The ring has a silver band, inlaid with diamonds and what looks like rubies and emeralds.
"I didn't know that was in here," she says. "I always wished that someone would propose to me, you know, romantically."
"You're a married woman," I tell her.
"Oh. Yeah. I mean, a fake marriage isn't really the same."
She puts the ring back in one of the envelopes. But when she isn't looking, I reach inside it, snag the ring, and pocket it.
Later, we meet up with Joe again, and hand over all the relevant documents we found. He tells us he should have enough on the mayor to get him thrown out of office. All he wants in return for his services is a lifetime supply of free rainbow bagels. Tess laughs. "It's a deal," she says.
23
Tess
It's the afternoon before a town hall meeting that Joe set up. There's going to be another potluck, and then after the potluck, a referendum on whether Mayor Wilkinson stays in office. If he somehow wins the vote and manages to stay in office, then Joe is going to bring an open-and-shut case against him in court. If he loses, then his career is over forever and it doesn't matter anyway. But from the gossip floating around town, I expect it to be a landslide against him.
We all sit on a red-and-white checkered blanket in the park. Me, Jason, and Meg. Hunter's doing handstands next to us, his shirt off, and I can't stop ogling him. Neither can Meg, but I don't mind.
Everyone is anxious, and Jason won't stop moping about Crystal. I can tell he really likes her, and he's fretting about it big time.
"I texted her last night and asked if everything was okay. She still hasn't responded." He flips through the messages on his phone, checking and re-checking for a message.
Hunter comes down from a handstand, his muscular body all lights and shadows in the afternoon sunlight. He shakes his head. "You sent that to her in a text message?"
I pipe up to defend Jason. "That's pretty normal these days."
"It makes you sound like a fucking pussy."
"It would probably be better to talk in person," I concede.
"What if it's awkward?" says Jason.
"Just sit down with her and tell her how you honestly feel," I say. "Honesty is the best policy."
Hunter takes a seat on the picnic blanket. He stomach is so flat and cut, even when he's sitting down. He rolls his eyes. "Don't fucking do that."
"Then what should I do?"
"Next time you see her, pin her against the wall and kiss her on the lips. Don't ask for permission either. Just do it."
"Well that's just ridiculous," I say, "That's—"
Hunter interrupts me by sweeping a hand behind my back, crushing his lips against mine, and gently laying me down on my back. The kiss fills me completely, his masculinity flowing through me like a river. When he finally lets me come up for air, I'm breathless. I sit up. Meg and Jason gawk, as do a couple passers-by in the park.
Hunter grins. "See? Never listen to a woman when she tells you what she wants. They don't know half the damn time."
I slap him on the arm. "You're an asshole."
"A charming asshole."
"You guys have it easy," says Jason. "You knew you wanted each other from the beginning. And now you're married."
Hunter and I exchange glances. We chuckle, and Jason just looks confused.
"Just do what I tell you, kid," says Hunter. "It'll work out fine."
Inside the church basement, a low rumble cascades back and forth through the crowd. From the minute I step foot inside, I know it's the end for Mayor Wilkinson. The mood in here is pure discontent. Everyone wants him gone.
The dinner passes by in uncomfortable silence and hushed whispers, and I wish we could just have the vote already and get it over with. Last time, the mayor was up on stage and working the room the whole time, hanging out with his important investor buddies from California. This time, he's nowhere to be seen. The food tastes delicious tonight, but my stomach twists and turns and churns the entire evening, and I barely have an appetite. This always happens to me when I'm nervous. All I can eat is pie.
After we all put down our dessert and finish our sweet teas and coffees, it's finally time for the vote. At last. A city official comes out on stage and gives us instructions. To vote to keep the mayor in office, stand on the left side of the room. To throw the mayor out of office, stand on the right side of the room. A couple of young kids lay out a rope, dividing the room into two halves.
