His Wife
Copyright © 2017 by Ashley Hastings. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover Design: Just Write. Creations
Table of Contents
Copyright Page
His Wife
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Forty
Forty-One
Forty-Two
Forty-Three
Forty-Four
Forty-Five
Author’s Note
About the Author
For Kelly, because everything is always for you.
Prologue
The lake sparkled and glimmered like a thousand precious jewels sprinkled its surface. There was not a cloud in the sky to block the merciless rays of the sun as they beat down on the water. Dragonflies skipped and wheeled recklessly overhead, playing in the oven-warm air as if they did not have a care in the world, and they laughed at the oppressive heat that made the humans take shelter. The lake was calm and serene, placid even.
Curiously, boaters had not arrived yet on this bright Fourth of July morning. Perhaps it was too early for fishing and water sports, or perhaps it was just too warm in humid Mississippi to be out and moving. Despite the humidity, a prolonged drought had necessitated a fireworks ban to prevent wildfires, but far in the distance, some reckless rebel was already setting off a few explosions, sharp and rapid like gunshots. Whatever the case, the lake was quiet, at rest.
You know the adage, "Still waters run deep"? Deep, deep below the calm surface in cooler waters untouched by the insistent sun, a storm was brewing in the bitter darkness. A boat was waiting on the dark bottom of the lake, covered in mud and silt and the slow passing of time. Waiting patiently to be found. Waiting for its return to the world above. The boat did not mind waiting. It knew nothing of time. It knew nothing of love and marriage; those were human concerns. The vessel only cared about its macabre cargo, and it guarded that baggage fiercely. Because you see, the boat's only cargo was a terrible secret, and once this boat was found and its secrets revealed for all to see, the storm would rage at last.
One
When I opened the hotel room door expecting to see my mother, I saw instead the expectant face of a guy about my age. He looked me up and down slowly, with a critical eye that I didn't appreciate. Before I could get too creeped out, he spoke.
"You're too tall, Darby. Are you seriously going to wear those fuck me heels to dinner? Although, I think I wouldn't mind taking you up on that offer." He rocked back from the door, and shoved his hands into his jeans, grinning at me.
I stared, speechless. Who is this guy and what the hell was that all about? That is what I got for opening a door without checking the peephole first. Stranger danger, and all that. I should have realized New York City would be weird.
"Um, I think you have the wrong room?" I know he called me by name, but I had no idea who he was.
I closed the door with a firm, satisfying click and engaged the safety chain this time. I went back to vigorously brushing my dark red hair. I swear, no matter how many times I fixed my hair in a day, I always had a tangle of curls. Of course, hours of airplanes and airports hadn't helped the situation. I didn't like the knots in my hair. Thankfully, I loved the color – so dark auburn; it was almost brown.
Another knock on the door, louder this time. I rolled my eyes as I peeped through the door expecting the weird guy, but instead I saw my mother, well dressed and coiffed as ever. Releasing the chain, I yanked the door open with a swiftness that caused her to widen her eyes.
"Mom, you finally arrived." I leaned in for a hug, which she returned halfheartedly, and I saw the person from before still lurked in the hall like a creeper.
"Darby, it's rude to leave a guest outside. Invite us in, for goodness sake."
Confused, I held open the door, and mom and the creepy guy came inside. My mother draped in her usual cloud of perfume, and the stranger had on too much aftershave. The combined effect was cloying and instantly started a headache. I stared at the two of them, unsure of what was happening.
"This is Michael, darling. You remember him, right? Barbara's son."
No, I didn't remember him, nor did I remember Barbara. However, that wasn't what was important now. Why was he here? Why was he butting in on my long-awaited New York City vacation with my mother?
I hadn't spoken my thoughts aloud; just the same my mother answered me anyway.
"I invited Michael to come along, dear. He heard I was coming to see you to celebrate your college graduation, and he has friends in the city he wanted to see. I thought dinner tonight would be a great time for you two to get to know each other better. After all, you are coming back to Silver Falls with me now that you have finished school, and Michael just opened his chiropractic clinic there. Won't it be great to know someone in town already?" She patted her hair and primped in the mirror over the sink. Mom even took a moment to reapply her lipstick, even though I couldn't tell the difference after she finished. Her makeup was always flawless. "I've already put my luggage in the room next door. Are you ready to go eat?"
As usual, when my mother was around, I was speechless. Michael, however, seemed to think this was an entirely reasonable situation, and he jumped right in.
"You are younger than I thought you would be. I mean, I know you just finished your degree, but your mom says you majored in library science. I guess I just thought librarians were born old, you know? You kind of have that whole sexy librarian look going on." He stepped closer and winked as he spoke.
Again, what the hell? I took a moment to gather my thoughts, and to choose my words with care. He was so inappropriate, and my mother didn't seem even to notice his comments.
