The Masquerading Groom: Bachelor Billionaire Romance

by Taylor Hart

  She hadn’t just been going for shock value. True, it was an accident not a murder, but it was horrible nonetheless.

  Thoughts of the awfulness surrounded him as Hunter’s noisy diesel truck rumbled up. Sterling checked his phone and realized it was almost seven o’clock.

  Henry was sitting in the passenger seat, a scowl on his face.

  Hunter jumped out and gave Sterling a look that said, ‘you so owe me.’ He rushed to the other side and tried to help Henry out of the vehicle, but he just got a shove for his efforts.

  Henry had a black boot on one ankle and crutches under his arms. His scowl deepened. “I just sprained it, so don’t think I couldn’t have managed. Do you know how many tours in Afghanistan I served? I think I can handle it.”

  Sterling watched him move up the stairs of the cabin. “No, sir.” He reached out to help with the crutches or something.

  Henry swung a crutch at him. “I can do it myself.” He made his way to a porch chair and plopped himself down

  Hunter looked forlorn. “Those have been the only words out of the man’s mouth since I picked him up and discharged him.” Hunter turned back for the truck. “I got your groceries.”

  Unsure of what to do, Sterling followed Hunter, who gave him four bags of groceries before pulling more bags out.

  Sterling went to the cabin and held the screen door open. There was no A/C in the cabin, but it wasn’t that hot. He’d left the door open because it was cooler outside than inside. He held the door for Hunter. “Thanks, dude.”

  Hunter grunted and put the groceries down on the table. He frowned, but didn’t go back to the door. “You know what you’re doing?” His voice was quiet. He looked to the porch where Henry was sitting.

  Sterling gave him a half smile then lifted and lowered his shoulders. “No idea.”

  Hunter hesitated. “You want me to stay?”

  Sterling could tell that was the last thing Hunter wanted. He shook his head. “Yeah, ’cause your strength is making nice with people.”

  Hunter let out a derisive laugh. “Yeah.” He flashed a grin. “So is she it?”

  “What?”

  “The one who will make you a groom?”

  “Shut it.” Sterling started putting away the groceries.

  Hunter grinned.

  “How’s Summer feeling today? Any better?”

  A wide grin passed over Hunter’s face. “Pregnant. It’s too soon to know for sure, so we’re not telling people yet.”

  Happiness surged inside of Sterling. “What?” He turned to Hunter. “That’s great.”

  Hunter grinned like a Cheshire cat. “The boy knows, and he’s happy.”

  Sterling thought about Josh and how a new baby would cement them into even more of a family. He grinned. “Well get home and take care of her.”

  Hunter hesitated then went back onto the porch. He stopped and glanced back. “Nice to meet you, Sarge.”

  Henry grunted. “Never wanted to meet you.”

  From the doorway, Sterling watched Hunter go and gave his friend an apologetic glance.

  Hunter laughed and climbed into his truck.

  Sterling glanced at Henry. He’d pulled over the other porch chair and propped his foot. “Is there anything you need, Sir?” It wasn’t characteristic of him to call people that, but Henry’s presence kind of elicited that type of respect.

  Henry looked at him. “How is she?”

  His mouth was dry. He rested his hands on the chair back. “She’s sleeping.” He frowned. “I know she had some fibroids removed. I read the paperwork.” Why hide it? They were both kind of in it.

  Henry didn’t comment, just held his eyes. Then, with every bit of sergeant in him, he said, “I’ll stay here and take care of her.” He looked away. “Thanks for stocking up her kitchen, but she eats like a bird. I was already planning to bring some supplies over and get some meat on her bones.”

  Sterling realized this grouchy sergeant really cared about her. He was willing to stay with her injured ankle and all. Sterling shook his head.

  “No. You’re in no shape to take care of her. Where do you live? Let’s get you home, and I’ll get dinner started for both of you.”

  Henry didn’t look at him for a beat, then pulled off his fishing hat and rubbed sweat from his forehead, meeting Sterling’s eyes. “Why are you doing this? Some publicity stunt or something? Is this about some movie?”

