by Nell Dixon
Rubbing her arms to stave off more than just the chill in the air, she rose. Her concerns were coming a little late, but they still mattered. At some point, she'd have to address them. This weekend, however, was the calm before the storm, and the upcoming stresses were what she really needed to focus on.
Christmas break had officially started. Come Monday, she and Kyle would be hostages in the Marshall mansion, forced to endure whatever Rick's mother, had in store for them.
***
Rick threw Caylie's suitcase in the trunk, ignoring the protest of his driver. If Caylie caught Dan putting her things in the car, he'd never hear the end of it. For a second he focused on his luggage. Heaviness settled in the pit of his stomach.
For weeks his mother had been pressuring him to at least show Caylie the prenuptial agreement the lawyers had drawn up. Considering Caylie's resistance to everything money, he knew in his gut the marital contract wouldn't go over too well. In his family, in his wealthy station, they were a fact of life.
Kyle leaned against the car, his thumbs moving at the speed of light over a tiny compact keyboard. He snickered at something. Caylie bounded the stairs, wrapping a bright red scarf around her neck. She cast Dan a smile and then looked to Rick, stopping at the door. With brows risen, she waited.
Laughing, Rick shook his head and opened the car door for her. "My lady," he intoned, sweeping his hand inside the car.
The jeans she wore tightened over her derriere as she climbed into the back of limo. Rick ground his teeth and looked to the cloud-covered sky. While he'd expected the weekend getaway would be a family affair, the frustration of a lost chance for a liaison with his fiancée was still present. The weeks were counting down though. There was an unexpected level of satisfaction at knowing when he and Caylie were together for the first time, she'd be his wife.
Rick stepped in after her, laughing at her legs draped over the entire seat. Picking up her booted feet, he slid onto the seat. He snagged a kiss before the car jostled at Kyle's entrance on the other side. Not wanting another dramatic moment brought on by a public display of affection, Rick straightened.
Kyle settled onto the seat across from them. Caylie kept her legs across Rick's lap, ignoring her brother’s disapproving glare.
"So how far away is this lake?" Kyle asked, his attention back on the phone screen.
"Just over two hours. I brought some movies. We'll lose cell service about a half hour outside of town."
Kyle's head snapped up, eye's wide. "And at the lake?"
"I think it's limited, never paid much attention. It is a getaway, you know."
Attention back on the screen, Kyle snorted. "Try a prison."
"Kyle," Caylie implored, begging with just his name for him to behave.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He waved his hand, still staring at the screen. "Thanks."
"I'm sorry," she whispered with a look of apology.
"Don't be. He's only with us to make sure we behave ourselves." Rick pushed a booted foot into Kyle's shin. "Isn't that right?"
The only answer Kyle gave was a quick glance to show the rolling of his eyes. Rick cracked a smile. The weekend would bring some much needed time alone for the three of them. In the coming week more and more people would pour into the Marshall household, taking away any semblance of privacy and order. While the quiet weekend was the perfect time to spring the prenup on Caylie, he selfishly realized he wanted this one last moment of normalcy.
He didn't believe for one second she'd go for the contract, and he wasn't sure yet what he was going to do. Without her signature, his family— and his lawyers— would never allow them marry. They didn’t trust anyone, even the woman he loved, to stay away from his money and that of his company.
Astraea Press
Pure. Fiction.
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