by Kaylee Ryan
“You had me at double.” He laughs.
“Great. I’ll be your point of contact, but if either of them reach out to you, play it off. Stall them, and we’ll need something official looking in the next week or so.”
“I’m all over it. I need a copy of the marriage license, and I’ll get started. I’ll have my courier drop something off soon. The house?”
“Yes. Talk soon,” I say, ending the call.
The plan is in motion. Now I just need to sit back and enjoy the show. I’ll tell them eventually, regardless of the outcome. They’ll thank me when they’re living happily ever after. Closing my eyes, I look toward the ceiling. “Help me guide them, Mary Bear. I love you and miss you every day.” Opening my eyes, I kiss my fingers and touch the frame on my desk of my late wife.
After Rhett dropped me off last night, I came in and took a long, hot shower, then went to bed. I was exhausted both mentally and physically. I was also afraid I would call him and beg him to come back. I shouldn’t have let him kiss me, but my strength to resist him is nonexistent at this point. When he referred to me as his wife, my freaking ovaries exploded. It makes me wonder, what would it be like to really be his? To be married to a man like Rhett? He’s got this hard exterior, but when he lets you in, he’s all soft and cuddly. He’s the full package.
My phone vibrates across the small kitchen table.
Molly: You up?
Me: Yep.
Molly: I’m on my way over.
Me: K
I was expecting this. I’m sure she wants to know how the trip was. I’m fairly certain she doesn’t know about my predicament, or she would have mentioned it. Looking at the diamond band on my hand, I know I should take it off, and I will. I’m going to see how long it takes her to notice first. Might as well have a little fun from this bizarre situation.
“Come in!” I yell when she knocks on the door.
“Hey, girl, how was the trip?” she asks, kicking off her boots and tossing her coat on the small bench by the door.
“It was good.”
“I need more than that. What all did you do? See any shows?”
I nod. “Yeah, we went to a burlesque show, which was pretty wild. We watched the fountain/light show at the Bellagio both nights. The first night we got there after the last show had started. I wanted to see it again,” I explain.
“I’ve heard it’s amazing.” She sighs. “I’ll get there one day.”
“How have you been? How did the meeting go with the wedding planner?” Flashes of my wedding roll through my mind.
“Meh, there’s a lot to this wedding business. We might just do something small like Gatlinburg, or somewhere tropical, maybe even Vegas.” She laughs.
If she only knew. “What do you want, Molly? Don’t let the stress of planning the wedding keep you from having the wedding of your dreams.”
“You know, I always thought I wanted a big wedding, but as I get older, and now that I’m engaged, I’m not so sure. I think it was just a fantasized dream of a little girl, you know? What about you?”
“I’ve never really planned on having a big wedding. Honestly, I think weddings are overrated,” I tell her. Not just because I recently married the sexy Rhett Baxter while intoxicated in Vegas either.
“How so?” she asks.
“Think about all the money you could potentially spend on a huge wedding. All the food, the venue to house everyone, and the decorations. Me personally, I think a wedding should be just for the bride and groom. You’re pledging your life to someone, and that someone is all that matters in that moment. I’ve just always felt weddings were frivolous. Think of the honeymoon or even down payment on a house you could have using that money differently.”
“You make a good point,” she agrees.
“Don’t let me influence you. Hell, maybe it’s because I’ve never really had family or a father to walk me down the aisle? All I know is that it’s never been something I’ve dreamed about. For me, it was more the union, the binding myself to someone for life. Creating a family, somewhere for me to belong,” I explain.
“Honestly, I’ve never really thought about it like that. I can see the appeal for sure, especially after our meeting. I just want to be married to Jake.”
“Nothing else really matters.”
“Yeah,” she sighs. “I mean, now that I think about it, we’ve been wanting to remodel the rest of the house anyway. We could use that money and still be married. It’s genius, really.” She laughs.
