Her Accidental Husband

by Mallory, Ashlee

  Payton nodded, knowing her friend couldn’t see the gesture but would understand.

  “So how are things with you and my future brother-in-law? Stuck in a car together? I can’t believe you haven’t killed each other yet. Not after the way you two hit it off at my birthday party.”

  The sarcasm was clear since the only way she and Cruz hit it off that night was in that they both agreed they couldn’t stand the other. Probably starting when she overheard Cruz asking his brother in a derisive tone if “the prom queen” had arrived or if she’d gotten lost and needed a rescue crew. She’d been standing right behind him, Kate’s yellow roses in her arms. The jibe was even more biting when he turned around for an awkward introduction and the seconds passed infinitely slowly as they recognized each other from the flower shop. When, for a fleeting moment, she had thought him charming.

  “Accidentally” slamming the vase against the side of his temple had made her feel a little better. It had also given her perverse satisfaction to torment Cruz through the night with quips about his height, his appetite, whatever she could think of that would get a rise from the brooding hulk. To be fair, most people usually laughed and deflected her comments, but Cruz only grew moodier, barely grunting a response. The thought of seeing him again at the wedding had not been something she looked forward to, but she’d thought Brad would be at her side to help ease her pain.

  That plan hadn’t worked out so well.

  “Cruz and I have reached a sort of tentative treaty. We’re focusing on getting to Puerto Vallarta for now.” True enough, even if they had a rocky start initially. But she had to give him credit. If it weren’t for him, she’d still be in Laredo waiting to catch a morning flight back to Dallas and praying she’d find a seat on a plane—any plane—heading into Puerto Vallarta. She would never have dared to make this kind of trip on her own.

  She could hear a male voice on the other end, probably Kate’s soon-to-be husband. They needed time alone. “You know, I’m pretty wiped out and you need to get back to that fiancé of yours. Tell Dominic I said hi.”

  “I will. And remember, I’m always here for you, Payton. Love you.”

  Payton dropped the phone on the bed next to her and continued to stare up at the ceiling. Talking to her friend had been cathartic, no matter how brief the conversation had been. And for the first time, she was ready to think about how she felt about her discovery. To touch and prod the wound.

  Hurt. Betrayed. Humiliated. Definitely all fit the bill, but… She thought about Kate’s sadness when she’d broken up with her skeazy boyfriend, Michael, and then later when she ended things with Dominic before she knew the depth of her feelings for him. Her friend had been heartbroken, but infinitely more so about the latter. The pain evident in her eyes.

  Was Payton’s heart breaking at the thought that Brad had been cheating on her? She wasn’t so sure. Was she ready to draw blood from him if he were in this room now? Undoubtedly. But after she’d physically maimed him, was she going to feel that deep sense of loss and sadness, like she’d lost almost a part of her heart, as she’d sensed with Kate?

  It was an uncomfortable truth to know that she wouldn’t.

  Maybe she was wired differently than Kate about these kinds of things. For all Kate’s bristly nature, she was a softie underneath. Wanting the unattainable—a happily ever after. Payton had never had any illusions that such a thing really existed. So maybe that’s why she didn’t feel things on a deep level like her friend.

  This truth didn’t, however, diminish the pain she felt at Brad’s betrayal. Because she loved him. Truly she did. He was a good friend, a good companion. And they would have had a wonderful, perfect life together because they were so compatible. Same family background, same social connections. They were…well matched. Like a perfect china set.

  And in one moment of truth, one ill-timed phone call, their future together was now in question. She couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—lead her mother’s life.

  She remembered the night Brad proposed. Always so cocky and full of himself, but in an endearing way, he had actually been a little nervous when he gave her that ring. He promised her a good life. His love and devotion. And in that moment, she was happy. Content.

  Tears pooled in her eyes again and fell. She didn’t try to stem them this time, even as their saltiness reached the creases in the corner of her mouth.

  She didn’t know how long she laid there, tears streaming down, when she heard the short rapping of knuckles on her door. Cruz.

  She sat up, wiping her tears away, trying to compose herself. “Just a minute.” She stopped in the bathroom, hating the splotchy way her face looked, and splashed some cool water on before drying off on a towel.

  When she opened the door a minute later, Cruz looked almost worried standing there with his brows furrowed. His brown eyes staring at her with intensity and concern instead of his usual disdain. He didn’t wait for her to ask him to come in. He just stepped inside and shut the door. He reached his hand out and rested it on her shoulder. It felt good, heavy and solid.

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  He’s actually worried about me.

  Damn, damn, damn. The tears pooled again, and she tried to laugh. “Don’t mind me. It’s just a mild break down. I’ll be my normal chipper self by morning. Tomorrow night at the latest.”

  He didn’t argue, only led her to the bed and helped her take a seat. He grabbed the chair at the desk and pulled it over and sat down, leaning forward as he faced her. “You know, whatever it is, you might feel better if you talked about it. If it helps, I have a pretty good idea what’s going on. I heard some of your conversation with your mother. And of course, there was the whole Boobalicious reference.”

  This managed to earn another strangled laugh and she hiccupped at the end. How could someone she was certain hated her suddenly be there offering his strength and support?

