by Cole, Jagger
Sitting there, is Deirdre’s bag.
Cassidy and I both glance at each, saying nothing. But finally, I shrug.
“Well, I’m not bringing it back to her.”
She taps her fingertips on the table. “Well, we don’t know it’s hers, right?”
“I mean, we watched her put it right—”
“I didn’t see a thing,” Cassidy shrugs. “Maybe we should look inside to see who’s it is?”
I raise a brow at my friend. “Cass…”
“What?”
“That’s illegal?”
“No, it’s not,” she shrugs. “You gotta make sure its hers before you just give it to her.”
I arch my brows.
“What?” She grins. “Plus, it’s like you’re legally obligated to give it back to her anyways.”
“Well, keeping it is called stealing.”
“Discerning who it belongs to isn’t.”
We look at each. Cassidy wags her brows.
“C’mon, Tansy…”
With a sigh, I relent. “Okay, fine. But I’m not pawing through her bag here.”
“I’m parked down the street, c’mon.”
Iced coffees in hand, we almost run with excitement to Cassidy’s truck. Inside, she yanks the bag open and dumps it on the bench seat between us. Makeup, Deirdre’s wallet, tangled headphones, a book titled “Be Your Best Boss Bitch” which makes me want to gag, and then…
“Bingo. Jackpot,” Cassidy grins as she holds up Deirdre’s laptop.
I frown. “Okay, hacking it is definitely illegal.”
“We’re not—” she snorts and peers at me. “Do you have any idea how to hack a freaking laptop?”
“Well, no—”
“We’re just….” She opens the screen up, and the password prompt pops up. “Guessing. That’s all.”
I groan. “This feels wrong.”
“She used to be married to Colt.”
Furious jealousy explodes inside of me. I turn and glare at the laptop. “Hack that fucker.”
Cassidy grins as her fingers splay over the keyboard. “Any ideas?”
“Try ‘Satan’.”
She laughs and rolls her eyes. “I think you only get a couple of tries before it locks you out.”
“Hmm, okay. Try…” I frown. “Money?”
She shrugs. “Why not.” But when she types it in, the password box shakes like it’s saying no, and the screen doesn’t change.
“Hmm, no-go.” She bites her lip. “What was that guy’s name she was with?”
“Lorne.”
She nods and types that in. But yet again, no luck.”
“Shit.” Cassidy taps her foot on the floor of the truck. I look out the window, trying to put myself in Deirdre’s shoes. And then, it hits me.
“Try ‘Deirdre’.”
“Her own name?” When I nod, she turns back to the keyboard. “Okay, here we go.”
She types it in. Suddenly, the screen fades to the desktop, and we’re in.
“Holy shit, did that seriously just work?” She balks. “Whose password is their own fucking name?”
“Vain, arrogant bitches like Deirdre?”
She smirks as we both turn to the desktop. “Okay, what are we looking for?”
I frown. “Nothing, Cass. We’re just making sure it’s Deirdre’s, and I think the password being her name makes a pretty good case for that.”
“We should probably make sure…” Cassidy opens up a folder labeled “Work Shit”.
“Cass…”
“God, remember that time she cheated on Colt a bunch of times, ran off with one of his busines partners, and then tried to steal his ranch out from under him?”
I glare at her. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Well, is it working?”
“Yup. Let’s destroy her.”
She grins as we start poking around through folders and documents. We keep drilling down, until at some point, we’re paging through a folder of documents labeled “Product Notes.” Inside, we suddenly stop at a sub folder dubbed “Delete.”
Cassidy snorts. “Yeah that doesn’t look suspicious at all.”
Obviously, we open it. Inside, there’s document that appears to be a copy-pasted email correspondence between Deirdre, Lorne, and three other people. From their email signatures, one appears to be the lead chemist for Mare-Mate. The other is their chief corporate counsel. And the third is the chief financial officer.
“Wait, what are we looking at it?”
I shake my head. “Not sure, but this looks sketchy as hell.”
We scroll down, and then both freeze. There’re a couple back and forth emails with the chemist, talking about the “big change.” Attached to those are a whole bunch of extremely technical looking diagrams and chemical compounds. One of his last emails mentions “negative side effects in trials are as expected. Proceed?”
The next bunch of back-and-forths involve the attorney, asking to be removed from the chain for ‘legal reasons.’ After that, it’s just Lorne, Deirdre, and this guy Dave, their chief financial officer. His next email is downright chilling.
“Given the cost savings with the chemical replacement we’ve discussed, negative press is negligible. Projected revenue is well above any modeled bad press or leak scenario. I recommend we proceed.”
Deirdre’s response is a less-than-classy “Hell to the yeah! Let’s do it!!!” With a bunch of dollar-sign emojis.
“What the hell are they talking about?”
I shake my head at my friend. “No idea. Click that.”
She opens up the last attachment, which is a side-by-side comparison of two chemical compounds.
“Uh, do you even know what his means?”
“No.” I purse my lips as the gears turn in my head. “But I know someone with a chemical engineering degree who will.”