I pull up my arm to look at my watch. “Therapy’s over. I’ll see you the same time next week.” I laugh.
“What is that?” she asks, grabbing my hand.
“What does it look like?” I counter.
“It looks like a wedding band, a very expensive wedding band,” she says, pulling my hand closer to get a better look.
“Ding, ding, ding,” I sing.
“From the looks of this thing, it’s new. It’s all shiny and shit. Not an heirloom.” With a tight grip on my hand, she looks up at me. “Are you married?”
I can see her trying to process this. “Yeah, but not for long.”
“Explain,” she says, dropping my hand and pulling her feet under her on the couch. I assume to settle in for the story.
“It was Saturday night,” I say as I begin to tell her the details about my weekend that I’m sure she would have much rather have heard as soon as she got here. “So yeah,” I say once I’ve finished. “Grandpa Rhett is calling his attorney and taking care of the divorce. He was pretty adamant that he would handle it.”
“You’re married?” she asks to clarify.
“Yep.”
“To Rhett? Rhett Baxter?”
“Yep,” I say again.
“Did you… I mean, have you—” I stop her there.
“Yep.”
“Holy fucking shit! I need details,” she says, wiggling around in excitement.
My mouth drops open. “Really, Molly?”
“Hell yes, that man is fine.” She wags her eyebrows.
“That man is my husband,” I say, laughing. “I tried to say it with a straight face,” I tell her.
“Being under that is no laughing matter,” she quips with a smile.
“Gah!”
“So you’re married, but getting a divorce?”
“Yep,” seems to be my answer of choice for this conversation.
“Are you dating?”
“No. It was a one-time thing—well, the first night, and then after the wedding, but that was the alcohol,” I say in a rush.
“Wait, hold up,” she says, doing just that and holding up her hands to stop me.
“You slept with him before you were married?”
This time all I can do is nod.
“And you’re not dating.”
“Nope. It was a Vegas thing, the lights, the shows, the atmosphere. It was supposed to have been left in Vegas, but we sort of brought it home with us.”
“Did you discuss that specifically?”
I stop and think. “No,” I say cautiously. “We’re on the same page, trust me.”
“Uh-huh, so when do you see your sexy husband again?” she asks. “Damn, I didn’t think you would beat me down the aisle.” She giggles when I smack her arm.
“Not funny,” I say, trying not to laugh. I have to laugh about it; crying all day isn’t an option. So we drank too much and got married. Gramps will get his guys on it and that will be that.
“Fine,” she says with an exaggerated sigh. “What do you have planned for the rest of the day?”
“Nothing. I need to run to the grocery store, but other than that, a whole lot of nothing.”
“I need to go too, want to ride together? We can grab lunch and make an afternoon of it,” she suggests.
“Sure.”
“Be ready at noon,” she chirps, jumping up from the couch and heading toward the door. “Is this top secret? I mean, obviously the sex I’ll keep to myself, but the marria
ge, can I tell Jake?”
I nod. “I don’t see why not. They’re friends. We didn’t really discuss trying to keep it under wraps. I guess we need to have that conversation.”
“It’s going to get out, Saylor. You know that, right? Rhett is a good-looking guy, comes from money, his family is legend in this town. Besides, it’s public record and will be reported in the local paper.”
“Do people still read those?”
She smirks. “See you in a few.” She waves and walks out the door.
I start to worry that Rhett will be upset that I told her and that I told her she could tell Jake. Grabbing my phone, I send him a message.
Me: Hey, I told Molly. She asked if she could tell Jake, and I told her yes.
It’s mere seconds before his reply comes through.
Rhett: What exactly did you tell her?
Me: That we’re married, but getting a divorce.
Not the complete truth, but the part I was feeling guilty about.
Rhett: It’s cool. I’m not trying to hide it.
Rhett: I’m not ashamed to be married to you.
Rhett: Are you?
Rhett: I mean, are you ashamed to be married to me?
