Marry Me, Mendoza!

by Judy Duarte

  As ready as she’d ever be, she supposed. She offered him a smile and nodded.

  “Are you packed?” he asked.

  “Almost. But I thought I’d better ask if you still planned to take time off for a honeymoon.”

  He leaned his hip against the counter. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because of all the work you have to do on the building.”

  “I spent the past few days getting everything and everyone lined out. There’s no reason why I can’t leave town now. Do you have your passport?”

  “Yes, I packed some basic essentials, but I wasn’t sure what else I’d need. You haven’t told me where we’re going.”

  “It’s a surprise. But I will say that you’ll probably want to take a swimsuit or two. Maybe some shorts, a sundress, some sandals. And speaking of surprises, I invited a friend to the wedding.”

  She tried to think of all the guys he’d known in school. Was he still close to any of them?

  “Who’d you invite?” she asked. “Do I know him?”

  “I don’t think so. It’s Sawyer Fortune. I just met him a year and a half ago, but we hit it off immediately. Besides, I owed him an invitation to my wedding.”

  Nicole had met several of the Fortunes at charity events over the years, but Sawyer hadn’t been one of them. While she wasn’t happy about adding any extra people to the wedding guest list, she was curious about the man, about the friendship he had with Miguel. “So where’d you meet him?”

  Miguel chuckled. “I guess you could say we met at Marcos and Wendy’s wedding, although it was actually in the bar while watching ESPN on television and drinking beer. I never have enjoyed attending weddings and receptions, especially when they interfered with sporting events. So I slipped off to check out the score of the Cowboys game, only to find an Atlanta Falcons fan doing the same thing.”

  “And that was Sawyer?”

  “Yep. It didn’t take long to learn that, even though we favored different teams to make the playoffs, we had a lot in common.”

  “Such as...?”

  “Well, we were both dyed-in-the-wool bachelors who’d rather be anywhere else than at a wedding reception. We’re about the same age. We lived out of state at the time, had family in Red Rock and knew some of the same people. We also liked sports—baseball, football, you name it.”

  “How’d you maintain a relationship while living in New York?”

  “We got involved in a fantasy football league and kept in contact through email. He’s back in Red Rock now. I ran into him yesterday, so I told him about the wedding.”

  “What did you guys do? Make some kind of bet about who’d be the first to give up his freedom?”

  “It was more like an agreement that we’d never get married. And that if we did, the other would get a front row seat and bragging rights. I hope you don’t mind. Sawyer’s a great guy. I think you’ll like him. Most women do.”

  It sounded as though the two bachelors did have a lot in common, because Miguel was one handsome man—and charming to boot. There’d be plenty of women disappointed when they learned he was off the market. And he would be, at least temporarily.

  Maybe she should have made some kind of dating stipulation in their agreement. She wouldn’t like it if he immediately jumped back into his footloose bachelor lifestyle the moment they filed for divorce.

  She didn’t offer a comment, only a smile as she removed the nonfat creamer from the pantry and placed a spoonful into her coffee.

  The wedding guest list had now grown to a whopping fourteen, not counting the justice of the peace or the bride and groom.

  “Did you decide to invite your parents to the wedding after all?” Miguel asked.

  Actually, it had crossed her mind a couple times, but she didn’t want to mar the day with their negativity, their stiff and flawed attempts to appear polite. Especially when the Mendozas had been amazingly supportive.

  Besides, Miguel, who’d been so sweet, didn’t deserve their haughty expressions.

  “No,” she said. “If we’d run off to Las Vegas, they would have missed seeing the actual ceremony anyway.”

  “I still think you should tell them and give them the option of attending or not.”

  Why should they witness a wedding that wasn’t for the right reasons?

  And why would Miguel care anyway?

  “As a side note,” he added, “it would serve them right to see us tie the knot and not be able to stop it from happening this time around.”

  It would “serve them right”? Maybe so. But had he agreed to marry her for more reasons than money?

  Her heart clenched at the thought. After she’d first offered to pay him when she’d met him for dinner in New York, he’d turned her down. It wasn’t until he’d had time to reconsider that he’d changed his mind.

  She tried to read his expression, but wasn’t having much luck.

  As if noting her curiosity, he shrugged. “I really don’t care one way or the other. It was just a suggestion.”

  Nicole had no reason not to believe him. Yet she still felt a little uneasy because of his comment, as well as the thought of inviting her parents.

  She supposed he had a point, but who knew what kind of pall her father—if not her mother—would cast over the otherwise happy event.

  Still, the more people who witnessed the vows, the more traditional the wedding seemed.

  And the more Nicole questioned her decision to exclude her mom and dad.

  Chapter Eight

  J.R. and Isabella’s courtyard had always held a quaint charm, but the recent renovations they’d made—the new water fountain that gurgled in the center of the walled yard and the lush hanging plants and pots of flowers placed throughout—created a peaceful setting in which to gather for a wedding.

  Miguel, who stood next to his brother Marcos and the justice of the peace, scanned the smiling faces of his other family members who waited for the ceremony to begin.

