by Alison Bliss
Bailey knew this was coming. She’d been staring out the truck’s passenger window for the last five minutes, completely mute, while watching the trees blur past. She cut her eyes to him. “You know how it feels when everything in your life seems to be going right?”
He smiled and nodded.
“Yeah, the opposite of that.” Then she went back to staring out the window.
Nash cleared his throat. “You seem a bit grouchy.”
“I wonder why,” she said, sarcastically. “Maybe it has something to do with my new husband being a complete stranger. Or maybe how my entire life shifted just to suit him.”
“Come on, Bailey. You had to give up your apartment. I wasn’t living apart from my pregnant wife.”
“No, it’s not the apartment.” She turned back to look at him. “I’m talking about how you gave all my stuff to the landlord and told him to have a moving sale. You had no right.” She folded her arms across her chest.
“Hey, I told you to go through and point out anything you wanted to keep first. You could’ve taken more than just your clothes and toiletries. That was your decision. There was plenty of room in my truck for more of your belongings. And if you had wanted to keep some of your furniture, all you had to do was say something.”
“You already have furniture and…well, it’s nicer than mine.”
Nash glanced over at her, probably wanting to see if she looked as embarrassed as she sounded. Apparently, she did. “I’ll buy us some brand new furniture,” Nash said. “You can pick it out.”
She sighed. “You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s not a big deal,” he said, shrugging. “Besides, we have to go car shopping next week, anyway. While we’re out, we’ll hit up a few furniture stores.”
“I already told you that I’m not letting you buy me a car…even if you did sell mine to my neighbor for a lousy three hundred dollars.”
“That car was a piece of shit. You were driving around in a ticking time bomb.”
“What are you talking about? That was a good-running car.”
He shook his head. “No, you said it broke down on you three times in the last few weeks.”
“It did. But this week, it was running okay.”
Nash chuckled. “The check engine light was on, the transmission was slipping, and the seats looked like they were mauled by a cougar. If anything, I should’ve paid that guy three hundred dollars to have the damn car crushed. And yes, I am buying you a new one.”
“No. You’re not.” Why does he keep insisting on spending money? I still owe him for the doctor visit. Jeez. “I don’t really have anywhere to go, anyway. I quit my job, remember? Doctor appointments are the only thing I’ll have to go to, and I can call a cab.”
“Like hell!” Nash gripped the steering wheel tighter as he turned onto the caliche-paved driveway. “I’m taking you to all your appointments. I want to be a part of everything having to do with this child, including the doctor visits.”
Bailey blinked, not knowing what to say to that. He wants to be part of everything where the baby’s concerned…but what about me? So, she went back to the original argument. “Well, that only proves my point. I don’t need a car.”
Nash shook his head again, which was his only response. The sun dipped behind the trees as they pulled up the drive and parked in front of the red brick ranch house that Bailey would now call home.
She stepped out, surveying the large plot of land, until her gaze fell on the large wooden corral attached to the barn. Three horses stood in parade fashion at the white fence, heads hanging over the top rail while their ears twisted back and forth.
“Oh, we have horses.”
Nash joined her at the front of the truck. “You didn’t notice them the last time you were here?”
“Of course I did, but I didn’t think I’d ever see…” She bit her lip.
“Go ahead and say it,” he said in a frustrated tone. “If I hadn’t found you when I did, you’d never have come back here, much less told me about the baby.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “Well, it’s true, isn’t it?”
She hesitated, then whispered a soft, “Yes.”
He winced at her honesty. “Then it’s a good thing I found you when I did. And just for the record, it’s not like I asked you to leave. You left that morning before I woke up.” His eyes met hers. “Can I assume that your days of sneaking out on me are over?”
“Without a car, a job, or an apartment, where else would I go?” Oh, great. Now I feel like a stray dog that followed him home, hoping like hell he’ll throw me a bone. She shrugged it off, though, and offered him a cheeky grin. “Guess you’re stuck with me for now.”
“I was hoping you’d say that, but next time leave off the for now.” A slow smile spread on his face. “I told you before, I don’t believe in divorce. I meant it.”
Before she could fully register what he said, her legs were swept out from under her and he lifted her into his arms. Startled by the sudden movement, Bailey latched her limbs around his neck and held on as he carried her into the house. He didn’t put her down until they made it to the living room.
Nash gave her a wink. “Welcome home, darlin’.”
A flash of heat simmered in her body at the term of endearment. But she shook it off. He probably calls every woman that. It doesn’t mean anything. “You didn’t have to carry me over the threshold. I know it’s traditional, but there’s nothing traditional about our…er, arrangement. Besides, I still have to get my suitcases out of the truck.”
“I’ll get them.” He moved toward the door. “Just relax and make yourself at home.”
“Um, Nash…?”
He paused before walking out. “Yeah.”
“Which bedroom is mine?”
“Last door on the right.”
“But…isn’t that your room?” she asked, squinting at him.
A smirk settled on his stoic face, but he didn’t say anything. He just winked and continued his lazy stroll out to the truck. Bailey stood there a second longer, absorbing the evasive response and dissecting the hidden meaning until… Oh. My. God.
