“Blink,” Sawyer told him.
Breathing deep, Beck did as she instructed; his vision slowly cleared. Once he could focus, he panicked for a completely different reason.
“Shit.”
He sat up, grabbed the headboard for balance, and snatched the paper from Sawyer’s hand.
“Are we—?” Beck looked at Sawyer. “Did we—? We’re married?”
“Yes.” She collapsed, her head hitting the pillow.
“I’m an asshole.”
Sawyer held out her left hand; a gold band circled her ring finger.
“Say hello to Mrs. Asshole.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
♫~♫~♫
PRESENT DAY
AS BECK FINISHED relaying the events of the past six months to Joplin, he waited for her reaction.
“You were married in Las Vegas?”
“Yes.”
“On a drunken whim?”
“Pretty much,” Beck said with a sigh, certain he knew what Joplin was about to say.
“Congratulations,” she scoffed. “You’re the new Kane.”
Shocked, Beck’s mouth fell open. So much for reading his old friend’s mind. He thought Joplin would chide him for jumping into marriage. Or sympathize because he was in love with a woman who gave their marriage a shelf life of one year.
Instead, Joplin put a spin on the situation he hadn’t considered and didn’t like one little bit.
“Bullshit,” Beck grumbled.
“You both had a quickie Vegas wedding. I doubt Kane loved his bride. Still,” Joplin shrugged. “When two members of the same band tie the knot in the same place—”
“Five years apart,” Beck reminded her.
“The circumstances aren’t so different.”
“Again, bullshit. Kane and I are nothing alike. He was a drug-addicted, alcoholic, self-centered dick. Still is for all I know.”
Joplin knew how to hide her emotions. However, everyone had a weak spot, and Kane Harrison used to be hers. Some people and the memories they evoked were hard to put into perspective even five years later.
The stiffening of her body, however brief, told him Joplin wasn’t as immune to the ghost of Kane Harrison as she would like to believe.
“I meant the comparison as a joke.”
“Ha, ha.” Beck met her gaze. “I don’t see you laughing either.”
“Note to self, don’t attempt a career as a standup comic.”
“Not if you want to make a decent living.”
“Word is Kane’s clean and sober,” Joplin said. “Has been for several years.”
Beck shrugged.
“Good for him.”
“He was once a good friend of yours. Close as a brother. Kane has his life together—”
“According to a third-party source.”
“You really don’t care? Not at all?” Joplin shook her head. “You’ve changed, Beck Kramer. And not in a good way.”
“Of course, I care. Would be easier if I didn’t.” Scrubbing a hand over his face, Beck let out a frustrated growl. “I love the son of a bitch. Seems I always will.”
He shouldn’t have been surprised when Joplin remained silent. Her feelings for Kane merged into a more complicated form of love than he could imagine. He doubted she could explain her emotions if she wanted to.
“Back to you and your wife.”
“What about us?”
“You stopped the story on the morning after. Continue.” Joplin settled deeper into her chair. “Tell me why you’re convinced Sawyer doesn’t love you?”
“The contract was a big giveaway.”
“Contract?” She frowned. “Makes sense. From what you’ve told me, Sawyer’s a smart woman.”
“In the brain department, she’d give you a run for your money.”
“Very smart,” Joplin chuckled. “The terms of the will stipulate that to inherit, the marriage must last at least a year, right?”
Beck nodded.
“Sawyer will be a very wealthy woman. I’m sure she trusts you, but any lawyer worth her salt would insist on a prenuptial agreement. Or in your case, postnuptial.”
“Had the damn thing drawn up the day we returned from Las Vegas.”
“I’m confused,” Joplin said. “Do you want half her money?”
“Are you trying to piss me off?”
“No. But—”
“I need some air.” Beck rolled to his feet. Two long strides, and he opened the trailer door. “Let’s go for a drive.”
“Sure.” Joplin exited, squinting into the sun before putting on her sunglasses. She nodded toward a row of trucks. “Let me take a wild guess. Yours is the one with Kramer Construction printed on the door?”
“Funny. Maybe you can salvage a comedy career after all.”
“Always nice to have a backup plan.” Joplin followed him to the parking area. She pulled herself into the passenger side of his long-bed Ford. “By the way, my goal wasn’t to piss you off.”
“No?”
“Nope,” she said. “Your reaction was just a nice bonus.”
“Smartass.”
Beck slammed shut the door, smiling despite himself as he walked to the driver’s side. Rather than head back to town, he turned right, away from Eatonville. Nothing for miles but wide-open highway, he flipped off the air conditioner, rolled down the windows and hit the gas.
Joplin didn’t comment. Instead, she leaned toward the warm breeze, lifted her face, and let the air whip her expertly cut hair to hell and back again. After a few miles, she sat back, turning slightly his way.
“You say Sawyer’s still in love with her first husband.”
“Mm.”
“I say she’s in love with you.”
The hope that surged through Beck’s body was so strong if he were standing, he thought the emotion might bring him to his knees. Could Joplin be right? He quickly dismissed the idea. He had solid proof she was wrong, too compelling to ignore. He lived the truth every day.
