by S. J. Sylvis
It was perplexing, to say the least.
I was almost envious of Derek. He seemed so onboard with the whole “us getting married” thing. The last dinner we’d had, a few weeks back, was exactly like all the rest. Once his colleagues had left for the night, we’d had a glass of wine together. He was nonchalant, barely looking up from his phone while asking me random questions. You know, all those questions you’d ask when you were trying to get to know someone.
In fact, I almost ripped the phone out of his hand to see if he was actually typing my answers in to analyze them later.
He must have been, because a few days later, my father had called me, his voice more chipper than normal, and told me that Derek had asked him permission to proposition me. He literally used the word “proposition.”
I almost dropped the phone in horror.
Already?! Like, hello. That was way fast. I mean, sure, I had been to dinner with him several times and attended some galas with him, but I felt like I barely knew him—the real him. But being the good daughter that I was, nearly pleased that my father was actually being kind to me, I said, “Oh, that’s great!”
Yeah, I was pathetic. But hey, my dad wasn’t sulking, so that was good, right?
I huffed and pulled the pillow over my face.
The little voice in the back of my head whispered, Gahhhhh, why do I feel so suffocated?!
I chuckled. Probably the pillow over your head, or the fact that you’re about to marry someone you barely know because “that’s just the way things work in our world.”
Why was this so hard?
It doesn’t have to be.
Oh, but it did. I either married Derek and pleased my parents, or I could say goodbye to my entire family. I’d be taken off the family tree faster than I could say, “Adios!”
“Knock, knock.” Ugh, what is she doing here? I sighed as I heard my door open and close. “Sweetie, are you in here? I’ve brought a very handsome visitor.”
I popped up quickly, my caramel-brown hair flying into my face. I watched as my mother strolled into my bedroom, her arm interlocked with my… Boyfriend? Partner? Future husband? Derek?
I tried to smile at the pair of them, but it felt off. I probably looked as if I were constipated or something.
“Hello,” I managed to say. Why are they here?!
“I found Derek strolling around the house after he dropped some papers off to your father and realized he was looking for you! He didn’t know you lived in the guesthouse all on your own.”
I almost snickered. All on my own? I lived thirty yards from my parents’ house and had a mysterious maid who did all my laundry and folded my clothes for me. And I kept finding premade smoothies in my fridge—probably from Lupe. She was always my favorite.
Derek eyed me cautiously, and I felt myself pull back a tad.
“Yes, thank you, Mary.” Derek turned and placed his other hand on hers. “I was hoping I’d get to see Fallon a few more times before I leave for Guam in a couple weeks.”
My mother blushed like he was asking her out instead of me. I held back my eye-roll.
“Oh, yes! I’m sure Fallon would love to spend some more time with you before you leave. Right, honey?” I brought my attention to my mother’s and gulped. She had on her you-better-act-like-a-lady-or-else smile, so I happily turned toward Derek and smiled. Before I could say anything, my mother giggled. “Let me get out of your hair. You two have a lot of talking to do, I’m sure! I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Fallon. Don’t forget we have to be at the club at 8 am sharp to start preparing for next week’s fundraising event.”
“Don’t wanna miss that,” I mumbled.
My mother quickly turned away after kissing Derek on the cheek like he was her first born and shuffled out the door. Awkwardness settled into the room as soon as she was gone, and I found myself fidgeting on the bed. Derek, dressed in his navy suit and crisp white shirt, leaned against the wooden door jam. For some reason, he seemed different. Maybe it was the fact that we were actually alone instead of putting on some silly show for his colleagues or future clients. There were no busy waiters shuffling around us, and we weren’t at a stuffy event for the company. It was just us… in my room… alone. His attention was on me and only me.
The other night at dinner, when we were actually alone at the table, he barely glanced at me.
Now, he was staring at me like I was dinner.
“So,” he started, running a few fingers through his gelled, dark hair. “I thought the other night went well.”
I stayed silent because I thought the other night went anything but “well.”
“Did you feel the connection we had?”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed.
“The connection? Derek, you barely looked at me while we were having wine.” I stood up from the bed and crossed my arms over my dress. “It was the first time we were actually alone without the stares from other people, and it felt like an interrogation. I’ve been on a zillion dates—all with men my parents set me up with in their desperate attempt at some magical fairy tale where I fall madly in love with a trust-fund baby so I can finally become the daughter they truly want—and none of them had ever acted so… formal.”
Derek tsked. “It wasn’t an interrogation. I was just wondering how you’d deal with not getting all my attention. I know girls like you, Fallon. You want my full attention all the time, and the second I don’t give it to you, you throw a fit like a spoiled brat.” He cocked a lazy grin at me, and I felt a fiery concoction of anger and resentment filling my body.
“You obviously have no idea who I am, Derek.”
He pushed off the door jam and sauntered over to me. I suddenly felt small and weak standing in front of him. It was like I was truly seeing him for the first time. He was tall—massive even—definitely over six feet. He had a domineering stare and looked ruthless in his suit. I had always known he was attractive, but he usually placed a warm smile on his face whenever I’d watch him from afar. Now, he looked… intimidating. That was the look he gave women when he wanted something from them, no doubt.
