Cowboy SEAL Daddy

by Laura Marie Altom

  She’d opted to wear her hair down in spiraling curls held back with an elegant crystal clip. Jules let Paisley borrow her wedding pearls. Her garter was blue, her dress was vintage—a nicer word for something old—and her something new was the pearl bracelet Monica had given her before lunch.

  “Ready?” Monica asked.

  Paisley nodded. “I really am. Never in a million years would I have predicted how this would all turn out.”

  “You deserve to be happy, Paise. You and your baby boy.”

  “Aw, you, too.” Laughing, crying, they exchanged hugs as the wedding planner shooed them down the aisle.

  The Brustanovitch family barn had been constructed during the gold rush of 1863 and lovingly restored through the years, but today, with the rafters festooned with thousands of white roses and ivy, with Ball jar candles hanging at intermittent heights in between, it looked like she and Monica were stepping into a fairy tale. The smell was equally as sweet as the anticipation fluttering in Paisley’s stomach.

  A hundred guests, who had been sitting on white-blanket-covered hay bales, now stood when a trio of mandolins played the “Wedding March.”

  “Smile!” the wedding planner coached from behind them.

  Paisley didn’t need encouraging. Her cheeks hurt from the size of her grin.

  The walk down the aisle took ages, but upon reaching the flower-adorned gazebo Monica’s planner had a crew construct for them to use as an altar, Paisley had eyes only for Wayne. Never had she seen him look more handsome in his crisp white shirt and sports coat. Jeans that hugged his powerful thighs, along with his sexy black cowboy boots and hat.

  Had there ever been a luckier bride?

  Upon reaching the altar, Monica’s dad, Conrad, escorted them both up the low stairs to present them to their grooms, then formally gave them to the new men in their lives. Conrad’s kindness might seem like a small thing to some, but to Paisley, having grown up with no father, it meant the world.

  Finally, she stood next to Wayne.

  He towered over her, performing the impossible and making her feel petite and protected and cherished.

  While the pastor said something to Logan and Monica, Wayne leaned close, whispering, “Surprise, gorgeous. This is the real deal.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Our vows, the ceremony, it’s all real. My team pulled off the impossible by getting us a legit Arizona license.”

  “What about my signature?”

  “I’ve got a guy for that. Best damned forger in the navy.” Wayne winked.

  Paisley’s mind was spinning. Her pulse racing. What? Hadn’t they agreed to be done with lies? She thought they’d have a legal ceremony back in San Diego.

  “Did you hear me, babe?” While Logan and Monica took solemn oaths to love and protect each other for the rest of their lives, Wayne was still boasting about what a stellar job his friend had done with the forged document. “We pulled it off. Isn’t this great? Exactly what you wanted.”

  No. No, this was nothing like she wanted. She wanted a simple “I love you.” Not yet another fake anything. She wanted to make Jules and Peter proud of her. She wanted to be the kind of wife and mother who could be proud of herself.

  A guest on the front row could be heard softly crying. The woman in the lavender suit blotted a tissue to her eyes, making her unrecognizable until she lowered it. And smiled. Moving just her fingers in a tight wave.

  No, no, no... A sharp ringing blocked the pastor’s voice from reaching Paisley’s ears. This isn’t possible. I’m hallucinating.

  “Babe?” She saw Wayne’s lips move, but couldn’t be sure what he’d said.

  Why wouldn’t the room stop spinning?

  Paisley didn’t have time to ponder the question when her every instinct told her to run.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Paise? Babe, what’s the matter?” As soon as he’d spotted her unsteady stance and out-of-focus gaze, Wayne knew she was in trouble. He’d seen enough guys faint from heat stroke to recognize the signs. But then she hadn’t gone down as expected, but taken off, running as fast as a seriously pregnant woman could away from him and their shocked guests.

  Attendees at first shared a near-collective gasp, and then chaos ruled when Wayne also charged down the wrong end of the aisle.

  “What the hell?” he asked after chasing his bride damn near to the house. He grabbed her upper arm, tugging her around to face him.

  “I—I can’t do this.” She shook her head, then scanned the crowd emerging from the barn. “I’m sorry. I thought I could, but then I—I saw my mom and panicked.”

  “What the hell does your mom have to do with leaving me at the altar? I feel like an idiot, Paise. How could you do this in front of not only all my friends, but Mom and Dad. Our whole reason for marrying was for him.”

  “Exactly. Our wedding should be about us. But it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry I hurt you, but what’s done is done. I can’t take it back, and— Great...”

  Wayne followed Paisley’s stare.

  A woman approached. She was petite with stylish red hair the same shade as Paisley’s and a light purple dress that matched her purse and shoes.

  Upon seeing her, Paisley shook her head, calling, “Go away! You shouldn’t be here.”

  “I am here.”

  “I don’t want you to be,” Paisley whispered.

  “Tough.” Arms crossed, the woman Wayne assumed was Paisley’s mother showed no sign of budging.

  But then Monica joined the party. Followed by Logan and Wayne’s parents and more people he didn’t want to see. Hadn’t he already been humiliated enough? Did they need an up close and personal view of his pain? Make no mistake—he was hurting. It wasn’t until Paisley ran out on him that he’d realized just how much he needed her.

