Black Tie Optional (Wild Wedding Series Book 1)

by Ann Marie Walker

  “Anyone for some hot bread?” Susan asked, the high-pitched chirp of her voice revealing her unease. She set the basket on the table with a thud and fixed her husband with a hard stare.

  Cole tried his best to remain impassive, answering their questions one at a time. “I’d love one, thank you. And yes, it’s an admirable organization, one the Grant Foundation has supported for quite some time.” Healthcare for children was something Cole’s mother had made a priority from the moment he was born. From the memos she’d written during the early days of the Foundation, Evaline Grant was well aware of how fortunate she was to be able to provide her child with top-rated medical care and she was equally aware of the plight of those who couldn’t. Whether in the U.S. or abroad, she was committed to the efforts to rectify that disparity.

  “Writing a check is one thing,” Brian said. “Rolling up your sleeves and getting your hands dirty is another.”

  Cole’s phone rang, cutting through the tension filled room. It was the first call he’d had all night. That in itself would have been strange enough, but as he thought about it Cole realized he hadn’t had so much as a single text or email come through for hours. When he glanced at the screen, he saw his lawyer’s name, and at least fourteen missed calls and voicemails. The chiming and dinging was almost nonstop.

  “What the . . .”

  “We have terrible reception out here,” Susan offered. “You must have just picked up a signal.”

  “Excuse me,” Cole said, standing and moving toward the back door. “I need to take this.”

  “Grant,” he said into the phone.

  “Finally.” Bill Barkley exhaled heavily into the phone. “Been trying to reach you all evening.” Regardless of circumstance, Cole would have considered an after-hours call from his lawyer to be a case of out of the frying pan, into the fire. But in this instance, he wasn’t so sure. Something told him there was a lot more to that conversation than the casual mention of a run-in with a neighbor and if the clawing in his gut was any indication, it wasn’t a story he wanted to hear.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. What the hell was wrong with him? He shouldn’t give a rat’s ass about Olivia’s past. It didn’t matter who Derek Do-Gooder was to her then or now. The only thing that mattered was that she was faithful to him during the term of their marriage, and even that was only for the sake of prying eyes.

  “Are you still there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Thought I’d lost you. Where the hell are you anyway? Sounds like you’re in some Third World country.”

  Cole gazed out across miles and miles of open land. It was hardly a Third World country, but to him it was about as foreign. “I’m downstate for a few days. What’s up?”

  “Your grandmother filed a motion to compel this afternoon.”

  “For what?”

  “She wanted proof that you’re actually married,” Bill said. His fatigue was obvious even over the phone.

  “I hope you put her in her place.”

  “Absolutely. We presented a copy of your marriage license and Judge Peterson told her in no uncertain terms that the case was over as far as the courts were concerned.”

  “Good. So it’s settled.”

  “Legally yes, but—”

  “But what?” Cole asked, although he had a bad feeling he already knew the answer.

  “But your grandmother isn’t letting this go. She was asking me where you were this weekend. Apparently, she called your office to try to set up some sort of family dinner. My guess is she’s hoping to stir things up. If she can trip Olivia up somehow, get her to contradict something you’ve said or even break her down until she admits it was all a ruse . . .”

  “Then she would have quite a story to leak to the press.”

  “Not to mention the stockholders. The courts won’t see any misdoing, but investors might not feel the same.”

  “Fuck.” Cole peered through the window into the house. Olivia was clearing the plates off the table while in the distance her parents were huddled in the hallway in what looked to be a rather quiet yet animated conversation. “It’ll be fine,” he said.

  His gaze shifted to his wife, and every muscle in his body tightened. He knew the reaction well. It was an instinct to protect, although up until now, something he’d never felt for anyone but Rebecca. “Olivia can hold her own, and we’ll take the proper steps to ensure she’s ready for whatever my grandmother throws at her.”

  “If you’re sure.”