11
Colt
I glare at the documents in front of me. Across the desk in my home office, my lawyer Brad frowns as well. That’s never a good sign. I look down at the documents again and grit my teeth.
Deirdre just brought out the big guns. She’s filing an injunction, calling Tansy and I out and legally challenging our engagement.
“Look, Colt, it’s a theatrics play. There’s no real legal definition of ‘engaged.’ Beyond one of you asking the other to be legally bound to each other at some imagined point in the future. And even then, no one has to prove that anyone even asked verbally or in written form if both parties attest that they both consider themselves to be engaged with each other.”
“And yet I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in there,” I grunt.
Brad nods. “Unfortunately. In this particular case and scenario, given the monetary value of what’s at stake and it riding on you being engaged or not…” He frowns. “Like I said, it’s theatrics. But in this case, Deirdre might have a leg to stand on.”
“How strong a case would she have?”
He shrugs. “A year ago, I’d say a small one. But there’s precedent now. There was a case about six months ago in Idaho that was very similar to this one. Went all the way to the State Supreme Court. They ruled in favor of the ex-husband who was accusing his ex-wife and her new ‘fiancé’ of faking it to keep disputed land after the divorce.”
I frown. “Fuck, that’s not good.”
He nods. “That one was a little different, since the ex-wife’s supposed ‘fiancé’ was her best friend, a woman.”
“And Idaho doesn’t recognize same-sex marriages.”
“Exactly,” Brad frowns. “It’s an odd case, but that’s the only precedent a judge here would have to draw from. Which takes your chances to more like a fifty-fifty. Maybe not even that good.”
“Shit,” I swear. “And if Tansy and I do get married?”
Who am I kidding? This isn’t even about trying to “fake out” Deirdre anymore. We’re not playing pretend. We’re not pulling one over on anyone. When I look at Tansy, or even fucking thi
nk of her, I know damn well what I feel.
I know I’ve never felt even close to feeling this alive and this complete before. It’s not like we’ve talked about it. But I know in my heart that taking this “fake engagement” to “actual marriage” level wouldn’t be a leap. Not for me at least.
In fact, it’s hardly the first time I’ve honestly thought about it. There’s even a certain store in town that deals with metal in certain circular shapes that can attest to that. I let my mind run wild. The idea of making her my actual wedded wife has my heart surging and a grin creeping over my face. So much so, that Brad even spots it.
He smirks at me. “This is me asking as both your friend and legal counsel, Colt.” He grins. “This thing with Tansy… you’re not actually faking it, are you?”
I shake my head. “No. I’m not.”
“Is she?”
I frown. Life’s taught me this harsh lesson before. But I know damn well Tansy isn’t Deirdre. I know in my heart that I see the same spark I her eyes when I look into them that I’ve got in mine.
“No.”
“You sure about that?”
“Very.”
Brad nods. “Well, okay then. If you get married, then yes, that’s a huge step towards stomping this bullshit of Deirdre’s out. And also ending the whole contractual dispute. But…”
“But what?”
He smiles curiously at me. “Engagement is helpful. Marriage is even more helpful. But if you want to nuke this entire thing and be done with it?”
“Yeah?”
Brad sits back in his chair. “Ever thought about being a father?”
My brows shoot up. “You’re telling me to have a kid with Tansy?”
“No, no, Colt,” he laughs. “I’m not psychotic or unethical enough to tell you to have a kid with this girl in order to beat a legal challenge. But I will say that should you two find yourself having a baby together, Deirdre and Lorne’s entire claim gets deleted,” he snaps. “Gone, just like that.”
I suck on my teeth as the wheels in my head turn. Yeah, damn right I’ve thought about having a kid before. Of course I have. And when I think about making that happen with Tansy, I can’t stop the grin from spreading across my face.
But that’s me. When I look into her eyes, I want to say that of course I can tell what she’s thinking. Because we just click like that. I can’t actually read her mind. Forget if she’s ever thought about having kids or not. The bigger question is, does she want kids with me?
Does she even want to keep this—what “this” is—going? Being my fake fiancée is one thing. Jumping into my bed is another thing. Hell, even legally getting married—even if it’s something we’re both feeling in our hearts and not just to beat a legal thing, is another level entirely.
But having a kid? Again, even if it’s something we both want, you can’t ignore the over-hanging background noise: that having a kid cements my claim to this land. I frown. Not exactly the most romantic or auspicious situation to have a child together.
“Listen, buddy,” Brad levels his gaze at me. “You pay me not to mince words, so here’s the unabridged version. You can say whatever it is you and Tansy are doing right now—”
“I’m not sure I like what you’re implying, Brad.”
He shrugs. “Hey man, this is me talking as your lawyer. This is privileged attorney-client talk. Can I finish?”
I nod.
“You can keep on with what you’re doing now. But when—not if—Deirdre and Lorne bring it to court, your odds aren’t fantastic. If Deidre’s legal team plays up the age difference between you and Tansy, and that you’re technically her boss and landlord?”
I swear under my breath.