People eye each other, trying to size up who will do what. Hunter and I immediately stand on the right side along with Eddie, Oscar, Jason, Meg, Mr. Roberts from the credit union with his hand sanitizer, cranky old man Marnes from the gas station, and all our other friends. People filter back and forth, and a couple of undecideds hop sides at the last minute.
When people settle in, the vote is clear: Mayor Wilkinson is gone.
"By a decisive majority," says the city official over the room's PA system, "Mr. Wilkinson's mayorship is hereby terminated."
Two or three people start to clap, and soon a thunderous applause breaks out in the room. A few disgruntled supporters of the mayor storm out the back exit, but most of the losing side shakes hands with us and wishes us well with the shop.
"Now," says the official, tucking some papers under his arm and wrangling the microphone cord, "we need a new mayor."
I look around the room. It didn't occur to me that there would need to be a new mayor elected right away. A murmur goes through the crowd. "Watch them elect someone even worse," mutters Oscar.
A voice calls out from the crowd. "Hunter Thorne!"
Next to me, Hunter jams his hands in his pockets and coughs uncomfortably. But cries of "here-here" echo throughout the church basement, which turn into chants of "Hunter! Hunter!"
I bite my lip. I can tell the crowd demands an answer right now. But Hunter and I haven't even finished talking about where we stand. If he agrees to be the town's mayor, then that means he's staying in Maple Ridge for good. It means he's staying with me for good. Right?
People clap him on the back and push him toward the stage. The people's choice is clear.
Hunter finally steps onto the platform, and the crowd breaks into applause. He takes the microphone.
"Thank you everyone," he says. "Thank you."
He grins and then raises the mic to his lips again, and the crowd quiets down.
"I cannot claim to be a perfect man," he says, "but I pledge to put the people of Maple Ridge first. You all deserve a leader who will represent your interests."
More clapping and cheering.
"I am not a perfect man, but I do have a perfect woman," he says, "and her name is Tess Thorne."
I blush hard. I never realized how good Tess Thorne sounds.
"I accept the will of the people. It is my privilege to serve you as the next mayor of Maple Ridge."
I look at the test strip and blink. The little red lines appear. I can't believe my eyes.
I'm pregnant with Hunter Thorne's baby.
I knew something was up with my period. But this fills me with a sense of joy I never knew was possible. I feel a sense of completeness now, that I haven't felt, since, well, ever.
Gripping the test strip in my hand, I turn the bathroom knob. I look at myself in the mirror, and for the first time in a long time, I'm completely happy with what I see.
Then I flip off the lights, leave the bathroom, and smile at Hunter who's sitting on the couch.
"Guess what? You're not going to believe this."
24
Hunter
I flip over the waffle iron and open it. A cloud of smoke billows off the charred, blackened piece of charcoal that was briefly a waffle. I wave it off and cough. "Fucking asshole of a waffle," I say.
Tess shakes her head and playfully shoves me out of the way. "You're hopeless. Let me do it."
Business is back to usual at the shop, and we're working on a new dish after hours: fried chicken and waffles. But the industrial wa
ffle iron we ordered is really fucking touchy with the temperature controls.
Tess couldn't push me around if she tried, but I gingerly step out of the way and play along. It's my baby that she's carrying in her belly, and I'm not taking any chances with her. Not now.
She tries her hand at the waffle iron and produces a crispy, golden, flaky, delicious waffle. Next to the waffle iron, a couple fried chicken strips bubble in a frying pan, and I remove them with a pair of tongs. I place one of the pieces atop Tess's successful waffle, and drizzle it with honey-mustard dressing.
We sit down at one of the tables in the dining area and dig in.
"Mmm," says Tess. She crunches on a bite of fried chicken and waffles, and my stomach growls at the sound of the crunching.
My eyes lock onto her plump, pink lips as she shovels down more of the waffles. I fucking love her lips. On my cheeks, on my lips, on my body, and all over my cock. I can't get enough of them.
I cut off a bite with the side of my fork, and then I realize what this shit needs. Some fucking sweet butter. "Be right back," I say.
