. Five thousand.”

  Fuck. If it was just me, I’d say yes on the spot. Screw everyone else. But I used the last six thousand dollars of my rainy-day fund to buy Kimber her engagement ring. There’s only about fifteen thousand dollars left in my second emergency fund to get us through the difficult wait. After that, we’re living on whatever I bring home in a paycheck, which frankly, if we stop bleeding money wouldn’t be a big deal. I’m putting in the hours to make enough money at the shop. Most Americans live on the same or less, but I didn’t do five years in prison to not have a huge pile of money saved — a post-prison nest egg. And nothing riles me more than the fact I can’t go and get my money. Criminals do crazy things when they know every day their life is on the line. My decision to hide money so far away from home wasn’t as good as it sounded at the time.

  I shake my head. Not only that engagement ring, but I have to give Kimber the wedding of her dreams. She’ll want flowers and a dress, plus tons of food. Hopefully, at least one steak… for me. A pre-pussy appetizer.

  “I can’t do it. The best I could do is two.”

  The old man shakes his head and walks away like he’s about to say no. For the greater good of my relationship, I have to let him. It’s a fucking hard choice to make.

  Just when I think the deal is done, he turns around and nods his head, reaching his hand out for a shake. “When can I stop by for the money?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  I run my hand over the hood of the beat-up car and push her toward the back of the lot, tucking her away until I can get a tow to the trailer. It will give me time to come up with a good story for Kimber.

  Chapter Four

  Kimber

  The front door opens and closes. Vinn’s everyday greeting in the quiet house makes me jump.

  “Honey, I’m home.”

  I stand and hit the X in the corner of the browser screen.

  He finds me in the den turning off the computer monitor and stares at me like I’ve been caught red-handed. Maybe I have.

  “What you doing?” he asks.

  “Research on weddings.”

  Vinn’s face falls is for a fraction of a second. He’s quick to fix it and plaster a smile instead, but I notice.

  “What?”

  He smirks, clashing his teeth together into a straight-line smile, which I know means he has something to tell me. Something not good. “I bought something today.”

  “Is it too much to hope it’s a puppy?”

  He shakes his head. “You want a puppy?” I don’t know where the question comes from. I haven’t been thinking of dogs. Much.

  I shrug. “Sure. What person doesn’t want a puppy?” We weren’t allowed to have pets growing up. Sonia said the hair would be gross, and the food too costly, and the vet bills outrageous. But it hasn’t stopped me from wanting a pet one day.

  Vinn considers my words. “Okay, a puppy then.”

  “Vinn, you can’t just buy a puppy.” You need research and mo
ney.

  He smiles, his teeth still smashed together. “No, I bought a car.”

  “A car? What kind?”

  He shakes his head and I’m back to being worried. I run to the window to check but the same tan vehicle he’s been driving for the last few months is parked under the carport.

  “It’s a really old car.”

  “Older than the tan one?”

  “1976 Grand Am. Green.”

  I nod my head. “That’s nice.” It sounds so horrible I imagine Oscar the Grouch driving a garbage can like a NASCAR racer.

  Vinn smirks, moving closer, and draws me up in his arms. “You have no idea what that is. Do you?”

  “No,” I say even though I hope it reminds me a lot of Stella — loud and muscular.

  “That’s why I love you,” he says, kissing me on the forehead, and I don’t care what he buys as long as he continues to keep doing that. “I have to pay the guy tomorrow, but don’t worry. It won’t take money away from the wedding fund.”

  “About that,” I say, stepping away so I can gauge his reaction. It’s easier when I can see all of him.

  He’s suspicious from the way he crosses his arms.

  “I’ve made decisions about the wedding.”

  “You have?”

  As quick as lightning, an idea hits me. Rather than stand in the living room with Vinn waiting to receive the full force of his response, I take matters into my own hands.

  “Yes, but once you go into the bedroom and change in something more comfortable, I’ll tell you.”

  He walks to the bedroom although his steps are slow and measured as if he’s taking his time. He’s too quiet. The whole place is quiet.