by Snow, Nicole
I could tell, though. And that disappointment makes my stomach churn as I walk downstairs.
He’d blamed it on his son and daughter-in-law, of course, and that’s partly what convinced me to go along with this madness.
A shiver rips up my spine. Fuck.
Tightening my hold on the banister, I take the steps carefully, on my merry way to meet the woman I’m married to.
A proxy marriage. The kind permitted in Montana.
Since I’m still legally a resident, it’s fully legit, even though she doesn’t know a fucking thing about it. And can’t just yet.
Not till I get her signatures nice and neat on the papers and get them over to Sheridan. He’s a by-the-book lawyer and went along with everything Jonah requested, except for this.
The damn signature.
He doesn’t even want to know how I’ll get the paper signed. That was the only time he put his foot down and stuck to it.
It hadn’t fazed Jonah one bit. He was confident I’d be willing and able.
Confident I’d handle it all.
Confident I’d sort Bella’s shit, whether she wanted it or not.
I take a deep breath before stepping off the bottom stair.
Sort doesn’t seem like the right word for this.
Married? Fuck. Not something I ever saw myself getting into. Not like this.
The tension in my Army days before you just knew an ambush was coming has nothing on this.
But that’s why Jonah swore I was the perfect man for the job. My sixth sense always shows me how to complete a mission.
I bite back the grin. He probably had told the girl we were old Army pals just to mess with me.
She’s in the kitchen now. Sitting at the table. Pouting. Or pissed.
I can’t tell. Don’t know her well enough. Don’t want to either but, unfortunately, there’s no choice in that.
She’s prettier than her pictures. The house is damn near full of them. Same long brown hair, big green eyes, a face and body that could be in pin-ups. Trim in all the right places, and just the right fullness where it counts.
An hourglass with a natural talent for hounding my dick – which won’t make this any easier.
Lifting her head, she watches me emerge into the room. Her lips quiver, a slight smile forming.
“I’m sorry for earlier,” she says quietly. “What happened upstairs...I didn’t expect anyone to be here in the house. You startled me.”
I wave a hand. “Forget it. You’re grieving, and I’m sure the last thing you expected here was my muddy ass upstairs.”
She stares at me. Blinks.
Shit. This is gonna be harder than I thought.
I clear my throat. “Just wanted to say, Jonah Reed was one hell of a man. Best boss I’ll ever have, hands down.”
Her smile returns as she leans back in her chair. “Yeah, he sure was. He told me about you a few times, but I guess I always assumed you were—” She tries not to, but her gaze goes from my boots to my still wet hair. “Older.”
I lift a brow. “An old Army buddy?”
“Yep.” She shakes her head. “That’s what he led me to believe. That you knew each other from the military.”
A grin spreads across my lips. No one was ever safe from that old man.
“Not a total lie. I was in the Army a few years before I came to work for your grandfather, but he had a fifty-year head start.” I go to the fridge and pull the door open. “You want a water?”
“Yes, please.”
“I’d offer you a beer, but...” I leave that for her to decide.
“Water will be fine.”
I pull out two bottles and walk to the table. I hand one to her while sitting down, then open mine. After taking a long drink, I say, “He didn’t want a big service.”
“Oh, I know.” She twists the cap off her bottle but doesn’t take a drink, her eyes lost somewhere in the distance. “You were with him when he died.”
It’s not a question. She already knows. Must’ve heard it from Sheridan or somebody.
“Yeah,” I tell her. Amazing how a single word can lead a hundred different places.
She closes her eyes for a moment, then opens them and licks her lips.
“Where...” She takes a deep breath. “Where exactly did...” She lets out the air. “He die?”
Fuck. I need a quick breath, too.
The memories are still raw. The events of that day dredged up more crap I thought I’d come to terms with, too, but clearly hadn’t because they boiled right to the surface again.
“He died at the hospital, technically. The heart attack hit while we were in the truck,” I say. “His GMC. I was driving. We were almost in town.”
Her eyes stay glued to me, two green gems stuck on every word.
“'Ah, hell!' That’s all he said before...fuck.” I plant my hands on my thighs, wishing I didn’t have to relive his last moments, but the girl deserves to know. “I did what I could. Pulled over, laid him out, felt for a pulse. He had a slight one, so I called 9-1-1 and floored it to the hospital. The doctor met us in the parking lot, but it was too late.” I shake my head. “Jonah had a second attack while he was unconscious. It took him then and there; he never even made it through the doors.”
Half of me wants to tell her about the last real conversation Jonah and I had before we’d left for town.
It’d been about her, after all, and the will.
Till that day, I’d never much believed in stories about people knowing it was their day to die. Now, I wonder...
Jonah made me promise again I’d fulfill every single part. Complete the mission.
I’d agreed, having gone through the same conversation before several times. That day, that morning, he’d been more adamant than ever. Almost like he could see us sitting here, having the most awkward conversation in the world, me unsure where the hell to go with any of this.
“What were you going to town for?” she asks quietly.
Aw, shit. I was hoping she wouldn’t ask that, but figured she would.