I spin over the counter and head to the back freezer to dig around for some butter. I'll need to melt it first, but this is going to be fucking good, and—
Something smashes into the back of my head, and I see stars and blackness.
"Mmph," I groan, and I wake up lying on my back next to the freezer. I put my hand to my head, and when I take it away, it's covered in red.
Fuck. All I can think about is Tess, alone by herself in the dining room. I try to sit up, but I'm dazed, and my muscles don't cooperate.
Just out of my field of vision, I hear more banging and crashing, then a bloodcurdling scream from Tess. I crane my neck as hard as I can, and I spot them. A couple of guys dressed in black, wearing ski masks. They hold baseball bats and they're smashing everything in sight.
My instincts kick into guard dog mode, and through sheer willpower, I pick myself up off the floor. The room spins and I nearly fall to the ground, but I steady myself against the freezer and clench my fists until my vertigo passes.
Tess shrieks again and the crashing continues. I put one foot in front of the other, one step at a time, forcing myself closer to the mayhem. I call on all of my Navy SEAL training to get myself into the fight, the way I've been conditioned to do. This is what I'm made for.
With every step I regain more strength, even as I leave a trail of blood behind me, dripping down from the back of my head. When I get to the dining room, I can't believe my fucking eyes. All the windows are smashed out. The cash register is broken open, on the floor, and bills and coins are scattered all over the floor. The pastry display cases are bashed in. The espresso machine is dented and wrecked.
And now both of the intruders have Tess cornered. They brandish their bats above her head. This is Wilkinson's last act. I just know it is.
As far as I'm concerned, I only have one mission left in life. If I slip into unconsciousness, it won't be until I take these thugs apart piece by piece and make sure my woman and my baby are safe.
I stagger forward, tightening all my muscles, preparing myself to kill.
One of the men feigns toward me. He jerks to the side and swings his bat at my ribs. I reach out and catch it in my palm, which explodes in agony. I feel bones break as the bat hits me. But I ignore the pain. I rip the bat out of his hands, bring it above my head, and send it surging down into his skull.
The collision is brutal and lethal. The man's skull splits open and his body collapses to the ground like a sack of dead meat. I realize the bat is broken in half, just a splintered handle now.
Fucking perfect. That'll work.
The thug standing over Tess turns to face me, and I scan her face and body. I don't see any blood or bruises, thank God. Now I'm going to finish this job.
I draw the splintered bat back like a sword, then plunge the splintered end into the man's stomach. It pierces him fully. He drops his bat, clutching his stomach, blood running out of his mouth. He gasps for air, and I just twist the bat and jam it in until his feet give out from under him and he slides down in a slaughtered heap.
"Tess," I exclaim, and I rush to her side. I wipe my hands on my jeans, and then put my hands on her just as fast as I can. "Are you hurt? Is the baby hurt?"
She replies, her voice shaky. "I'm fine. Thank God you came. They said they were going to kill me. They said it was a parting gift from the mayor."
I bristle with anger. "I fucking knew it. That motherfucker is dead," I say.
"Call the cops," says Tess. "Oh my god, you're bleeding."
That's the last thing I hear before I fall unconscious.
6 Months Later
I roll up my cuffs and adjust the collar on my tux. Tess slips her hand into the crook of my elbow and we step into the ballroom.
It's the first annual Maple Ridge town social, held here at the town's brand new hotel. Over the last few months the Rainbow Café has brought so many visitors and so much new business to the town that an investor stepped in and funded a new hotel and a new public park project. More business are opening every day, and Maple Ridge is starting to show up on lists of "best small towns to live in."
And Mayor Wilkinson is behind bars, being charged for three counts of attempted murder.
"You're the most handsome mayor I've ever seen," whispers Tess into my ear.
"Does that make you royalty?"
"You wish you were a prince."
"You mean I don't get a crown?"
Tess smacks me on the arm. "You need to take this job seriously."
I rub my arm. She hits soft but she hits often, and always in the exact same damn spot. The bruise is starting to build up. "I am," I say. "The town's already doing better than it ever did before. Thanks to me."