  Sterling smiled, thinking of how Caleb was going to ream him for even getting involved in all of this. “Uh, no.”

  “Then why?” Henry challenged.

  “Because I like her.” As soon as he said the words, he realized how true they were. He really meant them. It felt good to mean them.

  Henry grunted and then stood, reaching for his just-out-of-range crutches. “She’s not your type.”

  Sterling got the crutches for him, but didn’t respond.

  Henry pushed himself up with the crutches and moved to the steps. “I’m down the street three cabins on the right. I’ll leave the truck in case you need to take her somewhere.”

  Chapter 8

  Sayla woke up with a start. Pain reared its ugly head, slashing through the lower part of her gut in knifelike fashion.

  The room was dark. She moaned, trying to remember how she’d even gotten home and into her bed.

  “It’s okay.”

  It was him.

  She opened her eyes, and it all came back to her. Henry falling. Sterling taking her home, putting her into bed. His cool hand on her forehead. She heard the sound of a pill bottle and saw the outline of him opening her pills.

  He pushed a glass of water at her and held out a pill.

  “Take this.”

  The pain surged as she tried to sit up, and she couldn’t help but gasp.

  “Take it, and then we’ll give you some bread. You can’t take it on an empty stomach.”

  She obeyed, wanting to ask a million questions, but unable to focus on anything but the raging pain. She gulped back the pill, then took the bread and did as she was told.

  Sterling sat, and she noticed it was one of the rockers from the porch. He put the water down on the bedside table. “I got Henry settled. He sprained his ankle.”

  Sayla sighed.

  “Grouchy old cuss, he wanted to stay here, but I told him I would.” He hesitated. “I hope that’s okay.”

  It wasn’t really a question.

  He held out the water to her. She took it and washed down the bread.

  He took the water out of her trembling hand.

  Realizing how weak she was, she was grateful. And shaky. She couldn’t quite comprehend how he’d gotten here or why he was staying. Her mind was fuzzy and the pain was overwhelming. She focused on chewing and took the water glass when he offered it.

  After finishing the bread, she leaned back, her hand reflexively going to her stomach. Then she remembered what the doctor had told her. Maybe children, maybe not. Tears welled in her eyes. She shut them, hating that she was sitting here with this man she hardly knew, didn’t want to know, but obviously needed.

  “Sayla?”

  She felt his hand lightly on her shoulder, and then her bedside light clicked on.

  “Are you okay?”

  Without wanting them to fall, the tears splashed down her cheeks She was too weak and vulnerable and stupid to do anything about it. More of them followed. She had no inhibitions at the moment. Everything had been stripped from her with the surgery that had just gutted her. She turned her head away from Sterling. “I could never give him children. I was a failure.”

  Snot followed the tears. Putting her hand to her nose, she hated this moment.

  Sterling got up and she heard him go into the bathroom. When he came back, he didn’t ask, just tenderly mopped her face and dabbed at her nose.

  She took the toilet paper out of his hand. “Stop it,” she said in a twisted groan.

  He sat back in the rocker.

  She had the weirdest thought. �
��Now you get to see me without any of my masks.”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  “Shut up.” She was angry and felt like a cornered cat. There was nowhere to go. She wanted to strike out, but she couldn’t even do that.

  “Sayla, it’s okay.”

  She turned to look at him and saw him rumpled and in a shorts and t-shirt. So not movie-like. She found herself laughing, thinking how ridiculous this all was. Surreal, like a real-life movie, but the laughing caused pain.

  “Oh.” She cried out, wanting to hold her stomach, stopped from making contact by the bandages.

  “Be careful.” His hand was on her shoulder again. “Shh. It’s okay, Sayla. It’s going to be fine.” His hand was on her forehead. “Shh.”

  She didn’t know why, but he did soothe her. She knew the pain meds were kicking in because suddenly she was relaxing, and all she could focus on was his hand stroking her hairline.