  “Trust me, Bill. She’ll be ready.” The conviction in Cole’s voice left no room for doubt. If only he felt as confident about the situation at hand. He ended the conversation and took a deep breath. He needed to man the fuck up. Whatever waited for him inside couldn’t be worse than what awaited Olivia when they returned to Chicago. An awkward family dinner with her parents was nothing compared to the inquisition that awaited her with his grandmother.

  He fired off a quick text checking on Rebecca, and once he confirmed all was well with her, made his way back into the kitchen. To his surprise, the mood was decidedly lighter, leaving Cole to wonder exactly what Susan had whispered to Brian in that hallway. Whatever she’d said, it worked because the rest of the night passed without incident. In fact, Cole would have gone so far as to say it was enjoyable. Once they’d retired to the living room, everyone seemed to relax. The comfortable furniture didn’t hurt—neither did the jug of homemade wine Susan brought out to toast their union—but whatever the reason, the next few hours were filled with laughter and music and pleasant conversation. Everything was going much better than Cole could have ever expected . . . until the awkward moment when it was time for bed.

  “Try to sell it,” Olivia whispered when they reached the foot of the stairs.

  Cole wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her body flush against his. “Thank you so much,” he told her parents. “It really was a lovely evening.”

  “You’re more than welcome.” Susan fixed them both with a knowing smile. “Sleep well.”

  He placed his palm against the small of her back as he guided her up the stairs. Her shirt rode up ever so slightly and the brief contact with her bare skin had him stumbling on the top tread.

  “Careful,” she said, oblivious to the effect she’d had on him. “The stairs are a little warped.” They stood staring at each other for a few moments before Olivia nodded to a door in the distance. “Bathroom’s at the end of the hall. Go ahead. I’ll use the one in my parent’s room.”

  Cole grabbed his toiletries bag and headed off to the bathroom. When he was finished, he found Olivia in her room, already changed for bed. Her hair was pulled back in a sloppy ponytail and while she wasn’t naked, the pair of boy short panties and the faded Lumineers T-shirt she wore were even more of a turn-on, something Cole hadn’t thought possible. But as he drank in every detail, from the lace trim of her fluorescent green panties to the way her nipples strained against the cotton fabric of her well-worn tee, Cole was quite certain she’d never looked sexier.

  His mouth grew dry, and a fine sweat misted his body. This was going to be the longest fucking night. He cleared his throat. “Christ, it’s hot in here.” And not just figuratively. The upstairs of her parent’s house was downright sweltering.

  “Yeah, Indian Summer has steamed things up a bit. Takes a while for the upstairs to cool back down.”

  “Can you crank the AC?”

  “Sorry, don’t have air conditioning.”

  Cole frowned. “Let me guess, bad for the environment?”

  Olivia smiled as she moved nearly one hundred and one stuffed Dalmatians—not to mention just about every other animal imaginable—from the bed to the window seat. “You’re catching on.”

  “Well, not having one is bad for my sleep patterns.”

  Olivia laughed as she slid into bed. “Believe it or not, your sleeping comfort has little to no impact on global warming.”

  “What do you say we skip the whole Al Gore
routine and just get some sleep?” Cole moved to the other side of the bed. The room, not to mention the bed, seemed to have grown smaller since he’d last seen it.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Olivia asked as he lifted the sheet.

  “Going to bed.”

  “Oh, no, no, no. You’re over there.” She nodded to where a pillow and a folded comforter had been placed on the floor.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me?”

  Olivia ignored his question. Instead she just settled back against the pile of pillows.

  A huff of air left Cole’s lungs. “Fine.” He unfolded the blanket and spread it out across the floor. At least there was wall-to-wall carpet, although he suspected he’d still need a solid week with his chiropractor to recover from this makeshift camp out. But the rising temperature and the prospect of a sore back aside, Cole realized that what he was really feeling at the moment was a stab of disappointment. What the hell? Had a part of him actually been looking forward to sharing a bed with her? The idea was so absurd he nearly laughed out loud. Cole went to great lengths to avoid spending the entire night with a woman, and that was when sex was involved. But to skip the orgasm and go straight to the pillow talk? No fucking way. Maybe all the fresh country air was starting to affect his brain.