Tess rolls her eyes. Whatever.
We dance the night away. I'm not usually one for fucking ballroom dancing, but once I've got a solid bottle of champagne in me, it becomes a lot more tolerable. We're the center of attention the entire night, not to mention the best dressed. Everyone wants to get to know the new mayor and his bride. A dozen people congratulate us belatedly on our marriage and pregnancy, and we grin to each other each time they do. Nobody knows that it was a fake marriage turned real.
Then I see something that makes me proud. Jason finally has Crystal on his arm. "Damn," I say to Tess, "look at that girl 'miring."
"Good job, you pussy," I call out to Jason. Tess pinches me on the ass, hard this time, out of view from Jason. I flinch and a wave of cold sweat flickers over my body. "Just joking," I call out. "Fuck, that hurt."
After we've had enough of the dance, Tess and I sneak out on a back patio. The sky is clear tonight and the stars shine bright. I polish off my champagne. Tess sips her non-alcoholic ginger ale and pats her belly.
I fish around in my pocket, and I feel it. I close my fist around it.
"Tess," I say. "I love you." Three words that I've never said to a woman before.
Her eyes well up with tears, and that's when I drop onto one knee. I pull it out of my pocket. The diamond engagement ring that her father gave to her mother. "Will you marry me?"
Tess's eyes shine bright in the moonlight. "Fake marry you?"
"Real marry me," I say.
"Yes," she says, "of course I will." A single tear of joy falls down her cheek as I slip the ring on her finger.
I stand up and wrap her in my arms, feeling our growing baby between us. And I know I'm exactly where I should be.
25
Tess
"Oh my god," I gasp.
Hunter's stubble brushes against my thigh and his tongue flicks over my clit. My legs twitch as he tastes the most intimate part of me.
"I fucking need you now," I say.
He kisses my stomach, my breasts, my chin, and finally my lips. I bite his lip hungrily and I taste myself on him. I never thought I'd want to try that, but with him, I feel completely free. I know that he'll never judge me, and if I think it's h
ot, he'll think it's even hotter.
His hard cock slides against my slit. I'm so wet for him, and I feel so empty without him inside me. "Please," I whisper. "Put it in."
He fills me up, stretches me for him, and I gasp as he slips all the way in. "Oh my fucking god," I say. "You feel so fucking good."
My breasts ache for his touch, and he indulges me. Fully. He brushes his cheeks over my nipples, then takes each one in his mouth in turn, one after another, gently biting and licking them until they harden.
"You're my fuck toy," he breathes in my ear as he thrusts in and out. "Your pussy was built for my pleasure. It's all fucking mine. For now and forever."
I buck my hips to meet his thrusts. They go deeper than I've ever felt, and I can't help myself. My fingers find my clit, and I rub myself with the rhythm of his fucking.
"You—fuck—me—so—good," I breathe, and I use my fingers to hold myself open wider for him. I love the way his cock feels slipping between my fingers. I love knowing the pleasure I give him. I don't want it to ever stop.
"Oh, fuck," he says, and he pulls out for an instant. "God," I say, "put it back, I need you in me."
His body is so fucking perfect. I could get lost in those strong arms, those broad shoulders, that tight stomach.
He squeezes his eyes shut tight, and a couple drops of pre-cum drip out of his cock onto my belly. "Fuck," he says, "I almost lost control."
"I wish you would," I say. I run a finger over the droplets and bring it to my mouth, savoring his taste.
"You are so fucking sexy," he says. I feel him enter me again and start to thrust. Fuck. Now I'm getting close.
"Fuck me from behind," I say. I grip his wonderful, thick cock and slide it out of me. I flip over onto all fours, to get my pregnant belly out of the way. Then he enters me again, and the pleasure starts building again.
"Oh, yes," I gasp. His thumb presses against my ass, and it makes me feel so fucking dirty for him. It makes me want to push back even harder against him, to let him fill me up as much as he fucking can. I want everything he has to give me.
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