  “What’s wrong?” Monica brushed Wayne aside, feeling Paisley’s forehead. “You might have a fever. I know this look. Were you afraid of tossing your cookies in the middle of our vows? Is that why you left?”

  Paisley nodded.

  Wayne wanted to call her out on the lie, but her friend’s version of events was far more palatable than reality.

  “Poor thing.” Jules rubbed Paisley’s back. “Let’s get you inside and resting.”

  “Thank you,” Paisley said, “but please don’t fuss. I’m fine. All I want is for Monica and Logan to finish their vows. Please don’t let me ruin your special day.”

  “Sweetie,” Monica said, “this is our special day. I love you. I want us all to take our vows together.”

  “I know.” Paisley wrapped her friend in a hug, whispering for only her to hear, “Please go get married. This is complicated.”

  “But...” Monica pulled back to wipe Paisley’s tears with the embroidered wedding hanky her father had given her. “Okay. You take care of you. I’ll cover.”

  “Thanks. I’m so sorry. And seriously, please squeeze every ounce of joy from the rest of your day.”

  Now Monica had also grown teary, but she nodded.

  “Come on, everyone!” She began wrangling guests back to the barn to witness her and Logan’s ceremony. “Sadly, my fellow bride is suffering from round-the-clock morning sickness, so while she rests up for the reception, I’ve got a man to lasso.”

  Laughter at least lightened the mood for their guests, but Paisley felt anger radiating from Wayne as he led her from the yard to her guest room.

  Unfortunately, Jules followed.

  Thankfully, Paisley’s mother had not.

  “Just as soon as you feel able,” Jules said, fussing with getting Paisley into bed, then taking off her shoes and adjusting pillows behind her head, “I’ll have the pastor come up here. You two should be official in no time.”

  “Thank you, Jules. But I’m sorry. For Wayne and me, there isn’t going to be a wedding.” Sh
e wiped fresh tears, hating the hormonal rush keeping her in a perpetually teary condition. “I thought I could keep up this lie, but I can’t. Not anymore.”

  Jules said, “Honey, you’re exhausted. I’m sure you’ll feel differently come morning. I’m not sure what you mean about lying, but I refuse to accept the fact that you don’t love my son.”

  “O-of course, I do.” Paisley covered her nose with Monica’s handkerchief. “But I don’t think my love is enough.”

  “This is BS.” Wayne slapped the palm of his hand against the nearest wall. “Mom, please leave us alone.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Jules looked from her son to Paisley. “You two might need a referee. At the very least, a voice of reason.”

  “Please,” Paisley said. “It probably is best if we’re alone.”

  “For the record, I disagree.” Jules kissed and hugged them both before leaving, closing the door behind her.

  Alone with Wayne, the walls closed around her, making the room feel perilously small. Where had all the oxygen gone?

  “Don’t do this.” Wayne raked his hands through his hair. “Don’t you dare do this when we’ve come so far.”

  “Have we? Really? What’s wrong with you? Bragging about having forged my name on a marriage license when you should have been focused mind, body and soul on vows we were making to each other for the rest of our lives. Instead, you were thrilled about having duped not only your parents, but the system.”

  “Don’t you dare pin this all on me. I was psyched because having the official document meant we would be legally man and wife. I thought that’s what you wanted? Hell—back in San Diego, you were the one who first suggested using a fake license to get through today’s ceremony.”

  “That was back when we thought your dad was dying. But now we know he’s not, and that changes everything. You don’t know what I truly want, Wayne. You never did. But you’re right. I’m just as much at fault for ever agreeing to all this scheming in the first place. From day one, it was wrong and deep down, I think we both knew it.”

  “Bullshit.” He sat beside her, taking her hand, stroking it as if she were a doll or beloved pet. “What difference does it make how we got together? All that matters is that we are together. Period. End of story.”

  “This—today—was supposed to have been our beginning.”

  “Swear to God, Paisley, if you say this is the end, you might as well be dead to me. I’m not playing games.” He dropped her hand as if she’d burned him.

  “You think this is a game to me? I feel so serious in my convictions that a marriage should be based upon love and not lies, that seeing my lying, ex-convict of a mother nearly caused me to black out. Trust me, no one realizes more than me what’s at stake.”

  “Let’s talk about your mom. What was she doing here?”

  “I don’t have a clue. Monica’s constantly posting her location on Instagram. Could be my mother follows the store, follows Monica and me, and decided now was the perfect time for a family reunion. She calls all the time. Maybe she thought this was a foolproof way to make me see her.”

  “Why wouldn’t you see her? She’s your mom—not a monster.”

  “Maybe to me, she’s my only monster? When I saw her, it reminded me how much of her life—her relationship with men—had been based on lies. Knowing that, I couldn’t stand there in front of God and your parents doing the same thing.”

  “That’s freakin’ great.” He raised his hands, only to slap them against his thighs. “I’m now being judged based on the sins of a woman I’ve never met. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “It’s more complicated than that. You could never understand.” For the last time, she removed her engagement ring and handed it to him.