I need a moment to figure out what to say. In the end, I go with the truth. Jonah never said I couldn’t tell her after the fact. Just kept it a big secret before.
“A doctor’s appointment, ironically.” So ironic it’s sick.
Shock, the concerned kind, fills her face. “For what?”
“Well, the heart trouble that took him...it wasn’t the first time his ticker acted up. He’d had a slight heart attack a few months ago.”
She’s clearly taken aback. “What? Why didn’t he tell me? I even talked to him the day before...” She grabs a napkin from the holder in the center of the table and wipes her eyes. “The day before...”
“He didn’t want you to know, darlin’. Didn’t want anyone knowing. Dr. Ryan recommended surgery, but Jonah didn’t want to hear it, and to be honest, Ryan only seemed halfway sure his heart was strong enough to take it.”
“But..but why didn’t he tell me?” she repeats while wiping at her eyes again. “Why? I would’ve come home, you know. I’d have taken time off, been here, whatever he needed.”
I shake my head. “He didn’t want you here when it happened. Didn’t want you to come home just to watch him die. He was a real proud man.”
Right or wrong, I know why Jonah did it.
I’d lived that hell once. Went home just to watch someone wither away, slowly reduced to a shadow of their former selves.
She presses four fingers against her lips while shaking her head, a harsh sigh slipping out of her mouth. “Jesus. I want to say you’re lying, but I can’t. Because that’s exactly what Gramps would do.”
I’m glad she sees it.
The screaming fit upstairs had me considering her stability. Now I’m sure it was just shock. I’d been mighty shocked myself and hadn’t expected to see her standing there.
I give her another moment before she looks at me again, sniffing back her pain.
“How long have you been living
here at the house?” She shrugs. “I thought you were in the cottage.”
“I was living in the shack, yeah. I moved in here after Jonah’s first attack. He didn’t want to be alone.” I didn’t want him to be either. Been there. Done that. It doesn’t work out well.
But his heart was only half of it. He wanted to keep me close, an extra set of eyes before the wolves closed in...
“I just wish he’d have told me.” She sniffles and wipes her nose with the napkin. “I would’ve come home. No hesitation.”
“I’m sure you would, and he didn’t want that.” We’d already covered that point, yet I add, “You were busy with your business. Last thing Jonah ever wanted to do was interrupt your life.”
“Pshh, like there was anything to interrupt.” She rests the back of her head on the top of the kitchen chair and stares up at the ceiling for a moment. “I’m sure he told you about that.”
I take another swig of water. “Told me what?”
She finger-combs her long hair away from her face with one hand. “That I failed. Horribly. Three times in a row.”
Right. There was very little Jonah hadn’t told me.
“Real estate, wasn’t it?” I ask, assessing her.
“Yeah, well...sort of. It’s called flipping. Houses and other properties. You know, buy low, fix it up, sell high. I’d been through the rental game once and almost wound up pulling my hair out with tenants...so I thought I’d try nice, passive house flipping in what’s supposed to be a red-hot market.”
I nod, knowing all about her myriad landlord disasters and flip-flops, how none of them ever went as planned. I want to hear it from her, though. Find out if she’s as honest as Jonah claimed.
If she’s not, then this entire plan could be in jeopardy.
“Sounds like you did your homework,” I tell her. “I always heard California real estate was a slam dunk if all the stars aligned.”
“Yeah, well, they kinda blew apart for me. Ugly constellations.” She leans forward and plops both elbows on the table.
I glance at the doorway, wondering when her parents will arrive. Hopefully there’s time.
I want to hear her side of things, and I need to get her signature before there’s a crowd.
“So what happened?”
“Well, the first house I bought was older and so full of asbestos that by the time I paid to have it all removed – a huge job that took more time and money than all the estimates – I didn’t have any money left to put into remodeling the place. I had to sell it as is and barely broke even.”
“Goddamn. Wasn’t that disclosed in the sale?” I raise an eyebrow. Jonah already told me his version, and I’m curious how close hers will be to his. “The asbestos?”
“Yeah, but...I guess I just screwed up. Severely underestimated removal costs.”
“Why?” I’ve never been good at small talk, but this is easy to move it along.
Just keep on going. Get her comfortable. Then, the papers.
She frowns. “Why?”
“Yeah. Didn’t you call around? Get estimates?”
Her chin comes up sharply.
“Um, yeah. I’m not a total moron, even if I must look like –” She cuts off mid-sentence, rolling her shoulders. “Forget it.”
I shrug. “So it was more than they quoted you?” I push for more info. Specifics. Just to confirm a few things. “That should’ve been their problem, not yours.”
Her shoulders slump. “Yeah, well, it should’ve been, but the owner of the company is a good friend of my father’s and...” She shakes her head. “Enough said.”
I nod. That’s exactly what Jonah said, that the company was owned by one of Gary’s friends.
Jonah had plenty more to say about it, too, and about her next flip. “What about the other properties? You had more than one, didn’t you?”
She props her chin in her palm and her eyes go glassy. “No asbestos there. Termites! Had to replace foundation and support walls, which wound up costing more than I’d budgeted again...”