  “Go back to sleep, Sayla. Get some rest. Shh. It’s okay.”

  “Please just go.” She heard herself mutter. Then it was all black.

  The next time she woke, she felt the light against her closed eyelids. She didn’t open them. Just felt the ache in the pit of her stomach and held off against what she knew would be more pain.

  But she had a problem. Well, the truth was that she had a lot of problems, none as big as the famous movie star in her cabin acting as nursemaid. She could hear him breathing next to her in the chair. Late in the night, she’d woken for a few minutes and heard snoring. Then in her medicated haze she’d fallen back to sleep. He wasn’t snoring anymore, his breathing was less heavy. It unnerved her he was here.

  How had he even known about the surgery? He’d just been there. Helping Henry, getting him into the hospital. Then getting into the truck, driving her home, carrying her in. Staying next to her all night.

  Now, she had to pee.

  Badly.

  It was the kind that couldn’t be held any longer.

  She opened her eyes and couldn’t help the groan that came out of her. The pain was knifelike again.

  Sterling’s eyes flashed open. His body jerked to a standing position. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  The amazing thing was, even though she was still in a huge amount of pain and she was feeling a major headache from the high dose of pain meds, her mind was clear. Wow, the man looked good. His dark hair was shaved on the sides, and his piercing blue eyes were focused on her. His broad shoulders and the way she could see his arm muscles, even just half way down his bicep, put her on edge. It would be a boldfaced lie to say she hadn’t enjoyed the kiss the other night.

  It’s why she’d slapped him.

  More than anything she hadn’t wanted to be attracted to the movie star with the too-perfect teeth and the annoyingly good smell and the connection they’d had.

  “Pee.” It came out oh so eloquently. She imagined that Sterling, the Senator’s son and movie star type, didn’t talk about things like pee. Or any such uncultured topics for that matter.

  His eyes widened, and he put his hands out like he was about to receive some kind of pass. “What can I do?”

  Pushing the covers off, she winced in pain. Every part of her chest and stomach and even arm muscles seemed to hurt. “I need help getting up.”

  He took her hand and gently tried to help her leverage her weight against him as she stood. She slid her legs off the bed, and that caused pain in her gut. It felt like every part of her was connected to the place on her body she’d been cut open.

  Eventually she got her feet planted and leaned on him as she stood.

  More pain. How did it continue to stab so sharply?

  “It feels like I’m going to split open again,” she said as she put her hand on the bandages over her lower stomach. Leaning on him, she shuffled toward the bathroom, completely embarrassed.

  He paused. “Do you want me to just carry you?”

  She was already shaking her head. She did not want to be helpless, this much she knew. “No.” She spoke hoarsely and out of breath.

  So they maintained their shuffle to the bathroom. When they reached the toilet, he hesitated.

  He looked vulnerable and out of sorts, just as she felt. “Can you do handle it from here?”

  “It’s actually easier for us girls if we sit down first.”

  Sterling blushed deeply. “Oh, I didn’t mean …” He saw the smirk on her face and said, “Very funny. So, you’re okay?”

  She grunted. “Yes, thank you.” As she said the words, she realized it was the first time she had thanked him.

  He held her eyes, and for a stupid moment—unreal because who has some type of connection in a bathroom—he grinned. “You’re welcome.”

  He backed out and shut the door.

  When Sayla finished, she pulled herself up to her feet and washed her hands, thinking about the past twenty-four hours. Even though her body was still in pain, it had decreased since she’d first gotten out of bed. She looked in the mirror at her matted, sweaty hair, but she didn’t have the energy to do anything about it.

  Then she froze. This is what he’d seen.

  This is what he’d been seeing since he’d brought her home.

  The night she’d gone out with him she’d had protection.

  Now she had nothing. Worse than nothing.

  “The truth.” She muttered. Hard, cold, ugly truth.

  She longed for a shower, but the doctor had told her only sponge baths for seventy-two hours. At that point, the Steri Strips over the glue on the three incisions would be okay to come off on their own.