He’d walked out so calm. As if he hadn’t just pointed out that he had every intention of honoring his husbandly role. She hadn’t expected to take up residence in his bed the very first night. Christ. Now what do I do?
Okay, in all fairness, Nash had said this wouldn’t be a cardboard-constructed marriage and she’d be his wife in every sense of the word. But so soon? Wouldn’t he want to get to know her better first? Find out what kind of person she was? God, I’m such an idiot! Of course he wouldn’t. This is the same guy who took me home five minutes after meeting me.
And, if she were being honest, she wasn’t any better. It wasn’t like she had put up much of a fight. In fact, when Nash wanted her legs up in the air, she hadn’t hesitated to ask him how high. Because turning down a man like Nash was nearly impossible…virgin or not.
She blew out a hard breath.
The thought of recapturing the intimacy of that first night with Nash—this time as his wife—was enough to send nervous energy zinging under her skin. Not only because she was enthusiastic about getting reacquainted, but mainly because she felt like a complete stranger to her own husband.
But why should that matter? They were complete strangers before and it didn’t seem to bother either of them.
Then it hit her.
The night was based on a one-night-stand and wasn’t supposed to mean anything. A frisky romp in the sack that ended there. No feelings. No further communication. No strings. But, even then, it was never quite that.
This time would be different, the stakes much higher. And that scared the shit out of her. Nash had already proven that, physically, he could destroy her. But this time the destruction would be emotional. No, I can’t let that happen. Especially not with Nash.
He could hurt her so much more than Doug ever had. Even before Nash had shown up on her doorstep that first day, sh
e hadn’t stop thinking about him. She’d felt things with him that she’d never knew existed. Maybe it was because he was the first man she’d ever let get close enough to touch her, to reach inside her and pull out sensations that she’d never felt before. She doubted that her ex—or any other man, for that matter—could’ve made her feel the same way. Doug may have hurt her, but Nash would be the one to shatter her.
Damn it.
If only she could laminate her heart to keep Nash from getting inside; seal the edges to keep the emotions from seeping through. Maybe then, she’d manage to keep her sanity when he threw her out the door on her ass and engaged her in a nasty custody battle. Because that was exactly what she saw happening the moment the baby arrived.
But how do I keep myself on level ground where Nash is concerned? It’s not like I can just avoid him.
Realistically, she couldn’t gracefully bow out of having a sexual relationship with her own husband, could she? Especially when she wanted him to touch her, to make her feel like she had the night he’d wrapped her legs around his waist and ridden her to ecstasy. Something he’d done more than once that evening as she recalled.
Just thinking about it made her thighs involuntarily clench together and her entire body warmed considerably.
Through the open door, she saw Nash making his way back to the house, luggage in hand. It filled her with an enormous amount of unneeded anxiety, so Bailey hurried down the hallway toward his bedroom. She didn’t want to face him until she had herself straightened out and more under control.
Any guilt she felt over retreating to the bedroom was quickly snuffed out by one glaring fact: Nash didn’t love her. It was just sex to him, plain and simple. She was an incubator for his unborn child, that’s all. And no matter what Nash said, Bailey knew that once the baby arrived, all bets were off.
Sooner or later, he would realize the mistake he’d made and opt out of this loveless marriage. See? I’m worrying for nothing. Nash doesn’t look at me as anything more than a piece of ass who’s harboring his offspring.
She opened the bedroom door and gasped.
The room itself was the same as she remembered: dark marine blue walls matching the plush comforter on the king-sized bed, hardwood floors with cherry wood furniture, and a muted grey upholstered chair that sat in front of two large windows framed by the same color drapes. A sophisticated, masculine bedroom with a clash of bold hues and neutral tones.
But that wasn’t why she was taken aback. Nope. It was the random, various things in the room meant to inspire romantic feelings that had her ready to keel over. Dimmed lights. Lit candles. Soft music. And the long-stemmed red rose laying on the bed, attached to a small card by a thin satin ribbon.
She moved closer, lifted it, and read it to herself. Sweetheart, thank you for showing up and giving us a chance to bloom. Together, we will make this work. Your husband.
She wanted to find fault with it. A spelling or punctuation error. Something. Anything. But it was kindest, most thoughtful thing any man had ever done for her, which demonstrated what kind of man she’d married. This is his way of telling me he isn’t playing house and his vows mean something to him. But can I trust that?
A sudden queasiness settled inside her as she became aware of him standing behind her. He was silent, but she sensed him. Like static electricity. She couldn’t see him, but her hair stood on end, giving her a weird sensation that something was touching her. It had to be his eyes. She could almost feel them burning through her like the pinpoint of a laser.
Then he came into view as he crossed the room, his boots clacking lightly on the wooden floor beneath his feet. He stopped in front of the nightstand, opened the drawer, and withdrew an envelope that he laid on the bed in front of her. “I thought you might like to know I got tested shortly after our last encounter. My results came back clean.”
She gasped. “Y-you thought I gave you something—”
“No, of course not,” he said easily. “When I eventually found you, I’d planned to show you that you had nothing to worry about. I always try to be responsible for my actions—sexually or otherwise—so this was my assurance to you that I hadn’t given you anything.”
