Accidental Hero: A Marriage Mistake Romance

by Nicole Snow

  A bolt of heat shoots down my neck as he touches the underside of my chin with a single finger and slowly forces me to look up, into his face.

  “Said you'd be glad, didn't you, Cupcake? You'll have guests for this place. Other guests a lot more pleasant than me, and probably more boring. Because they won’t turn your eyes into magnets.”

  Damn it to hell and back in a chicken basket. Flustered, I jump back, mainly because my feet still hadn’t wanted to move. “Right. Glad, Mr. Osborne. I will be.”

  He chuckles.

  “Keep laughing. You won’t find it so funny after a day or two working for Gramps,” I warn. “He expects an early riser, and a full day of hard, quality work.”

  “That’s me. Man enough for the job, darling.”

  Darling?! And I thought Cupcake was bad. Time to go.

  I'm retreating toward the door, trying hard not to stumble, but I really don’t dare take my eyes off him. I’m not sure why. Maybe because I don’t want to even after his crap and the rude remarks.

  Yes, I'm fully aware how messed up this is.

  I step into the hallway. “We’ll see if you’re truly up for the task.”

  “Oh, I’m up for the task, Cupcake, don’t worry.” Again, that name. One brow arches as he grasps the edge of the door and eyes me up and down. “I’m up for a lot of things. Just sayin'.”

  Fire rushes through me just as the door closes in my face. Unable to take more than a single step sideways, I lean my head against the wall and whisper to myself, “Tabby Danes, I never knew you were such a fucking idiot.”

  IV: Fresh Baked Disaster (Rex)

  I’ve only been working for an hour, and already have a fucking blister. Who would have ever thought? Not me. The past few years is why.

  I had to do more managing than real labor. Not just my company, but keeping after the money Nelia kept sucking out of me. She kept threatening to haul me to court for full custody. No judge in their right mind would have agreed to it, but that had also been the problem.

  The Stone Syndicate is one of the oldest crime families in Chicago. Justice is corruptible and they've got more than one judge in their pocket, and Nelia had been fucking Aiden Stone. I’d have lost any court case she dragged me into, that much was a given.

  That bitch sucked more than money out of me. She sucked out my life, maybe my soul. I can’t find any remorse over the fact that she’s dead. I just have to find a way out of the mess she left behind. That's what still matters. The one I’m smack dab in the middle of, in more ways than one. It's not just their deaths that set the hounds loose on my trail, it was the money laundering.

  I grab the handsaw and start cutting a board in two, shaking off my dilemma. When I’d estimated the time this job would take, I mistakenly figured there'd be power tools I could use.

  There are. Hand-powered tools. Honestly, I don’t mind, delays aside.

  It’s a release for the anger that fills me to the point it feels as if I’m being swallowed by some hellish beast and spat back out, more pissed off than I was before. These hands are used to working miracles, and when they do, they also make me smile.

  Working, building something that'll last for years, grounds me. Gives me the first sense of normalcy I’ve had in years. Certainly since my life went to hell in a hand basket after that one fateful fuck.

  Her pussy hadn’t even been good. I would have remembered if it had. I don’t. I know it happened, can’t deny that, and won’t ever regret Adam and Chase coming out of it.

  I glance towards the corner where they're sorting the bent nails from straight ones out of an old coffee can. Had to give the kids something to do to keep them busy. The sun is barely up, and it’s cold, well below freezing, but they haven’t mumbled a single complaint. They won’t either.

  Even as young as they are, they're made of tough stuff. Thank God and the blessings I’m not sure I deserve that they've got no idea killers are out there right now, somewhere, searching for us.

  There are times since arriving here I’ve forgotten that fact. I have to make sure I never get so focused on the here and now I forget the past. Or the present. Or the reason we're here, and how fucking evil the men looking for us are.

  The click of the door latch sends a shiver up my spine, and I wheel around, ready to take out whoever walks through the door.

  Then I see it. Pink. The relief rushing over me is uncanny.