  Once he was finally settled, Cole lay staring at the ceiling, focusing on the steady hum of the ceiling fan, the tiny crack that stretched across the plaster, or the blue and white striped valances that topped each of the windows. Anything but the sound of the soft breaths coming from the woman lying on the mattress above him. All at once, he imagined the gentle rise and fall of her breasts as she drew each breath, how her nipples would pebble if his fingertips brushed her sensitive skin, or how she would cry out in a silent gasp if he tugged the taut tip between his teeth.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  Cole turned onto his side and the map caught his eye. States and capitals. That would keep him occupied. He started with the first one that came to mind but then Olivia shifted and let out a small sigh, which had him starting over, this time in alphabetical order.

  Alabama. Montgomery. Alaska. Juneau. Arizona. Phoenix. He kept going, reciting states and capitals in his head. Olivia was silent above him, and by the time he’d reached Wyoming, he assumed she’d drifted off to sleep. But then she surprised him, not only by speaking, but with what she asked.

  “You hate it here, don’t you?”

  Cole considered his answer for a moment before he spoke. “Actually, no, I don’t.” He’d expected to be miserable, but other than the brief kitchen table interrogation, Cole had actually enjoyed his evening. “I like your parents. Don’t get me wrong, your mother is as whacky as you are. But she means well. And your dad seems like a stand-up guy.” He chuckled to himself. “Although I don’t think he cares for me too much.”

  Usually Cole had no problem winning people over. Of course, he knew that was largely due to his family’s money and power. In a world where “you’re either with me or against me” most wisely chose to ally themselves with the Grant name. But Brian Ramsey was different. In his world, Cole’s money and influence were irrelevant. To him, he was nothing more than another city boy from the concrete jungle. They had little in common, yet he’d invited him into his home and, despite the nature of their introduction, had made him feel welcome.

  “Well, the whole running off with his daughter thing aside, I did see him smirk at your shoes.”

  “Imagine if I hadn’t changed clothes?”

  Olivia giggled. “The words ‘pansy ass’ come to mind.”

  “Nice.” He was smiling, although he knew she couldn’t see it.

  “His words, not mine.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ve thought it a time or two.”

  “Maybe.” She gave another small laugh but after a few minutes added, “He likes you. They both do.” Her voice was so quiet, Cole barely made out the words. A strange sensation formed in the pit of his gut just before it turned into a tight knot. Didn’t matter if Olivia’s family liked him or not, because whatever affection they might have for him would be short-lived. Either they’d learn the truth tomorrow, that the marriage was nothing more than a business transaction, or in three months’ time they’d think he was the cad who’d married their daughter only to break her heart. Despite the light the latter would eventually cast him in, it would mean postponing the inevitable and much to his surprise, Cole found himself wanting to buy that time.

  Before coming there, Cole had thought he’d be fine sitting across from her parents at the kitchen table, explaining how he’d negotiated a business deal to marry their only child. He’d had far more difficult conversations in the context of his corporate dealings. Hell, just last week he’d had to dismantle a company he’d acquired through what some might call a hostile takeover. But now that he’d met Brian and Susan, and experienced the affection they’d shown to a total stranger who was unexpectedly a member of their family, Cole wasn’t so sure it was a conversation he wanted to have.

  “Olivia?” he whispered.

  “Hmmm?” It sounded like she was half asleep.

  Cole swallowed hard. “How would you feel about going with option two?”

  The bed creaked above him as Olivia scooted to the edge of the mattress. She was wide awake as she leaned over the side. “You don’t want to tell them about our deal?”

  “No.”

  “You realize they are going to think you’re an even bigger jerk that way?”