  “You’re right, Paise.” He squeezed his hand holding the ring into a tight fist. “I can’t understand how you claim to love me, yet keep dicking me around. Even Chelsea wasn’t this cruel. When it was over, she cut me off cold. One day she was with me, the next she wasn’t. But you’re all over the map.”

  “You think you’re not? You’re the king of mixed messages. But it doesn’t matter. None of this crap matters because we’re not getting married—ever. We let one lone night of great sex and the romance of what Monica and Logan share go to our heads. We wanted to make your father happy, but did we ever once stop to consider what makes us happy?”

  “You.” Wayne didn’t bother hiding his tears. “You and your baby were what made me happy. Now? Congrats. You get your way, Paise. I no longer give a shit.” He stormed away, but then turned back for one, last scathing look. “For the record, you promised you’d never leave me. That you’d always be with me. You weren’t the type of girl who leaves her friends when they need her. Ha. Way to go on making good on all of your perfectly empty words.”

  When Wayne left the room, closing the door behind him, only then did Paisley allow herself to break down. Damn her mother. Of all days, why had she chosen now to reinsert herself into her daughter’s life?

  Don’t do that, her conscience warned.

  Don’t blame your mom for your own fears and insecurities. The real problem here is you. Your inability to love yourself has rendered you incapable of fully loving anyone else.

  If she did love Wayne with all her heart, one more little white lie between them would have been no big deal. It would have been something to laugh about over dinner parties when they’d grown old.

  But from a young impressionable age, no matter how desperately Paisley had wanted her fairy-tale ending, she’d been taught by the master that for women like her, fairy tales never came true.

  * * *

  BECAUSE SHE WAS too emotionally and physically exhausted to make the long return trek to San Diego that evening, Paisley accepted Jules and Peter’s kind offer to stay the night. In the morning, Conrad offered to fly her home in his jet, and she’d accepted.

  You’re dead to me.

  Wayne’s words had been unspeakably cruel. He’d crossed a line from which they could never come back. She knew him well enough to understand that had been his pain talking and not him. But years from now, when he found the right woman, he’d be grateful to Paisley for letting him go.

  He didn’t love her. He felt obligated to her.

  He had enough of his father’s Russian pride to never allow himself to back down from a challenge. That’s all she’d been.

  Judging by the confusion raging in her own heart, her feelings for him couldn’t have amounted to much more.

  By morning, the gloomy weather outside her room’s picture window reflected her mood. Paisley showered and dressed in maternity jeans and a pale pink sweater, struggling with her socks and sneakers. She left her boots and cowboy hat in the guest room’s closet. It would hurt too much to have them staring at her back in San Diego.

  She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, opted to skip makeup, then set off in search of the people she’d hurt.

  Hoping to find Jules in the kitchen, Paisley was surprised to see Peter instead. He hummed a nonsensical tune while loading the tray Jules had used the past two days to bring her breakfast in bed.

  “Good morning,” Paisley said.

  Peter clamped his hand to his chest. “You gave me start.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No. Is good. We need talk. I want you marry my boy, yes?”

  With her perpetual waterworks threatening to fall, Paisley shook her head.

  “But baby need daddy.” He took the liberty of patting her bump. She didn’t mind. If anything, it came as a relief to learn Wayne’s parents were still speaking to her. “Our grandson need his father.”

  “Remember, hon?” Jules entered the kitchen behind Paisley. “Wayne talked to us about this. Paisley’s baby isn’t his biological son.”

  “Eh...” Peter waved off her words. “Make no d
ifference to me. Baby is baby. We love it the same.”

  “When did Wayne tell you the truth?” Paisley asked, hugging herself.

  “Yesterday. Before the wedding. Peter confessed, as well. I’m beyond relieved that he’ll be okay, but furious with him for keeping his cancer from me. All that aside, if that’s why you broke things off—because of all these secrets and lies—Paisley, we don’t think less of you or in any way hold you responsible. That said, what you and Wayne share is real. You can’t deny having strong affection for my son.”

  Paisley bowed her head.

  “If you tell me you feel nothing for him, I’ll back off, but until then, Peter and I still choose you to be our daughter-in-law.”

  “You guys...” Paisley drew them both into a group hug. “You are both so dear. More than anything, I wish things could be different.”

  “Then make them different,” Jules said. “Wayne tried explaining what little he knew about your past. For what it’s worth, your mother introduced herself to us last night, then peaceably left. She seemed lovely.”

  It’s an act. She’s poison inside. Just like me.

  Paisley shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this. Where’s Wayne? I need to say goodbye.”

  “Oh, honey, you didn’t hear?”

  “Apparently not.” What now? What else could possibly happen to make this situation worse?

  “Wayne and his entire team were called out on an emergency deployment. They weren’t supposed to have left till next week, but I guess the matter escalated and they had to go early. We said our goodbyes at 4:00 a.m. Monica was so upset.”

  “Oh no...” Paisley’s knees threatened to buckle. She grabbed hold of the granite counter’s edge for support.