  So is she. Pink coat, headband, and gloves. Panties? Fuck, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were pink, too. Pleased. But not surprised.

  “Hi, Tabby!” the boys shout together, coming back to life.

  “Good morning,” she replies.

  I catch the way she glances my way, her frown. She’s clearly not impressed the boys are out here with me. Too bad. This is where they are and where they're staying. Within my sight at all times. Not like I've got a better choice.

  “What are you doing out here?” Adam asks.

  “Are you here to work, too?” Chase asks. “Like us? Helping Daddy?”

  “Smart guess. That's exactly why I'm here.”

  A chill claws through me. Shit.

  I was counting on not seeing her all day. Don't need the distraction. By the time she left the room last night after delivering our supper, I’d had a hard-on like no tomorrow. An ice-cold shower had barely helped. Neither had the second one I took after I woke up, the heat flowing through my fingers as I jerked off my frustration, my sick dreams, my unholy fixation on wanting to fuck this girl.

  Now, conveniently, my boss' granddaughter. Hell, boss and landlord. Old Morris could snap his fingers and throw us to the wolves on a whim. I have to get my head straight. Focus.

  “But my work is feeding the horses.”

  I’d forgotten that. How? I don’t know. But I had.

  “Can we help?”

  “Only if it’s all right with your father,” she answers.

  The boys don’t ask, they just give me that look, the faces I can’t say no to. Even as young as they are, they know it, the little miscreants.

  I mull it over. They’ll still be close, within hearing distance if not seeing, so I nod.

  “Yippie!” Their little screams echo off the rafters.

  She holds out both hands and they run towards her, each one grasping one of her hands. I’ll never admit to being a soft-hearted man, but the sight of that does something to me. To the point my throat thickens. Irritated she can do that to me, I growl, “Boys, remember: behave.”

  “We will!” they say. Not just Adam and Chase.

  Tabby joins them. I bite back a grin at how all three of them had spoken at the same time, and how they giggle after.

  Damn it. I need to keep a clear head. She makes that near impossible.

  The saw does its job, cutting through the board, and I’m surprised at how straight the cut is considering how I had my eyes on the other end of the barn, where she’d shown the boys how to pull the hose out of the small corner room and out the side door, and then how to turn on the water, the entire time I’d been working.

  I take my time collecting and measuring another board, still watching her as she answers the multitude of questions the boys ask about turning the water on and off, and reeling the hose back into the small corner room. Then she helps them dump grain into two buckets and carry them out to the horses.

  I have several boards ready before they're back inside. I’d been able to hear them the entire time, but even if I hadn’t, I instinctively knew the boys would be fine with her.

  Strange. The few times Nelia was around them, I’d been on needles. Ready to pounce. Had pounced more than once. She couldn’t be trusted to even feed them a bottle. The one time she had, Adam almost choked because she’d shoved the nipple so far down his throat.

  She’d never been able to tell them apart, either. Her own sons. That was Nelia. One hell of a mother.

  Hell, where I hope she is now.

  I hadn’t realized the anger inside me was being taken out on t
he board I’d been sawing until the end split off and I looked up. Just in time to catch the way Cupcake looks at me. There are wrinkles between her brows. Something inside her eyes I can’t quite describe, other than it makes me feel a touch of embarrassment.

  She doesn’t say anything. Neither do I.

  Still holding one of Adam and Chase’s hands each, she guides them to the corner and their can of nails. I can’t hear what she says, but the boys both nod. Then she pats their heads and stands up. Without looking at me, she walks out the door.

  Frustration bubbles inside me, but I push it down, ignore it, and pick up another board.

  Hours later, the boys have long ago finished their nail job, as well as several other things I’d come up with to keep them busy. They're getting bored, and cold.

  This isn’t going to work. Fuck me.

  I can’t have them out here all day, every day. Michigan in late winter is just too damn cold, too mind-numbing. They're good kids, but five year olds have limits. I can’t afford for them to get sick, either, and being out in the cold for so long...

  Shit. But I need this job.