  The rented chairs on which they now sat had been covered in fancy white fabric and bows and set up in two rows of eight, with a short aisle down the middle.

  Just moments ago, Andy and Elizabeth Castleton had arrived at the ranch. Earlier this morning, Miguel had encouraged Nicole to call and extend a late invitation, and she had. He looked forward to having them there, to seeing their reaction when their daughter married the guy they’d believed was beneath her.

  Okay, so maybe there was a small part of him that still hoped that they’d finally accept him, that he might even win them over. But that wasn’t likely.

  Either way, Miguel had told Nicole that her parents’ absence would have been difficult to explain to his family, who’d turned out in full support.

  Of course, it wouldn’t take anyone long to connect a few of the dots, if they hadn’t done so already, and realize that the Castletons would rather be getting root canals than have front-row seats at the wedding. Not while Andy sat as stiff as a Buckingham Palace guard, and Elizabeth dabbed at her eyes with a linen handkerchief.

  Some might think their presence made things awkward—and for Nicole, it probably had. But Miguel still took a bit of pleasure in knowing that they hadn’t been able to stop the wedding.

  Of course, he still wished that Nicole would have told them what they could do with their legal stipulations and the stock they held in front of her like carrots. Instead she’d chosen a more passive way to rebel.

  And what if she had? He still intended to make the best of their short marriage, and that meant whisking his wife off on a romantic honeymoon that he’d not only planned but paid for.

  They might have made a business arrangement, for which he was being financially compensated, but he wouldn’t let her call all the shots—or pay for them.

  Across the aisle, Luis Men
doza, Miguel’s father, sat front and center, wearing a happy smile and looking dapper in his new gray suit. He turned and whispered something to Isabella and J.R., who were seated next to him.

  Behind them, Wendy, Marcos’s wife, as well as Asher Fortune, Marnie’s fiancé, sat together.

  Leah and Javier, plus Rafe and Melina, filled the other chairs, their smiles, occasional nods and whispers evidence of their unconditional acceptance of the union.

  At the thought of his family’s wholehearted support, another swirl of regret swept through him. He told himself it didn’t matter, that he’d make the best of the short-term marriage and that his family would never know the difference.

  His gaze returned to Sawyer Fortune, who sat next to Asher. His barroom buddy sported a playful grin that said, “Better you than me, dude.”

  If he only knew.

  But then again, romance and promises of forever aside, Miguel was about to marry the woman he’d once loved more than life itself. The woman whose desperate plea and financial offer was making it possible for him to open his nightclub within the next month or two.

  The woman who’d...

  Oh, wow. The woman who’d just entered the courtyard, looking like a lovely dream come true.

  The maid of honor, Marnie McCafferty, led the way, but Miguel couldn’t take his eyes off his dazzling bride. That dress had looked great when she’d tried it on for him last Saturday night. But today? With her hair swept up in a pile of curls, a sizable pair of diamond studs in her ears...?

  Damn. If he weren’t careful, he just might fall head-over-heels in love with her all over again. And that—more than sex—would complicate things for him.

  As music sounded and Marnie started down the short aisle, Miguel watched Nicole, struck by her beauty, by the way she bit down on her bottom lip as though she were a pauper in princess clothing.

  They’d nearly pulled it off. Just a few more steps.

  He caught her gaze and cast her a charming smile. We can do it, honey.

  The silent communication seemed to lighten her load, to lift her mood.

  Before he knew it, she was at his side, and for the next few minutes, Miguel forgot the whole wedding was a sham.

  * * *

  As the justice of the peace spoke, Nicole tried her best to listen, to focus on the vows she was about to make. Yet she couldn’t help stealing a glance at her parents, who sat in the front row.

  She’d broken down this morning and had decided to call them, even before Miguel had suggested she do so. And she’d told them she was getting married today. She’d invited them to attend—if they could hide their disappointment and try to be supportive.

  They’d complained about the short notice, about the hasty mistake she was about to make, but they’d asked where they were supposed to be and when.

  Her father hadn’t mentioned anything about walking her down the aisle or giving her away—and she hadn’t brought it up. After that last stunt he’d pulled, she’d decided to skip that “special” part of the wedding. As a result, she’d moved down the aisle with a newfound sense of freedom—as well as a tinge of regret.

  And now that her marriage plan was all coming into play, her heart scrambled to make sense of it all, especially the whacky, unexpected feeling she had for Miguel.

  She wouldn’t call it love, though. She couldn’t call it that. But just being with him today, sensing his friendship, set off an unexpected boost of confidence, of peace, of strength.

  “Do you take this man,” the justice of the peace began.

  Nicole couldn’t help but look at Miguel with a yearning based upon... What? The love they were about to claim was real?

  He’d suggested they write their own vows, which might have been nice had the circumstances been different. But she’d refused to consider it for fear it would make her think too hard about what she might actually feel for him.

  When the justice of the peace asked the standard questions, she answered, “I do.”