“The contract,” Beck spat the word, but the bad taste, as always, lingered.
“How much does the contract set aside for you at the end of the year?” When Beck sent her a dirty look, Joplin chuckled. “I didn’t say you’ll take the money. Or will you?”
“I don’t want a fucking dime. And the amount doesn’t matter.”
“Just checking.” She patted his arm. “Some people would say the amount is everything.”
“Not me.”
“Maybe the payoff is a test.”
“She knew I’d turn down the money.”
Beck could still feel the shock and anger he felt when he read the entire document Sawyer asked him to sign. The first part was cut and dried. He agreed to give up any and all claim to the bulk of her inheritance. No problem. The money he would receive at the end of a year was more than generous. Again, he expected a lawyer would insist on compensation.
Beck scratched out the offer without raising a sweat.
Then, he reached the last part, what he called Sawyer’s codicil. To him, as shocking as the one her husband left behind. Beck’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel as he remembered reading the words for the first time.
“We didn’t plan to get married. But once the deed was done, I thought we might have a real relationship. At least try.”
“What did Sawyer say?”
“Nothing to say. She made her feelings clear, written word by freaking word.”
The marriage would be in name only. Neither party was expected to perform marital duties beyond co-habituating in the same house and perpetuating the idea of a stable union to their family, friends, and acquaintances.
“Okay,” Joplin said. “An old-fashioned marriage of convenience.”
“Roommates.” Beck forced himself to unclench his teeth. “Friendly, courteous, considerate.”
“But no sex?”
“No sex. Which I could live w
ith.”
Joplin raised an eyebrow, the doubt shining in her green eyes.
“Still here, aren’t I? Still standing. Still functioning.” Still jacking off in the shower on a regular basis. “The lack of sex isn’t the point.”
“Ha!”
Beck took a moment to breathe in the fresh air.
“Not the only point.”
“What did Sawyer give as her reasons?”
When Beck shrugged, Joplin reached over and punched him. She barely made an impact. However, the sentiment was the same, as if she hauled off and walloped the hell out of him.
“Fool.”
“Me?” Beck scoffed. “I’m not the one who felt the need to literally spell out the terms of our marriage.”
“You spent the last hour bragging up how you and Sawyer talk about everything. And now, when your relationship is on the line, you can’t manage to spit out what could be the most important question you’ll ever ask?”
“We used to talk about everything. Now?” He shrugged. “Sawyer’s turned into a stranger. The easy friendship is gone. Our conversations have been reduced to small talk. I ask if she fed Ringo, she asks what time my mother expects us for Sunday dinner.”
“Sounds very polite,” Joplin said. “And boring.”
“Sawyer wants boring. Nothing more.”
“Unless…”
“What?” Beck demanded.
“The wedding was her idea, her inebriated idea. In the cold, sober light of day, Sawyer felt guilty, convinced she dragged you into her mess. Maybe she’s worried you’ll stick with her because that’s what you do. You stick.”
“Because I’m a nice guy?” he sneered, heartily sick of the term.
“Nice isn’t a dirty word,” Joplin chided.
“If I were more of a bastard, maybe Sawyer would be in my bed.”
“Or she wouldn’t be in your life at all because smart women run from bastards.”
“You didn’t.”
Beck sighed. Joplin wanted to help untangle his mess of a life, and he thanked her by rubbing past mistakes in her face. Turned out he was more of a dickhead than he realized.
“I was barely twenty-one.” Her mouth twisted into a semblance of a smile. “Hardly an excuse, but the best one I can give you. Until Kane, I walked a straight and narrow line. You’re the good guy? I was the good girl.”
“No wonder we never clicked,” Beck teased. “Hard to generate heat with so much good floating around.”
“Maybe,” Joplin said. “Everyone deserves one youthful rebellion. Mine left a few scars and taught me a valuable lesson.”
“What could Kane Harrison possibly teach you?”
“I thought my love could fix him. Make him whole.” She shook her head. “Pure hubris. The only person who had the power to save Kane was Kane.”
“You think he has?”
“Maybe. One day at a time.” Joplin blinked, clearing away the past. “Talk to Sawyer. Air out your problems before you lose her.”
“Can’t seem to find the right words.”
“Try harder; we both know love doesn’t wait around every corner, Beck.”
“What if she isn’t interested?”
“Better to know the truth than to beat yourself up wondering.”
“Have dinner with us tonight.” Beck rushed ahead before Joplin could say no. “I told you about Sawyer. Wouldn’t you like to meet her?”
“I’ll go.”
“Great.”
“If you call and ask Sawyer if she doesn’t mind.”
“She won’t,” Beck assured Joplin. “We have last-minute dinner guests all the time.”
“Have you mentioned me to her?”
“Yes.”
“Does she know you thought you were in love?”
“I was in love. Then, not now,” Beck said. “Sawyer’s aware of both facts.”
“You don’t spring an ex old love on your wife—convenient or otherwise—without warning. Call her,” Joplin insisted.
Certain she was way off base, rather than argue a point he couldn’t win, Beck pulled to the side of the road, took out his phone, and gave in to her demand.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
♫~♫~♫
SAWYER LAY IN a meadow of sweet, fragrant lavender. Eyes closed, the sun caressed her face while a pair of talented hands caressed her body.