“Oh.”
“If you don’t mind, I’m going to get out of these dress clothes and slip into something more comfortable,” he said, pulling at his tucked-in shirt. Bailey couldn’t speak past the knot in her throat, so she only nodded, which made Nash grin. “By the way, in case you were wondering, I haven’t been with anyone since that night, either.”
Working from the top down, Nash unbuttoned his pressed white shirt and slid it off his shoulders, revealing impressive abs and firm pectoral muscles. His biceps flexed as he tossed the shirt into the hamper in the corner. When he turned back, her gaze drifted to the small trail of hair leading into the tight jeans that clearly outlined a glorious hard-on.
Bailey bit into her bottom lip. She knew from personal experience that the only thing sexier than Nash without a shirt was Nash without pants. She closed her eyes, avoiding the visual impact of his half-naked form. It was bad enough that she’d never get the image of the fully-nude version of him out of her head. She didn’t need to torture herself more.
“God, I love when you do that.”
Her eyes flicked open. “What?”
“That. What you’re doing right now.”
Inevitably, her fingers had touched her lips, soothing her frazzled nerves. She dropped her hand to her side and forced it to stay there. “I do that when I get—”
“Nervous?”
“I was going to say uncomfortable.”
He unbuttoned his jeans, then paused, his eyes meeting hers briefly. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”
Chapter Sixteen
Nash grinned at the way her cheeks reddened before she could turn away. “No, I… It’s just a bad habit,” she said quickly.
He approached her from behind, his broad shoulders towering over her smaller ones, as his figure blocked the light of the candles on the dresser behind them, creating a shadow over her.
Her perfume filled the air around her. The light, flowery fragrance was a subliminal reminder of their first night. They hadn’t been together since, but he had spent the last six weeks thinking about nothing else. The way his hands had roamed her body, looking for ways to heighten her pleasure with every touch. His mouth had traveled every inch of her skin, tasting and consuming her endlessly. And his fingers… Jesus. The things I’d done to her with my fingers.
Nash moved closer, his hard length pressing into her fully, as his lips brushed her ear lobe. “I looked for you,” he whispered, placing his large hands on her hips and feeling her quiver beneath them. “Every day. For over a month, I searched for your face in every crowd. It drove me nearly crazy until...” He hesitated, breathing out heavily, but slanted his body more firmly into hers.
She leaned back against him, allowing the warmth of his body to leach into hers. “Until what?” she asked softly, her breath hitching.
“I gave up, Bailey. I figured I wasn’t ever going to find you, so I stopped looking and went to Rowdy’s. It was the first time I’d been back there since the night we met. I was going to plow myself with enough alcohol to make me forget all about you. I needed to get you out of my head. But halfway through my second beer, the waitress saw me and asked me about my lady friend…the one who’d stormed out and left her credit card behind. That’s why it took me so long to find you. But just when I’d given up, it was like fate stepped in and intervened on our behalf.”
“W-why are you telling me this?”
His tone became more serious. “Because I want you to know what you’re getting yourself into. I’m not stupid, Bailey,” he said, anger lacing his words. “I can feel the gears grinding in your head, trying to figure out a way to keep me at a safe distance. I won’t let you do it. Not when I know we’re meant to be. I didn’t go through all of this for nothing.”
“Nash, I…” She tried to turn
around to face him, but his hands on her waist tightened their grip, stilling her motion.
“If you give yourself to me now, I get all of you. There’s no going back. I mean it.”
He released her, walked past the bed, and plopped down in the upholstered chair to remove his boots. She winced as he chucked the first one on the floor. He hadn’t meant to get angry, but he had no doubt what he said was true. She was planning on holding back and not allowing herself to become attached. He saw the fear of it in her eyes and the way she tensed under his hands.
But what he was offering her wasn’t a sexual arrangement. He expected an emotional connection to his wife as much as a physical one, but that was just a symbol of what he was truly asking of her. In actuality, he wanted the one thing she probably would refuse to give him.
Trust.
He imagined just the thought of putting her faith in another man left her mouth dry and her head spinning with insecurities. Could she conquer her fears and let go of the doubts she had about this marriage? Would that be enough for them to make it work? Or would he only be setting himself up for heartbreak when she ran out on him?
Again.
Nash leaned back in the chair, watching her intensely. He made it clear he was waiting for a response. He wanted to exude confidence and warmth, but knew the determination he planted on his face would force her to make a decision. Because he wasn’t making a move until he received an answer to his unasked question: Will you allow me to earn your trust?
There was a vulnerability in her eyes he’d never seen before. She was scared to death and examining her options. Not that he’d left her many. It was their wedding night, and he needed to know if she was willing to give this marriage a shot. A real one.
Years of being in a courtroom had taught him persuasion, but he wanted her to make this decision on her own. She needed to decide for herself if she was willing to take a chance on him, on them. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t offer her a helping hand.
He held out his palm. “Well?”
Bailey hesitated, but then accepted it. When he pulled her into his lap, she gave him a half-hearted smile. “Don’t hurt me,” she whispered.