  She hated Cruz just like he hated her, right?

  She wiped another tear away. “Yeah, well. It isn’t very hard to color in the lines from there. I made the mistake earlier today of trying to have a video chat with Brad before I boarded the plane. You see, I was pretty ticked off with him when he told me he wasn’t coming with me this weekend and I had laid into him. But then I started feeling bad about it, realizing his working was only to help ensure our future together.”

  She stopped a moment, as emotion swelled in her throat. She swallowed and continued. “Well, let’s just say when the other line picked up, it wasn’t exactly the image I had expected.” She relayed the visual, ending with the phone disconnecting. “So you can understand why today is not really a highlight in my life.”

  He didn’t say anything at first, just remained still as he studied her. “Well, I think you have a pretty good shot that tomorrow can’t be worse than today, if that offers you any comfort. Because I’d agree that this is one shitty-ass day.” He twisted the cap off a bottled water that she realized for the first time he’d been holding since he arrived. “Here. You could probably use this.”

  She took the water and let the cool liquid slide past her parched mouth. Before she knew it, she’d gulped down half the bottle as Cruz watched.

  He nodded to the phone still on the bed. “You going to be okay if I take that? Did you need to make any more calls?”

  She shook her head. “I think enough has been said for today. Take it before I do something stupid.”

  “Okay. I’m going to go now.” He came to his feet, returning the chair where he’d found it. “You’ll be all right?”

  She tried to smile but it was a pitiful attempt. “I’m not going to drown myself in the tub, if that’s what you’re worried about. Maybe just the dessert under that room service tray.”

  “Well if you need anything, I’m in room 626, right down the hall. Otherwise, I’ll come by at six so we can grab something to eat downstairs and get on the road.”

  She followed him to the door and held the door as he walked out. “Th
anks, Cruz. I—” she stopped when he turned around to meet her gaze. She was used to seeing his dark eyes filled with censure or annoyance, frustration or anger. But the warm softness in those dark amber eyes was something new. Almost…friendly. She swallowed and tried again. “I appreciate your looking out for me today.”

  He nodded. “See you in the morning, Payton.”

  She closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment as she thought about their conversation.

  Maybe the rest of the trip with the usually mulishly silent giant wouldn’t be so bad after all. He might even be growing on her.

  Chapter Five

  Payton dropped the change in the hand of the toll attendant and, once the gate popped up, pressed on the gas, sending the car lurching forward. Cruz closed his eyes, having vowed not to say a word upon leaving Monterrey that morning.

  But seriously. The woman was a menace behind the wheel. He’d almost swear she was doing it just to test his fortitude.

  She snuck a glance at him, and he turned in time to see a dimple and smile before they disappeared. Normally, he might be irritated that she was trying to goad him. But this morning, after knowing what she’d been through the day before and the toll it took on her, he was actually relieved to see some of that familiar spunk.

  But he couldn’t resist imparting one warning. “I know we’re in a hurry, but you realize that being placed in a Mexican jail for speeding probably wouldn’t help us arrive any sooner.”

  “They put people in jail for speeding?” She actually sounded shocked.

  “They can do anything if they have reason to. A couple of Americans racing through Mexico may raise their suspicions, and they could fabricate a reason for holding us. You have to remember that in Mexico, you’re presumed guilty until you prove your innocence. Do you really want to push it?”

  Payton’s foot eased off the gas a little.

  “I’d recommend we go a few miles under the limit, just to be safe. We’ll still easily make Guadalajara by three-thirty.”

  He watched her again, the bright morning light making it easier to see her features now that the sun had risen. Since their luggage was temporarily AWOL, Payton didn’t have on the usual light touch of makeup. Her lashes were bare and light like her hair, but instead of making those green eyes disappear into her pale creamy skin, the effect made her look younger and more innocent. If not for the slightest pink tinge around her eyes, you wouldn’t have known she’d spent the night before crying.

  His hands tightened in a grip as he remembered that helpless feeling he’d experienced as she crumbled in front of him, tears no longer dammed back. Knowing she was being ripped apart by the actions of the one man who was supposed to love and protect her. Having two sisters, he’d seen first hand the pain and devastation that love can bring, and he’d been careful in his thirty-five years not to get close enough to any woman to cause that pain. It wouldn’t be fair to them.

  Unlike Dominic, a family, house, woman of his dreams…they weren’t something he ever envisioned. He wanted to make a name for himself. Conquer the business world and make sure no one ever underestimated him. He couldn’t let himself get distracted by the mess that love could cause. Having Angelina crush his naive seventeen-year-old heart had been enough.

  His thoughts turned to the other thing that had stood out about last night. That had, in fact, kept him company long into the early hours, when sleep evaded him.

  Payton.

  What the hell had she been thinking answering the door in that T-shirt and prancing around the room like she had? Did she have no idea how enticing and sexy as hell she’d been with her hair tousled and around her shoulders, her cheeks flushed, her eyes brilliantly green? It was obvious she didn’t.