He fires off a round of texts.
Me: Not that we did it, but how. It was irresponsible.
Rhett: Yeah…
I wait for more, but it never comes. Tossing my phone on the couch, I head to the bedroom. It’s time for a long, hot shower before trudging around in the cold to get groceries. What an exciting life I lead. You know, except for the drunken Vegas marriage.
I haven’t seen her since I dropped her off at her place on Saturday. Other than the text messages on Sunday, I haven’t talked to her either. Is it normal for a man to go without seeing or speaking to his wife? Oh, right, we’re not normal and not together in the true sense of the word married. It’s fucked up, and it’s fucking with my head. It’s Thursday night, and I know she’s working. I might have texted Jake and asked him if they all wanted to go ice skating tomorrow. He declined, saying the three of them were working tonight and the girls planned to go shopping tomorrow so skating is out.
That led me to now, sitting in my truck in the parking lot of the Corner Pocket. I have the defrost on high to keep my windows from fogging up. That’s all I need is for someone to report back to Saylor I’m out here fogging up the windows with some bar fly. Sure, we’re not together, but I won’t embarrass her or myself like that. Cheater, I am not. Regardless of the situation.
Pulling my keys from the ignition, I make my way inside. The stool at the far end of the bar, where I’ve spent more nights than I care to admit in recent months, is vacant. As if the universe knew this is where I would end up tonight. Not that it was hard to figure out. It’s been too fucking long since I’ve laid eyes on her. I’m not letting this marriage thing stop me from pursuing her. After that first night together in Vegas, I thought things were going to go my way. I was wrong, but that’s okay. Nothing worth fighting for is ever easy. I’m going to give her the divorce she’s asking for, and then I’m going to make her mine. If some day we get to the point of marriage, I won’t hesitate to give her the wedding she deserves. I’m getting way ahead of myself putting the cart before the horse and all that. I have to convince her to date me. Then I need to make some decisions about my future. I can’t ask her to leave this town, not when she’s finally settling in and making a life. It’s not a hard decision to make, really. I’ve always loved it here, and the distillery owns a special place with me. Sure, my parents might be disappointed, but from the talks I’ve had with Dad recently, I think he knows it’s coming. I’m not doing it just for her. I’m doing it for me. I’m happier here, and I want her to be a part of that.
As I slide onto the stool, Jake spots me and gives me a head nod as he mixes a drink. Molly is at the opposite end of the bar, and I know Saylor’s on the floor serving. I spotted her as soon as I came in. It’s as if my eyes are trained to seek her out any time she’s near. It’s irrational and not like me, but this is Saylor and that makes all the difference.
“You here to check up on your wife?” Jake asks when he makes his way toward me.
“Just came for a drink,” I say, fighting the urge to not look over my shoulder for Saylor.
“Keep telling yourself that,” he says, pouring me a draft.
“It’s been a few days since we’ve talked. Just thought I should give her an update on the divorce.”
“I’d be happy to relay the information.” He smirks.
“Fucker,” I mumble, making him laugh.
“Hey,” Saylor says, coming up beside us. She rambles her order to Jake and then turns to face me. “How are you? Any news from your gramps?”
I would like to pretend she means his health, and she might, but I know what she’s really asking. “He made the calls, said we should have the paperwork in a few days to start the process.”
“Great.” Jake fills her tray with shots. “Duty calls.” She smiles, grabs the tray, and takes off into the crowd.
“It’s busy for a Thursday night,” I comment, taking a sip of my beer.
“Yeah, it’s ladies’ night. We’re trying out themes to see how big of a crowd they draw. Oddly enough, guys swarm to ladies’ night. There are more dicks than chicks,” he tells me.
Raucous laughter fills the bar, causing me to turn my head. As soon as I see Saylor with some drunk asshole gripping her arm, I’m on my feet.
“Rhett!” Jake calls out for me.