  Pulling her shorts down a bit, she investigated the puffy parts of her stomach with the bandages. Not bad. She’d researched it all on the Internet before. She’d even watched the surgery. Most women reported not needing the whole seven to ten days estimated recovery time. Of course, up until this moment, she’d planned on only needing a day or two of recovery time before going back to the store. Now it seemed ridiculously optimistic.

  As she shuffled to the bathroom door and pulled it open, the stabbing pain resurged, and she wondered how long it would take to go away. Her left side hurt more than the others, which made sense with the scraping the doctor said he’d had to do there.

  Sterling was waiting for her just outside the door.

  Avoiding his gaze, she looked away. Unable to bear knowing he was seeing her like this.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What?” She didn’t move.

  “Why aren’t you looking at me?”

  Neither of them spoke for what felt like eternity.

  “Sayla?” He reached for her hand, but she batted him away.

  “You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t see me like this.” She tried to stalk toward the bedroom, but only got one step in before pain ripped into her gut.

  Immediately, his arms were around her shoulder. “Here, let’s get you back into bed. I have some soup and some toast and orange juice on a tray for you.”

  Without wanting to, she took his hand and slowly moved toward her bed. “You have to tell me why you’re here. How did you even know? And how is Henry?” She made a mental note to yell at Henry for letting Sterling take over her care.

  It took some work, but he got her settled with a pillow propped behind her. Then he put a cookie sheet on her legs with the food. “Is that okay?”

  She continued to be baffled by his concern. “Talk.”

  “I couldn’t stop myself. I … all I could think about was our kiss. I had to find you.”

  Her face was guarded.

  “When you wouldn’t take the stupid mask off, I realized how symbolic the mask was for me.”

  She hesitated. “You are making no sense.”

  “I’m an actor. All I wear are masks. But you wear a mask too.” He sighed. “Maybe it just resonated with me. I also liked how you could see through mine.”

  Her heart felt like it would pound out of her chest. He saw her too, and he liked her. She f
elt her eyes fluttering and knew it was a nervous twitch.

  He pointed to the pill by the orange juice. “Take the pain pill. It says you can take one every four to six hours, and it’s right at six hours.” He smiled. “You slept for a good stretch.”

  Inelegantly, she put the pill in her mouth and drank the juice. Bitter memories from her childhood made it hard to swallow.

  “What?” Sterling asked.

  When she looked up, she saw the center of his brow creased, a stern look on his face, and his arms crossed. “Why did you look at me that way?”

  Taking a bite of toast, she commanded herself to relax. The orange juice helped almost instantly to give her a little energy and clear her head. It wouldn’t last long since she’d just taken another pain med, but decided to tell the truth. “When I was twelve, my foster mom would force me to take pills for ADHD because I ran through her house. It just reminded me.”

  His stance relaxed, and he unfolded his arms. “Oh.” He didn’t look as ticked. Sitting down on the rocking chair, he asked, “So you were in foster care your whole life?”

  It wasn’t something she liked talking about with people, but this entire thing with him was complicated. He’d just helped her pee for heaven’s sake. “Yes. I don’t know who my parents were. I loved the movie Annie, and thought I might have a daddy Warbucks until I was fifteen.” She let out a sarcastic laugh. “That’s when I realized no one was coming for me.” She was nervous, and couldn’t stop talking. “Then I loved Anne of Green Gables because she was an orphan but nice people took her in.” She focused on the food, but for some reason, she felt the need to get it all out. “I dropped out of high school. Ran away. Lived on the streets. When I was seventeen, I got beat up so badly the doctors in the hospital called DHS. The state helped me get emancipated because I told the social worker I would just run. Unexpectedly, I didn’t have to run anymore. I even got a job waitressing.”

  “Okay.” He seemed to be taking it in slowly. “That’s where you met Rob.”

  She frowned. “Why are we talking about my husband?”

  He seemed to freeze. “Why not?”

  “Because it’s weird.”

  “Why?”