  “Yeah, I know,” he said. But that day was three months away. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it. For now, at least, Olivia was his wife, and he was a member of her crazy little family. And fake marriage or not, a tiny part of him wanted to enjoy it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cole had never spent a night on a farm. And even though Olivia’s parents weren’t actually farmers, they did still own quite a menagerie of animals, one of which it turned out, was a rooster.

  So much for sleeping in.

  Olivia was already gone when he woke, her bed remade with all the toss pillows and stuffed animals back in place. Cole showered and dressed, then made his way down to the kitchen where he found his wife engrossed in a conversation with her mother. The two women stopped talking as soon as he walked into the room, and while he was used to that reaction in the boardroom, in this context it was rather unnerving. Because a part of him couldn’t help but wonder if they’d been discussing their latest plot to rid the world of pollution or if they’d merely been discussing how to rid Olivia of him.

  Get a grip, Grant. Maybe all the fresh air and “normalcy” was a bad idea after all. It seemed to be having a strange effect on him. How else could he explain the fact that he gave a flying fuck about anything but the bottom line?

  “Morning, Cole,” Susan said. Her smile was just as warm and genuine as the night before, leading him to believe they weren’t conspiring to vote him off the island, or in their case, the farm. “I made some muffins.” She pulled back a red and white checkered cloth that had been laying atop a giant heap of baked goods. “Carrot, blueberry, banana. Wasn’t sure which you’d like, so I made a few.”

  “She tends to go a bit overboard,” Olivia said matter-of-factly.

  “Thank you,” Cole said. “That was very kind of you.”

  “Coffee?” she asked, already getting up from the table to grab the pot. “Did you sleep okay?” She set a mug in front of him and began to fill it. “There’s sugar on the table, but should I leave room for cream?”

  Once again Cole noted his new mother-in-law’s propensity to ask questions in rapid suction without allowing time for any answers. “Black is great.” He lifted the cup to his lips. “And I slept fine, thanks.” Surprisingly, he had. Despite being on the floor.

  “That’s Livvy’s bed from high school. Hope it wasn’t too soft.”

  Cole’s gaze met Olivia’s over the rim of his coffee mug. He couldn’t say for sure, but he thought he detected a hint of a smi
le. “Hard as a rock,” he said. His description could have been referring to the floor or his cock, and judging by the look on Olivia’s face, the double entendre wasn’t lost on her.

  “I was going to make you a big country breakfast, but I wasn’t sure if you were a late riser.”

  Cole reached for one of the carrot muffins and began peeling back the paper wrapper. “Not with a feathered alarm clock,” he said with a small chuckle.

  Olivia laughed. “That would be Rex.”

  Cole paused with a chunk of muffin halfway to his mouth. “Rex the Rooster?”

  A childlike grin spread across Olivia’s face, and she nodded.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Susan said. “We found Rex a few years back on the side of the road and he’s been cock-a-doodle-doing ever since. Guess I’m so used to him, I forget that not everyone wants to wake at the crack of dawn.”

  “It’s not a problem. We’re only here for a few days, best not to waste them sleeping.”

  “Cole’s usually up early working out anyways,” Olivia said. So she had noticed his schedule, which meant the fact that they didn’t cross paths much at home was likely by design. Interesting.

  “We don’t have a gym or anything, but Brian has a mountain bike. You’re welcome to take it out. There are some nice trails down on the other side of the pond.”

  “That’s very kind. I might take you up on that tomorrow morning.”

  There was a knock on the back door that had their three heads turning as one.

  “Oh lord,” Susan said. “That didn’t take long at all.”

  Cole shot Olivia a questioning look as her mother made her way to the door. “Our neighbor, Mrs. Jackson,” she whispered. “Brace yourself.”

  “Good morning, Susan. I was just heading into town and thought I’d drop off some of this jam I made yesterday.” She produced a mason jar from her straw bag. “You know me, once I get to cooking—” Her gaze fell to the two of them sitting at the table and although her face registered no reaction at all, her words indicated she was surprised to find someone else in the room. “Oh, hello, Olivia, I didn’t know you were in town.”