  They need me to have this job.

  There’s a Podunk town not far away, Split Haven or something. The idea of finding someone to watch them crosses my mind. I instantly shove the thought aside. I can’t have them that far away, nor can I trust anyone. Not when it comes to my kids.

  I finish pounding two boards together, and then walk over to the duffel bag I’d brought with us. Pulling out the tablet, I ask, “How about a game of checkers? You've earned it.”

  The boys readily agree, perking up as I lead them to the hay bales piled along the end wall. “Climb up,” I say, patting the top of the lowest stack. Mrs. Potter was dead-set against any type of electronic toys, saying the screens are bad for children’s eyes and minds.

  Totally overblown. It’s only checkers.

  The boys settle on the hay and I pull their stocking-caps down over their ears after setting the tablet between them. I’d let them pick out the hats while buying the necessities of being on the run. Adam chose a black Batman hat and Chase a green Hulk one. Mrs. Potter was also against watching TV, but there are some shows every boy needs in his life. Every kid needs a hero or two.

  I carry the ladder to that end of the barn and secure it so I can climb up to mark where I’ll need to connect the wall studs.

  That’s what I’m doing, nailing in a stud, when the door opens again. This time I’m expecting pink.

  The boys are excited to see her, but don’t display the same enthusiasm as earlier. They’re tired. I already knew that, but this confirms it.

  She’s carrying a basket and uses one foot to shut the door behind her. “Who’s ready for lunch?”

  My stomach does a bear impression, but I don’t reply. The shouts from the boys are the answer she's looking for. Her smile says it all.

  “Hope you like chili,” she says. “Marcy made a big pot, and it’s so delicious.”

  “We do!” The boys jump down and run to where she’s unloading the basket on the boards I’d left stretched between two saw horses.

  I climb down and follow.

  She sets out three bowls with lids and several sandwiches wrapped in plastic, as well as a thermos that I hope is full of hot coffee, plus small cartons of milk.

  “I also have these.” She holds up two brown paper bags with Adam and Chase’s names written on them, along with smiley faces. “But you have to eat your lunch first.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” I say.

  She glances my way, a brief, sideways peek out of the corner of her eyes that sends a trickle of electricity zipping through me.

  “I have one for you, too,” she says, lifting another brown bag out of the basket with Daddy written on it.

  It's crazy, but for some reason, my cheeks heat up. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” She helps Adam get situated with his lunch while I help Chase.

  Even something as simple as this, her bringing us food, affects me like it shouldn't. Without attempting to in any way, she has my blood heating up and shooting to specific areas.

  It’s annoying how frustratingly hard she makes me in no time flat. She’s the exact opposite of every woman I’ve ever known. Of all those I left behind. The high-maintenance broads and the sleazy ones with bad habits like Cornelia. They were fuck and dumps and I was too damn busy for anything different. Cupcake doesn’t know that, of course, but I do. I know better, too. No woman will ever come between me and my sons. Cornelia had run that road right to the end, and got what she deserved.

  I just wish it hadn't cost us so much.

  Cupcake circles around the barn while the boys and I eat, looking at the work I’ve completed. I try to act like I don’t care what she thinks, but I do. Shouldn’t. But do.

  “Why are you putting a wall up here?” she asks, leaning against the ladder.

  “For the office.”

  She shakes her head and points to the area behind me. “The office goes down there.”

  “Makes more sense to be on that end. Near the well that you already keep heated.” Meeting her gaze, I ask, “You want water in the office, right? The sink?”

  “Yes.”

  I gesture to the ceiling. “Plumbing water the length of the barn leaves you open to frozen pipes if you have any heating issues.”

  “The office over here won’t work. I don’t want the guests to have to walk the length of the barn to check-in.”

  I walk over and plant a hand against the outside wall. “I’m going to put the entrance right here. You can have a nice sized parking lot outside this wall, too.”

  She nibbles on her bottom lip for a moment before saying, “These are the changes you talked to Gramps about?”

  “Yes, and foregoing the bathroom entirely.”