“And your old man had another friend he brought in, didn’t he?”
She frowns and then huffs out a breath. “I needed the help. They gave me the best price they could.”
Chalk two up for Jonah. And her. She’s been honest so far. “How ’bout number three?”
A sentimental grin forms. “That was a cute little bungalow on the beach. I really thought I’d struck gold. School was finished, so I put all my time and effort into that one. Rather than a construction company, I hired a couple of well-qualified people, and even helped with all of the demolition marking myself. It was fun for a while. I loved remodeling.”
“What happened?” According to Jonah, she wasn’t done getting screwed by her folks.
She levels a tense stare at me, and then, letting out a sigh, looks away. “My mother. That’s what happened.”
Bingo.
Jonah warned me what I’d be up against with her parents, especially her hellfire mama. Partly the reason he made me promise to help her. “What’d she do?”
“She sold it to a friend of hers before I even got a chance to lay the floors. Cash deal. A big favor she thought I totally wouldn’t mind.”
That seals it then. My neutral smile thins.
Her ma must be just as conniving as Jonah claimed, even when it came to her own daughter.
I’d planned on being cautious when it came to her parents. Now, I’m thinking facing them head-on might work better.
“I’m such an idiot,” she whispers harshly, more to herself and the world than me.
“Hey, that’s business. A whole lot of harsh damn lessons on the road to riches. Jonah would be the first to agree.”
I’m still smiling, offering her sympathy, when she looks up and the sadness on her face eases.
“Doesn’t sound like you failed at real estate, darlin’. More like the only mistake you made was letting your folks get a hand or two in your business.” I hope she already sees this. It’ll make the next part easier.
A smirk pulls on her lips. “That’s what Gramps said, too. But I’d borrowed the money to buy the first property from them, so I didn’t really have a choice.”
Technically, she had, but the money came from Jonah. He’d sent it her way through them.
Hardly my business, of course, except where the past bleeds into Jonah’s very present wishes.
I take another pull of water. Setting the bottle back on the table, I ask, “You going to buy another one?”
“No. The bungalow sold last week, and I told them to wire the money to my parents. For the exact amount I’d borrowed.” She shrugs. “Maybe some day I’ll try it again, I have a degree in design.” Looking around the kitchen, she says, “Speaking of real estate...Gramps told me he’d fixed up the place, but I didn’t expect all this. This kitchen...what gives? The cupboards, the flooring, the counters, the appliances...”
“Don’t forget the light fixtures,” I add.
She nods and grins. “Who’d he hire?”
I grin. “You’re looking at him.”
Her eyes grow wide. “What? Really?”
I nod. This could be the connection I need so she trusts me, so I stand up, taking a quick look at my handiwork.
“I did the bathrooms, too.” Jonah wanted all that done especially for her.
For the day when she returned. I’d had my doubts she ever would, but there’s no denying the evidence in front of me.
Jonah Reed never half-assed anything. He didn’t tolerate anything less than excellence. His faith in his little girl kept him going, and that’s what brought her back here. Now, I keep my end of the bargain.
I can’t fail Jonah the way I did Angie. The way I did Sherry and Terry.
They’d fucking counted on me. Never again.
Jonah Reed practically became the family I no longer had.
“Is that why Gramps hired you? Contractor skills?”
I shrug. “He hired me for whatever needed to be
done. Jack of many trades, darlin’, and several more I’ve learned on the fly.”
There was more to it than that. My real skill set that interested Jonah the most was closer to security guard, and that’s the role I’ll take on with her, but she doesn’t need to know it right now.
Not even Jonah knew what I’d discovered was going on behind the scenes with North Earhart Oil.
“Are your parents coming out here to the ranch?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “Not today, I’m sure.”
I stand, walking over to the counter, to the stack of papers ready and waiting.
“Did you sign all the papers Sheridan had for you?” I ask before picking up my stack. The marriage stuff is buried deep in the mundane.
“Yes.” She sees what I’m holding. “He said there’d be more here.”
Right on cue, Sheridan.
“Ready and waiting,” I tell her with a friendly grin. “Quite a stack. Proxy papers for the utility companies to transfer, mostly. You know, electricity, phone, natural gas, all the crap that needs to be changed from Jonah’s name to yours.”
She lets out a heavy sigh and looks down at the table.
I pick up the stack and a pen. Wanting it to sound like nothing more than the world’s most tedious bull, I ask, “Feel like signing now? Should only take ten or twenty minutes.”
“Might as well.” She shrugs. “Sheridan said you’d be helping me with this entire process. Thanks for taking care of all that. I never thought of the utilities, but yeah, let’s just get it done.”
I carry them over, set them down in front of her, and hand her a pen.
A twinge of guilt strikes.
No question, this is pretty fucked up.
I’ve never purposefully duped someone like this before, and my conscience has been clashing with it since I’d agreed to the marriage piece.
But it’s for her safety, isn’t it?
That’s the justification, all right. Jonah’s elaborate plan involves more than money and some land.
It could mean lives, including the one belonging to the pretty young thing in front of me.
There are no good words for that.
None except, I do.
I will.