I looked at him with a blank expression on my face. He was a nice looking man, I guess. Average height and good hair. Dressed neatly. He didn't look like the loser he was. He was the type of guy I could be interested in, at least until he opened his mouth. I had no idea why he complained about my heels. At five feet four inches, even in heels, I wasn't very tall.
"It's good to meet you, Michael. Again." I honestly didn't remember him at all, and it didn't appear that I had missed much.
Flustered, I pushed on, turning to my mom. "I'm glad to see you, mom."
She beamed. "Let's go eat. However, first I need to return a few calls." She was a very successful real estate agent, and a workaholic. She had been a hard worker my entire life. Even so, I smelled a rat. "Why don't the two of you run ahead, and I will catch up to you later?"
Bingo. She was setting me up with Michael, even though he was an apparent inappropriate as
shole. My stomach lurched with a sudden onset of nerves. I wanted to protest, but somehow I was never able to find the right words to squirm out of her control without looking like a jerk. I didn't think it would be socially acceptable to blurt out that I didn't want to be pushed into a blind date with a man my mom had found for me.
MICHAEL AND I WENT down to the hotel restaurant. We asked for a table for three, but for now it was just the two of us. I was optimistic my mother was coming, until the texts started arriving.
My mom texted first. “Be there soon. Just need to make these calls.”
My reply was short and to the point. “Hurry, plz. This is awkward. I don’t know this guy at all, and I don’t think I want to know him.”
“Sorry, Michael. I’m just checking on my mother.” I smiled a small, reserved smile and placed my phone next to my silverware.
I made an effort to interact with Michael, but the conversation was flat.
“...so that’s when I bought my Mercedes, but I’m wondering if I should trade it in on a Tesla. I like the red ones. That paint color costs a little extra, but it’s so worth it. Sexy.”
What? I hadn’t been listening to him. So far, all he had to contribute to the conversation was a running list of all his worldly possessions.
I checked my phone again. No messages.
I fired off a text with one hand. “Where are u???”
“I’ll be there in a minute. Stop whining. And make an effort with Michael.”
Two hours later, I was so very sorry I hadn't spoken up for myself and made other plans for my evening. Michael and I were still sitting at the dinner table, staring at each other. My mom was a no-show, and I was not at all surprised by her absence.
Michael droned on and on. “I bought a townhouse about a month ago. It needed a complete remodel, so I’ve been keeping busy picking out granite countertops and flooring. I wanted a place that showed how successful I am. You know, I’m a doctor now, and my home needs to scream money. Otherwise, what’s the point of going to school all those years?”
I had all but stopped replying to him. I didn’t even own a car. I could care less about his granite problems.
I kept texting my mom.
“Save me from this guy!!!!”
Finally, I felt my phone vibrate on the table.
“I’m swamped with work. Catch up with u tomorrow at breakfast.”
She was ignoring my frantic "save me" texts.
I was resentful of her for putting me in this situation. We were supposed to be spending time together as that was the point of this trip. I wasn't shocked, however. My mom and I had never had much in common. After my dad left when I was a baby, my mom had to work hard to support us. She went back to school and got her real estate license, and then threw herself into her work. I admired her so much for raising me on her own with no support, but as I got older, I sometimes thought she worked extra hours just to avoid me, not for any financial gains.
My mom had always taken good care of me. I was fed, clothed, housed, and educated. I worked a part-time job in high school so that I could afford little extras, not because my mom didn't provide for me. We didn't fight, and she didn't have crazy, restrictive rules for my upbringing. However, she was never really interested in me or what I was doing. I was invisible to her. Oh, sure, she showed up for my dance recitals or awards ceremonies at school, but she was the parent whose eyes were on her phone, not on her daughter. Business came first. Always.
So, now I was stuck at this dinner table with some man I didn't know, and my mother was conspicuously absent. Michael and I tried to keep the conversation going but there were frequent awkward silences, and there was zero chemistry between us. Not that he had noticed. He stared at my boobs at least six different times, and he continued to drop hints about all the things we would do together once I returned to Silver Falls, including some not so seductive sexual innuendoes.
“You will like what I’ve done with the master bedroom. I bought a king-sized bed, and some really expensive silk sheets. I can’t wait to see what your hair looks like spread across those sheets.” Michael leaned forward as he spoke and rested his clammy hand over mine. I drew back, repulsed.
Not likely, I thought. I would never be so desperate for a man that Michael would start looking good to me.
“Are you kidding me? Do these pickup lines ever work for you?” I was proud of myself for expressing my thoughts. Michael was ridiculous.
How could I make a graceful exit? I hadn't even really eaten anything. I was thinking of grabbing something from the taco place next door, and taking a walk so I could see a little of the city. Anything would be better than this.
He ignored my rebuff. "You look like your back hurts. Let me give you a massage and take care of that for you."