  “We can’t lose the bathroom. People will need it, especially those not renting rooms at the lodge.”

  “Then rent some porta-potties.” I shrug. “You’ll never recoup the cost of putting in a septic system, or the issues that come with it. Winter can be hard on toilets, the lines will freeze up, and that can get costly.”

  I’ve got her thinking. Seriously thinking. Both that I know what I’m talking about, and that I have her best interests in mind. I have more than that in mind, and have to shift my stance to lesson the tension in my groin.

  She walks towards the front of the barn. “What will be over here then, if not the office?”

  “Stables mainly,” I say, and then proceed to tell her how I intend to lay out the tack area near the office, and the few other minor changes I’d suggested to Morris.

  By the time I’m done, she’s nodding, and the smile on her face has me putting both hands in my front pockets in order to stretch my jeans enough to relieve some of the pressure on my swelling cock. Damn it to hell, but she’s getting under my skin. And I can't let her.

  “A part of me doesn’t want to admit it.” Her smile increases as she shrugs. “But some of what you’ve said makes sense.”

  I have to look away, it’s like she’s sucking me into some kind of happy hole. That’s when I notice the boys. Sleepy-eyed, probably from being warmed up by the big bowls of hot chili. They're leaning against each other for support like two kittens ready for a long nap.

  She notices, too. “Looks like your helpers need sleep.”

  “Looks that way,” I admit, having no idea what to do about it. They’ll never be able to sleep through the sound of me pounding in nails.

  “I can take them inside,” she says quietly. “They’ll be more comfortable and you’ll probably get more work done.”

  I appreciate her offer, but shake my head. “No, they’re a handful, can’t be out of sight for even a few minutes, and you have work, too.”

  “Not really. You’re our only guests. The other couple checked out this morning.” Her smile is soft and serene as she looks at the boys. “I’ll keep a close eye on them, I promise.”
<
br />   Damn. I want to say yes, but—

  “Rex. Please.” She shakes her head. “Mr. Osborne, I promise –”

  “You can call me Rex,” I interrupt. I like how it sounded when she said it. Soft. Gentle.

  “I promise they’ll be fine,” she says. “And warm. They can’t stay out in this cold all day.”

  She’s right about that. Silently I battle myself as she reaches into the basket on the floor.

  “Here, I brought these out for you. They’re too big for me.”

  I take the pair of leather work gloves she’s handing me and make my decision. “The boys can be a handful, and grumpy when they’re tired.”

  Once again her smile strikes me hard and fast.

  “Grumpy is something I’ve handled my entire life.” She starts loading the basket. “Don’t worry. They’ll be fine.”

  I’ll worry all right, but I’ll also get more work done. The gloves will help, too. The ones I’d bought myself weren’t made for winter labor. “Thanks, and thanks for the gloves.” I tell the boys to behave one more time, and that I’ll be in the barn if they need me, and watch them leave.

  With no disruptions outside my own thoughts, which sometimes make me work harder and faster, I make progress. Not as much as I would've done with power-tools, but still a sense of satisfaction fills me as I clean up the wood scraps and get things laid out for tomorrow morning. I’m stiff, overworking muscles that I hadn’t in some time, but overall feel great as I grab my thermos and shut off the lights.

  It was cold in the barn, but it's freezing out here in the dark. I hurry along the shoveled walkway towards the lodge. A car in the parking lot catches my eye. A big sedan.

  Fuck. I hadn’t heard anyone pull in, too engrossed in my work. That shouldn't have happened.

  I take the steps two at a time, barging into the lodge. The dead silence that greets me sends my intuition into overdrive. There’s no one at the desk, in the office, or the front room. I race up the steps and down the hall. Our room is empty. The beds are made.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck! I let my guard down for a couple of hours and this happens. Same shit that happened in Chicago.

  Two empty beds. The boys gone. There’s no note, not like then, stating Mommy took my boys for the night. Nelia had been no fucking mommy to them in this lifetime. They’d only seen her half a dozen times.