“I don’t. You’re right. Unless you count the pointless things we discussed the other night. But I do know that you and I make a good team. We’ve been on what... five, six, maybe seven dates together, and every time, you’ve acted like the perfect companion. You are intelligent when talking to future clients, you place your hand on mine at just the right time, and you’ve allowed me to kiss you without question. The other night was the final test.”
I huffed and threw my hands on my hips. “You were the one who asked all those “pointless” questions. Might as well have asked me what my favorite color is and if I like to use a bar of soap or body wash. And a test? So what, you’ve been testing me this entire time? Asking me to attend galas with you so you could see how I’d act? And to think, I thought you actually wanted to get to know me,” I scoffed.
Derek raised an eyebrow. “I like the wildness I see in you.”
I raised an eyebrow right back. “Is that why you want to marry me? Because I’ve passed all your tests?”
“Your father told me you want to marry me just as much as I want to marry you.”
I turned around and walked over to my dresser. Why, you ask? I had no idea. I just didn’t want to be standing in front of him any longer. “Well, my father is tired of setting me up with men who I apparently make a fool of myself in front of, so when someone like you says they’d like to take him up on his offer, he jumps at it.”
Derek turned his head slowly over to me, still standing in the same spot. He swiveled on his feet and stalked toward me. I stayed still, letting him know that the glint in his eye and the sharp, contoured edges of his face did nothing to affect me. Yes, he was very attractive, but I didn’t let that sweep me off my feet like every other girl. I thought I had an inkling of who he really was, but now I wasn’t so sure.
“Is that why you kept giving me bogus answers and gulped down your wine like you
hadn’t drank anything in weeks? Was that your way of trying to push me away? Were you purposefully acting like a fool so you could escape marrying someone your parents picked out for you?”
I sucked my cheeks in, not giving him an answer.
“You failed. I found you entertaining, and pair that with all the great acting you’ve done over the last few months… I’d be a damn fool not to marry you.”
Damnit, I shouldn’t have given up when I thought he wasn’t paying attention to me. I should have asked if he wanted to have a food fight instead.
“So, what? You find me entertaining and that’s why my mother is already picking out the color scheme of our wedding? Darn it.”
He laughed, throwing his head back. “See, right there. You’re funny, too. I think we make a great pair.”
That was when it hit me.
That was when it hit me that I wasn’t getting out of this one.
I’d gotten out of so many “almost proposals” and “second dates with the potential one” that it never really hit me that Derek wasn’t the type to back down on something. I’d heard talk of him around the dinner table—bits and pieces, of course, because I’d never paid much attention to anything but the food on my plate—but he was a go-getter (my father’s words, not mine). And if I was on his radar… if he for some insane reason wanted to marry me… that was it.
“Don’t you think it’s strange to marry someone you don’t love?” I whispered while wavering between a mental breakdown and hysterical, crazy, put-me-in-the-loony-bin laughter.
His brows furrowed. “No. Not at all. Don’t you see the amazing opportunities this gives the both of us? Not only do we both come from the same background, but I’ll literally inherit some of the business when your father retires. It gives me much more pull than I have now. And you’re made to be the wife of someone like me. You’ll rock it.”
I almost laughed. “Is that your way of giving me a compliment?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “If you’ll take it.”
I rolled my eyes and he chuckled.
“Let me ask you this, Fallon. Why are you okay with marrying someone you don’t love? You think it’s strange, yet here we are…” He waved his hands around the room. “You… me… alone… discussing marriage. Tell me. Why have you continued on with all these “dates” if you’re not on board with this? Haven’t you been raised for this? Aren’t you ready to get on with your life and be a corporate wife?”
I swallowed, feeling even smaller now. In fact, Derek could probably stomp on me like a little ant—that was how small I felt.
My voice broke at first. “Because…” Derek raised his eyebrows at me. “Because I already disappoint my parents every chance I get. I’m tired of bringing home men that they disapprove of. I’m tired of looking at my father’s face as it turns to stone when I tell him what my ‘boyfriend’ does for a living. I’m just kind of sick and tired of being the worthless daughter.”
That was only half true. Sometimes I basked in my rebellious ways—the rule-breaking, the rises I could lure out of my parents—but lately, I just felt tired. All my life I was told to act a certain way, to look a certain way, to freaking curtsy when prompted. And nearly every day, I did the opposite of what I was told, and it was just exhausting. It felt like I was living someone else’s life, and at some point, didn’t I just have to accept the inevitable?
Derek’s jaw clenched at first, but then the muscles along his temples relaxed. “So, what? You’re only doing this to please your parents?”
“I… I don’t know. Maybe. I hear what you’re saying; we make a good pair. I was raised to be a corporate wife, and as much as it annoys me to admit this… you’re not terrible. One minute I’m on board with marrying you, but then the next, I’m… afraid.”
Silence stretched around us, and then he finally nodded. “Don’t be afraid, Fallon. You and I are already good together. Think about how well we’d do if we were actually married.”
I laughed when he turned on his heel. He walked all the way over to the front door before I stopped him.