  But he did. As had the guy who’d delivered room service, sneaking glances at her legs and chest when she was too distracted with signing the slip and holding the phone to notice. It had taken every ounce of strength not to slam his fist into the guy’s belly when he couldn’t keep his gaze higher than her breasts.

  At least this morning she was fully dressed again and Cruz could think straight.

  A catchy song came on the radio and Payton’s head bounced slightly to the music. Her hair that had been so carefully straightened and styled yesterday was now in softer waves around her shoulders. Pretty. Probably silky and smooth too.

  Once again, he asked himself what the hell Brad had been thinking cheating on a woman like her?

  If Cruz was where Brad was, with an enviable last name and business title, ready to inherit a massive financial empire, and a beautiful and smart and funny woman at his side, he wouldn’t need to mess around with any cheap bimbo. He’d have everything he needed. Just goes to show that some people could really be bat-shit crazy, never appreciating what they had.

  Reaching behind the seat, Cruz pulled his laptop out of the bag and booted it up. Even without an Internet connection, he could still get some work done. Cathy had called earlier to confirm he was scheduled for a conference call with Dick Eastman later this afternoon, and he wanted to be ready. He just prayed his cell service, which had already been spotty, would hold out until then.

  Payton glanced over at his screen and then back at the road. “Seriously? You’re going to work for the next few hours? Isn’t this supposed to be a vacation?”

  He didn’t look up as he responded, “First, I think we can both agree that this adventure isn’t anywhere near a vacation. Second, there’s no chance I’m letting you take the wheel longer than three hours. And third, when you have a job you love, that you’re passionate about, work is less of a trial than a thrill. But then again, I can’t imagine a social butterfly like you has ever worked a day in her life or aspired to be anything else than pampered.”

  “Gee, and here I thought we were making some progress and you were something other than an ass.” He flitted his eyes up to see her grip the steering wheel and just as quickly release the tension. She swept her hair to the side and breathed in, as if following some three-step program for stress relief before she continued. “Not that I have any reason to explain myself to you, but I’ll have you know I had other aspirations once. I was even in the top fifteen percent at Vanderbilt—not an easy feat.”

  “Vanderbilt? Isn’t that some snooty school turning out southern belles every season?” he asked, as if he hadn’t already Googled the school.

  “It’s only one of the top-rated colleges in the country and was ranked number sixteen by U.S. News last year.”

  Okay, he was being unreasonably condescending but he couldn’t help himself around this woman. For some reason, Payton Vaughn brought out the worst in him. Like he was taking out all his frustration with the business world and the good old boy’s club that he’d been working against on her. It wasn’t fair. He knew it but couldn’t seem to stop himself. “What did you major in, anyway? Home Economics? Embroidery? No. Don’t tell me, Liberal Arts and Science.”

  Instead of getting under her skin, as he’d been trying, she only smiled at him and shook her head. “Earth and Environmental Science. I wanted to be involved in land-use planning and environmental management one day. Even spent a summer in Costa Rica. The way they’ve incorporated conservation techniques while maintaining economic sustainability is commendable.” She sighed and scrunched up her nose in distaste. “Now I’m resigned to making sure the charitable events I’m on the board for have appropriate recycling receptors and limit themselves to serving shrimp as an appetizer only twice a year.” She glanced over at him and added, “You have no idea the ecological devastation shrimping has on the oceans.”

  Okay. She’d shocked the hell out of him. He was suitably impressed. “So how come you’re not doing anything with your education?”

  She shrugged. “Emily Vaughn envisioned something else for her daughter.”

  She was silent another moment, as if trying to decide how much more of herself she wanted to share with him. He shut the laptop, letting her know she had his attent
ion. She smiled a little wistfully. “After I graduated and returned home, I had ambition. I even took the LSAT, like Kate, and was accepted into the U’s law school. I was going to focus on environmental law, maybe be a lobbyist or something.”

  He nodded, encouraging her to continue. “What happened?”

  “Just one crisis after another, starting with my grandmother dying—a woman my mother avoided like the plague when she was alive. Her death sent her into a spiraling depression. With her incapacitated, I found myself putting off law school and stepping into her shoes for the next year, thinking it would still be waiting for me later. But I did such a great job with the functions I helped host, and they needed new blood so badly, I found it hard to untangle myself from those obligations. And I have to be honest, it was fun and liberating at first, not having to worry about the next exam or research project, staying out late and sleeping in until well past noon. I was frivolous and stupid and…”

  She stopped, considering her words. Finally she shook her head, almost in disgust and sighed. “I guess, when I put it like that, I can’t blame my mother entirely for the course my life has taken. I could have said no. But it was so much easier going along with the tide than fighting it. And then Brad came back home and I starting seeing him, which made both of our parents ecstatic, and I got wrapped up in having the perfect life with him and”—she darted a glance his way—“you can see how well that went.”

  “So what are you now, twenty-seven? Twenty-eight?”

  “Twenty-nine.” She definitely sounded disgruntled about that.

  “Twenty-nine, then. It’s not like you’re in your fifties and are just now seeing Brad for who he is and having to get back out there and reinvent yourself. You’re still young. You can still go to law school, have a career. If you wanted to.” Look at him. He’d become Payton Vaughn’s own virtual cheerleader.