Startled, I sat up straight and looked at Michael. He had said some outrageous things during this dinner, but I had ignored them. But now he wanted to actually put his hands on me?
"That's ok. My back is fine. I'm not hurting at all." I tried to say it as firmly as possible as I leaned back in my seat and sat up straighter.
"Really?" He looked skeptical. "I'm a professional. Backs are what I do for a living. Just let me rub on you for a while, and everything will be so much better. You will see." He winked at me, and then got up from the table to come around to my side.
He was so gross that I shivered in revulsion. He wanted to rub on me? I couldn’t help but think that Michael went to chiropractor school, or whatever, just for the cheesy pickup line. Panicked, I looked from side to side, trying to figure out what to do. I didn't want him putting his hands on me; however, I couldn't find the words to tell him to stay the hell away from me.
Was I just destined to spend my life manipulated by others for their purposes? When would I learn to speak up for myself? I needed to get better at handling myself. Haters are gonna hate, creepers are gonna creep, and all that. It was up to me to manage my reactions to stressful situations, and this had turned into a difficult situation. For sure.
"Sweetheart, there you are." A deep voice was speaking from the table behind me. I tuned it out right away because I didn't know anyone in New York, so he couldn’t be talking to me, but I noted how sexy and masculine he sounded.
Michael stopped with no warning and stared hard at someone over my shoulder. I turned around in my seat, and in my confusion, I tried to rise. Unfortunately, I caught my heel on the chair, and pitched forward, graceless as always. I fell face first into the crotch of a god.
Strong hands grabbed my elbows and pulled me to my feet. I looked up and gasped. The newcomer was tall, dark, and with movie star looks that would make George Clooney in his prime weep with envy. Salt and pepper hair, with more pepper than salt. Firm chin. Deep, brown eyes with a hint of crinkling at the corners. Lips that were so perfect I wanted to trace them with my fingers. I completely forgot about Michael, my mom, the restaurant, and all of humanity. I just wanted to stare at this rare specimen of seasoned masculine perfection forever.
"Darby, what are you doing?" Just like that, Michael resurfaced in my world and resumed annoying me. His whiny voice was an unwelcome intrusion.
To my surprise, the stranger didn't let me go. Instead, he tucked me under his arm as if we had known each other for ages, and turned to face Michael, who was scowling.
"Let’s go. I'll give you that massage upstairs, where we can be alone." Michael grabbed my arm, and now it was the stranger's turn to look annoyed. He roughly pulled Michael's hand away from me and stared him down.
Now I was in a bizarre tug of war with stupid Michael and the handsome stranger. I knew who I wanted to win.
"Angel, I didn't know you ordered a massage." The stranger smiled down at me; however, he still didn't release his hold. I was too dumbstruck to process what was happening, but I didn't care as long as he kept his arm around me.
"Who is this guy?" Michael's irrational annoyance was growing by the second, along with the volume of his voice. Heads turned as p
eople started noticing us. Great. I hated being the center of attention.
"Um..." That was all I had to offer at that moment. I looked up at my dark god and blushed. My college degree hadn’t prepared me for this.
The stranger was still staring at Michael, and his demeanor was unruffled in direct contrast to Michael’s bluster. "I'm her boyfriend. Who are you?"
"Boyfriend? Your mom said you were single. Like, forever alone single. I thought you were a sure thing, and I was doing you a favor by taking you to dinner tonight." Michael was indignant, and he looked at me as if I had done him wrong.
A sure thing? My mom and I might not be close, and she might have pushed me to this date, but I know she didn't pimp me out. My face flushed. I opened my mouth to tell him off, still not sure of what I was going to say, but the stranger beat me to it.
"Looks like you were wrong. Darby and I have been seeing each other for months. I'm looking forward to meeting her mother soon." The stranger was unflappable, utterly unconcerned about what Michael had to say.
I didn't know why he persisted in pretending we knew each other, but I didn't care. I certainly would like to know him. I was awestruck.
“Right. We’ve been dating for months.” I had to clear my throat to get the words out. I sounded as intelligent as a parrot, but at least I was speaking again.
My eyes trailed down his body, but he was more than just physically attractive. It wasn't just his incredible good looks. He had a presence about him, an air of command. Maybe in some past life, he was the captain of a ship or commanded troops. I envied his confidence, his smooth way of speaking, and his total control of the situation.
"Now that I think about it, calling me her boyfriend seems silly. We are so much more than boyfriend and girlfriend, aren't we, baby?" He pulled me even closer and gave me a soft kiss on my forehead, and another one briefly on the lips.
I stared into his eyes, making no attempt to hide my attraction to him. I had never had butterflies likes these before. I should have been freaking out that a complete stranger was acting with such familiarity towards me, but I wasn't. I didn't care if he had a head injury, was suffering from a mental illness, or if this was some elaborate plan to distract me and steal my wallet. He could have everything I owned.
His Wife Page 1