“So that’s it? We’re just going to get married now?” My heart started to beat faster in my chest, pounding so much it was hard to catch my breath. What the hell was I doing?! Agreeing to marry this guy after going on some bogus dates?! Sure, I had known him and his family for ages, but I didn’t truly know him.
I didn’t know him at all.
Was he attractive?
Yes.
Was he successful?
Absolutely.
Did I like him?
I had no idea, but I surely didn’t love him.
I sighed. I could really use some magic fairy godmother to make me fall in love right about now. Then maybe I wouldn’t be having a minor panic attack. All of a sudden, things were getting real.
Never mind my mother planning my wedding. She’d been planning my wedding for years, but I was currently staring into a pair of dark eyes, seeing a scary future full of uncertainty. And for what? All to please my parents?
To continue being a part of my family?
Ha, what family?
“What do you mean, that’s it?” Derek asked, the three lines on his forehead furrowing.
“I mean…” I started as I walked around my bar, my dress swishing along my hips. “We’ve never even spent any real time together. You’ve kissed me, like, once, and it was in front of people. That’s it. And you’re just ready to propose? We’re going to be getting married. That means… like… sleeping in the same bed and… ya know.” I raised my eyebrows, and Derek looked even more confused. I rolled my eyes. “You know…”
“I know what?”
“SEX! I’m talking about sex. The thing two people do when they’re in love.” I furrowed my brow. “But we’re not in love. We’re not even in like. What are we even doing?!”
I was breathing like a maniac, my chest rising up and down, up and down. The room felt like it was spinning. I hadn’t thought of all this before. I hadn’t thought of anything other than how I could secretly do everything my parents told me NOT to do and still please them at the same time.
What. Did. I. Get. Myself. Into?
“Fallon, relax,” Derek said after chuckling. “Your parents did it. My parents did it. Our grandparents did it.”
My mouth fell open. I was horrified. “Did IT? Like sex?! Why are you even bringing that up?!”
“I meant an arranged marriage… not sex. Although, I’m sure they did that, too. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be standing here right now, arguing over having sex when we’re married.”
“Oh,” I said, my heart still flying a million miles a second.
“Just take a breath, Fallon,” Derek repeated, pulling the door open. “Everything will fall into place when it’s the right time. I have no doubt that you’ll fall into my bed willingly.”
My body went ice cold, and anger quickly melted away any fear that I had been feeling. “I surely wouldn’t be falling into it any other way.”
Derek flashed a dangerous grin my way, and I was sure it would have caused some other woman’s panties to fly off her body and out the door…but not mine.
It made me feel… gross. Derek walked out the door and yelled back, “I’ll call you soon, Fallon.” Then he shut it behind him.
I slowly sunk to the ground, my back resting against the side of my bar. It was like wrought-iron bars shot up around my body and caged me in.
I felt detained in my own skin, and the only thing I wanted to do was break free.
An arranged marriage… that’s what this was.
Breaking free was just what I was gonna do… even if it was only temporary.
Chapter Two
Emmett
I leaned back on my leather chair and bit my fist as I watched Axe work his charm on the client. She was a hot little piece—if you were into the whole “I’m a stripper” thing. Her platinum hair was long and messy, falling halfway down her back. Except, right now, it wasn’t hanging do
wn her back. It was pulled over to the side, resting on her bare shoulder. Her orange-ish colored lower back was exposed as Axe continued to tattoo the purple and pink butterfly right above her G-string.
“Yeah, you’ve probably seen me around.” The stripper look-alike giggled. “I actually work down at Platinum’s.”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. I fucking knew it. Axe gave me a death glare, but being friends for almost ten years now, I knew he wasn’t really going to kick my ass. Kip groaned, his chair squeaking as he pushed his body upward. He stood up and walked over to me. I grinned mischievously as he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his wallet.
“How do you always fucking know?” he snarled, slapping a crisp twenty into my hand.
I looked around Kip, making sure that the actual stripper wasn’t listening to us—you know, bad business and all. She was still flirting with Axe even though he was no longer into her, realizing that she did, in fact, work a pole for a living.
“It’s a fuckin’ gift, bro. I just know.”
Kip threw his hands up. “Yeah, but you don’t even fucking go to the strip clubs. What? Do you watch stripper porn at night or something? I don’t get it.”
I barked out another laugh, causing Axe to yell over to us. “Stop fucking around. I’m trying to tattoo over here.”
The stripper laughed again. I rolled my eyes. He could tattoo a fucking crooked penis on her back and she’d still probably suck his dick afterward.
I scoffed, leaning back in my chair again. “I don’t watch stripper porn, jackass. But enough of them come in for a tattoo or piercing that I can recognize them almost immediately.”
I had owned the tattoo shop for a couple of years now. I started it a couple years after graduating college with my art and business degree. I majored in business but minored in art, because right after I graduated from the military school my parents had sent me to (thinking it would straighten me out), I wanted to pursue my artistic talents—whether my parents agreed with it or not. What better way than to open up my own tattoo shop? I hung out at one near the university constantly, and then when they’d offered me a position, I fell in love with it. I loved tattooing and exploring my artistic talents more than anything, so once I got the idea to open my own shop in my hometown, I just went with it.