“Beck,” she sighed.
As he nibbled on her neck, his lips curved into a smile.
“Tell me what you want.”
“You know.”
“We’re in your dream,” he reminded her. “Guide me; I’ll go wherever you want.”
For a start, don’t remind me this is a dream, Sawyer wanted to say. Afraid to chase her fantasy Beck away, she pushed the thought from her mind and concentrated on his touch.
“Lower,” she urged.
“Here?”
Sawyer gasped as his hand closed over her breast; Beck chuckled.
“I’m naked.” Why hadn’t she noticed before? “You’re naked.”
Beck covered her body with his, warm skin against warm skin. Loving the sensation, she wound her arms around him, sinking further into the lavender and the dream.
“Sawyer,” he whispered. “Sawyer.”
“Sawyer!”
With a start, her eyes popped open, disappointed to find she wasn’t in a meadow with Beck but in her office. The dream was so real, she looked down and sighed with relief to find herself fully clothed.
“Hello.” Talia snapped her fingers. “Anyone home?”
“What?”
“You left a puddle of nap drool on your desk,” Talia pointed out. “And a bit on your chin.”
“Great.” Sawyer took care of the mess, tossing the used tissues into the trash. “Anything else? Preferably something less embarrassing?”
“Mrs. Carlyle stopped in to see if we could handle the flowers for her daughter’s wedding.”
“We can.” Stretching her arms over her head, Sawyer yawned. “Any reason the good news couldn’t wait.”
“Until after your daily afternoon siesta?” Talia snickered. “I need your signature for a special delivery.”
Sawyer scrolled her name. Instead of heading back to the store, Talia took a seat.
“A little early for closing time.”
“Archie will give me a shout if I’m needed. Right now, we should talk.”
“About?”
“Your sleeping habits, which, not so coincidentally, lead back to your marriage.”
“Neither is your business.”
“Wrong. Want to hear why?
“No. Go away.”
When Talia ignored her, Sawyer flopped back into her chair with a sigh.
“Top of the list, I’m your best friend which gives me special privileges. I’m allowed to stick my nose in your business. Especially when you’ve created a mess, and either won’t or can’t pull yourself out.”
“Can’t,” Sawyer muttered.
“Hm.” Talia didn’t sound convinced. “Second on the list. You show up at my house in the wee hours of the night, two, three, sometimes four times a week, bake your brains out, then sneak home before Beck figures out you were gone.”
“I don’t want to wake him.” Lousy excuse, Sawyer knew, but her brain was still fuzzy.
“What about Sharon and me?”
“Now that Julia sleeps through the night, you’re dead to the world soon as your head hits the pillow.”
“My little girl’s an angel.” Always the proud mother, Talia’s face lit at the mention of her new daughter. A second later, as her attention returned to Sawyer, her smile faded. “I understand your problem. If you bake at home, Beck will ask why you can’t sleep. My suggestion? Tell him.”
“Simple insomnia,” Sawyer said with a shrug.
“Simple, my ass. Let me help before your life burns to ashes.”
“A bit dramatic.”
Talia removed a compact from her pocket and pushed the mirror into Sawyer’s hands.
“You’re a mess.”
Sawyer took one look at herself and barely managed to maintain a neutral expression. Inside, she cringed—hard. Her hair stuck up in a half-dozen different directions and in the corner of each eye lurked crusty bits of drying goo.
The goo she took care of with another tissue. Her hair could wait for a trip to the bathroom. The other problems, dark circles and an air of sadness, weren’t as easy to fix.
Talia was one of only two people who knew Sawyer’s marriage was a sham. Beck confided in his mother. Whether he shared the terms of the contract, she couldn’t say.
“You know everything. You and Sharon.”
Talia swore to take the information to her grave—after she told her wife. Sawyer trusted both women’s discretion.
“The answer to your problem is simple.”
After months of complicated, simple would be good.
“Tell me.”
“Grab your big, gorgeous hunk of a husband and screw his brains out.”
“Bad idea.”
“You know you want to.”
“What I want isn’t the point,” Sawyer said. “Sex with Beck would be nice, but—"
“Nice?” Talia scoffed. “Beck Kramer has all the earmarks of an excellent lover.”
“Says the dedicated lesbian.”
“Okay, you’re the dedicated heterosexual. Tell me you don’t agree.”
Of course, Sawyer agreed. Just the sight of Beck’s bulging biceps made her mouth water. If she ever saw him naked—other than in her dreams—she would probably melt into a puddle right at his feet.
“I forced him into marriage. I can’t push my way into his bed.”
“Forced? I don’t think so. For all his nice guy tendencies, Beck doesn’t strike me as a man who does anything unless he’s one hundred percent on board.”
“Beck signed the contract.”
“Once he made you remove all mention of compensation. But you knew he wouldn’t accept your money. As for the rest?” Talia rolled her eyes. “You painted Beck into a corner without leaving him an escape route.”
“No one made him agree.”
ALMOST BLUE Page 14