  Next it was Miguel’s turn.

  When he said, “I do,” his voice clear and decisive, she could almost believe he meant those words from the bottom of his heart.

  “By the power vested in me by the state of Texas,” the justice of the peace said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

  With that, Miguel took her in his arms and kissed her—sweet and tender and all too brief for a man whose vow of love had been real.

  So what more had she expected? And why had she found it so darn disappointing?

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the smiling officiate announced, “may I be the first to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Miguel Mendoza.”

  The wedding guests broke out in cheers and applause, while Nicole’s parents merely sat there, her dad’s expression unreadable, her mom wearing a wistful smile, her eyes red-rimmed and watery.

  As if sensing her discomfort, Miguel took her by the hand, giving her fingers a warm and gentle squeeze, reminding her that she had someone in her corner, even if that sweet someone had been bought and paid for.

  “Nicole and I are glad that you came to share our special day with us,” Miguel told their guests. “We’d also like to thank J.R. and Isabella for allowing us to have the ceremony at Molly’s Pride.”

  “It was our pleasure,” J.R. said, taking a stand and extending his arm toward an arched doorway. “Please join us for drinks and refreshments on the patio.”

  At that point, Nicole’s father got to his feet, and her mother followed suit. As the older couple approached Miguel and Nicole, her father’s expression finally softened.

  He kissed Nicole’s cheek. “You look beautiful, baby girl. I only regret that you didn’t give us time to get used to all of this—and to give us an opportunity to provide the kind of wedding your mother had always wanted you to have.”

  Nicole’s mom sniffled and wiped her eyes with a damp, twisted handkerchief. “You’re a beautiful bride, sweetheart. But then, I always knew you would be.”

  At that heartfelt truth, Nicole felt a dual stab of guilt and regret. Her eyes filled with tears. She wished things would have been different, that her mother could have helped her plan the perfect wedding—to the perfect groom, of course.

  “You didn’t even have a photographer,” her mother added.

  “My brother will take a few shots during the reception,” Miguel said. “And we’ll pose with the justice of the peace before he leaves.”

  Her father reached into the pocket of his lapel, pulled out an envelope and handed it to Miguel. “We didn’t have time to get a card, but here you go, son. Use it wisely.”

  Miguel tensed momentarily, then accepted what had to be a gift of cash. “Thank you. Nicole will use it to decorate the new house.”

  She suspected he wanted her parents to know that he wouldn’t spend the money on himself, although they had no idea that the house would remain in her name alone and that he’d pack up and leave one day, taking only the clothes he’d brought with him.

  “When do you plan to move in?” her mother asked.

  “As soon as we return from our honeymoon.” Miguel slid his arm around Nicole and drew her close, making them two against the world.

  The warmth of his touch, the strength of his grip, set her heart soaring. For a moment, it all seemed real. Maybe not the vows they’d made moments ago, but the team they’d just formed.

  Too bad they hadn’t been able to make a stand like this when they’d been young and in love.

  “Where are you going on your honeymoon?” her mother asked.

  “Miguel is surprising me. I have no idea, although he told me to pack a passport, a swimsuit and clothing suitable for warm weather.”

  “If you’ll excuse us,” her father said, cutting the conversation short and nodding toward the arched doorway that led to the
Fortunes’ patio. “Your mom and I need to go. We had other plans today and had to postpone them to fit this in.”

  She hadn’t needed the reminder. He’d said as much this morning when she’d called to invite them.

  “I’m sorry for the short notice,” Nicole said again, even though they all knew she could have mentioned an actual day and time at least a week ago.

  “Come on,” her dad said to her mom. “We’re running late as it is, and we need to thank the Fortunes for hosting the ceremony.”

  And with that, her parents were off. And just as swiftly, so was the pressure that had been building ever since their arrival at Molly’s Pride.

  Before Nicole and Miguel left the now empty courtyard, he asked, “How are you holding up?”

  “I’m fine. How about you? My dad can be so...”

  “Patronizing?” Miguel chuffed. “Tell me about it. The wedding is over, and we’re married. All we need to do is sign the license. He’ll just have to get used to it—and to me.”

  She could have reminded him that this was a marriage of convenience. And that, in spite of what the justice of the peace had proclaimed just moments ago, they wouldn’t stay together until death parted them.

  “Besides,” Miguel said, “we have a plane to catch.”

  “I’m surprised that, with everything you’ve got going on with the building, you’re still planning to take a week off.”

  “Your parents might be leaving now, but you can be sure that they’ll be watching us closely over the next few months, and I don’t want to give them any reason to doubt that our marriage isn’t the real deal.”

  She could appreciate that. Miguel was also a man of his word. He’d made an agreement and would do everything he could to abide by it.

  “So what time is our flight?” she asked.

  “I told the pilot we’d be at the airport and ready to leave by three o’clock.”

  He’d spoken directly to the pilot? “We’re not going on a commercial airline?”

  “Do you know Tanner Redmond?” he asked.

  “The name sounds familiar.”