I don’t stop. I reach her in a few long strides. Sliding up behind her, I place one hand on her hip and the other on the drunk asshole’s shoulder and squeeze.
“What the fuck?” he says, letting go of Saylor.
She relaxes against me. “You good, babe?” I ask her. My lips next to her ear, she gives me a subtle nod.
“Get the fuck off of me. I saw her first. I got no issue with you, dude,” he seethes.
Moving in front of Saylor, I lean down and get in his face. “Here’s what’s going to happen, motherfucker. See, you just had your hands on my wife.” His eyes widen. “No man touches her but me. So the way I see it, we do have an issue.” Reaching out, I grab the collar of his shirt and pull him to his feet. He’s still several inches shorter than me. “You have two options, apologize to my wife and leave quietly and never come back, or I can make you.”
“I know who you are,” he croaks out. “W-why would your wife be working in a bar?” He laughs.
Saylor steps around me. “Saylor,” I warn her, my voice low.
She raises her hands and shows him her diamond wedding band that she’s still wearing. The image makes my heart do crazy things in my chest, but I swallow it down until this guy is away from her.
“He’s a real man,” she says, her voice strong. Not one ounce of fear remains from what I saw in her face from across the room.
Releasing the drunk fuck, I pull Saylor into my arms and kiss her temple. “We’re waiting,” I tell him.
“Fuck, man, just do it so we can get out of here,” one of his friends urges.
“Fuck you, I’m out of here.” He shoulders past me and walks right into Jake.
“You’re banned.” He looks up at his friends. “All of you. The next time you step foot in my bar, you’ll be escorted out by the police.”
“Fuck you,” the drunk says, storming past Jake and out the door, his friends following behind him.
“You good, Short Stack?” I ask Saylor, my arms still wrapped around her.
She holds up her wrist and there are red marks from his fingers. I step away from her and take a step toward the door. My anger raring.
“Whiskey!” she calls, chasing after me. “Don’t.” She grabs my arm, halting me. She steps in front of me, wraps her arms around my waist, and rests her head against my chest. “I’m fine. Don’t make it worse,” she whispers.
“She’s right,” Jake says, clamping his hand down on my shoulder as if he can hold me back. �
��They’re gone and not worth it. You good, Say?”
“I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me. He was just one of many drunk douchebags who thinks they can put their hands wherever they want.” She looks up at me. “You need a drink.” She steps away and pulls me to my stool at the end of the bar, pushing me into it. I don’t take my eyes off her as she rounds the bar and pours me a fresh beer and slides it in front of me. “Drink,” she says, pointing to the frosty mug. She leans her elbows on the bar, watching, waiting for me to do as she says. Grabbing the mug, I bring it to my lips and drain half of it before setting it back on the bar. “Better?”
I run my fingers through my hair. “What are you doing to me?” I ask her.
She smiles softly. “Nothing more than what you’re doing to me. What’s with all the wife business?”
“You’re my wife,” I remind her.
“On paper,” she whispers.
“We had a wedding night.”
She looks down the bar. “Jake’s getting backed up, and it looks like Molly is on the floor. I need to get back to work.”
Reaching out, I grab her hand gently and run my fingers over the red marks on her wrist. My heart is racing from the rush of anger, or maybe it’s just her, just Saylor. My mind is racing with flashbacks of my time with her in Vegas. I run my finger over her wedding band. Her thumb brushes over mine, our eyes meeting. Something passes between us; something… more. I just wish I could describe it. I wish I knew what it meant.
“I need to go,” she says softly.
Reluctantly, I release her and pick up my beer. I nurse the remainder the rest of the night, never taking my eyes off her while she works. Once the doors are locked, I help them put the chairs up so the floor can be mopped. I stay out of the way while they go about their nightly closing routine. Saylor assured me she was fine, that I could go, but I’ll make sure she gets to her car safely. Jake’s here, but I won’t be satisfied if I don’t see to it myself.