“Yeah, those odds get worse. Now, you get legally married, and those odds improve. A lot, actually. But best-case scenario, and this goes with the engagement thing too, it gets you two more years. And I’ll eat my own tie if Deirdre doesn’t come after the land at the end of that extension.”
Brad sighs. “Now, you two have a kid? Well, those odds get real good.”
I frown. “Odds? If I have a kid, I win.”
“Well, yeah, if you meet some woman through friends, start to date her, move in, Instagram your lives together, get married, and then she gets pregnant? Yeah, that’s a slam dunk.”
I glare at him. “So, what, because we moved fast—”
“Okay as your friend, I’m dropping the bullshit for a second. Colt, you might very well like this girl a whole lot. You might more than like her. But let’s not bullshit each other that this ‘relationship’ started for any other reason besides trying to buy some time from Deirdre and Lorne.”
“Brad—”
“What it is currently is kind of irrelevant, Colt. If Deirdre and Lorne dig, and you know damn well they will, and they find something that even remotely colors the judge’s opinion of you being honest about the relationship, you could still lose it.”
“You’re joking.”
“I wish I was, man. Stranger shit has happened in court rooms. You get the wrong judge, and they find the right piece of dirt that proves there was intent to defraud here?” He spreads his hands. “It’s game over, buddy.”
I let the air out slowly and sink back in my chair. “Fuck, Brad. Anything else you want to brighten my day with?”
He chuckles. “Plenty. But I think you’ve taken enough of a beating today. Let’s call it. Tomorrow, we can start talking legal strategy, alright?”
I nod and stand with him. I walk through the house, and I groan. Every single surface—every inch of this place reminds me of Tansy now. And I don’t even mean places we’ve screwed, those that’s basically every surface of the house at this point.
I look at the sofa in the living room and remember the movie we watched curled up together. The kitchen where we’ve made dinner. The front porch where we lay in each other’s arms on the bench swing, or had a picnic under the overhang when it was raining the other day.
It’s been no time at all. But somehow, Tansy’s managed to slip into every part of my life. And fake or not at the start, I know what’s real now. I know what we have is real, and powerful, and bigger than anything I’ve ever even come close to feeling.
In the driveway, I shake Brad’s hand.
“Tomorrow, Colt. This isn’t over by a long shot, so don’t stress. We’ll talk and we’ll come up with a realistic plan.”
I nod grimly as he steps into the car. When he’s gone from the driveway, I turn and wander around the side of the house. I walk slowly through the garden and find myself at the cottage door. I know she’s not home, but I open the door and step in anyways. It smells like her in here. It feels like her. I walk through it slowly, trying to imagine a life without her in it.
I fuckin’ hate that life, whatever it is.
In her bedroom, I run my hand over the pillow. I start to sit, when suddenly I hear the sound of her truck screeching to a stop in the gravel driveway. I frown and stand. But I’m barely to the door when I hear her yelling my name.
“Colt!!” she screams. “Colt!!”
“Tansy!” I roar, lunging for the doorway. But when she spots me from across the garden, I realize she’s not in trouble. She sees me, and she grins widely as she bolts towards me.
“Tansy—”
“I need to show you something!”
‘What?”
“I’m not sure, but I think it might fix everything.”
12
Tansy
I don’t think he’s expecting it. But when I crash into his arms, they instantly go around me, pulling me close. I press my face to his chest, inhaling his scent before I look up into his gorgeous eyes.
He smiles curiously. “What?”
“Nothing, I just—”
I catch myself. My lips snap shut before I can say the utterly insane thing I was about to say to the man I’ve known for all of two weeks. Instead, I lean up on my toes, and I kiss him softly on the lips. He groans and pulls me close
r. He kisses me back, and my heart skips all over the place.
“What’s going on?”
I pull back and rake my teeth over my lip. Then I hold up a flash drive.
“Um, okay? What—”
“I need to show you something.” I grin as I take his hand and pull him into the cottage. Inside, I grab my laptop and sit on the couch. Colt slides in next to me as I open it up and pop in the thumb drive.
“Okay, don’t ask me how I got this.”
He smirks.
“But, here…”
I open the image first, of the side-by-side chemical compound. Colt peers at it. “What am I…” He frowns. “What the fuck?”
“Recognize it?”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a slim case. From that, he pulls out wireframe glasses and slips them on. I stare at him, biting my lip.
Jesus, how is it possible that this man gets even hotter every single day?
He slides my computer into his lap and studies the screen. “Yeah. It’s the compound for the additive to Mare-Mate. But,” he frowns. “Well, the one on the left is. The other one is almost identical, but it’s… not.”
I can feel my pulse quicken. When I read over the emails and saw the slightly different formulas, I had a hunch. But I need the man with the chemistry know-how to confirm it.
“What’s different?”
“This,” he points to a part of the formula. “It’s a similar function, but this is a different alkaline.”
“Is it for the enzyme layer?”
He turns to look at me curiously. “It is…”
I slowly start to grin.
“Tansy, what’s this all about—”
“I think I know what’s wrong with Chance.”
His eyes widen. “Yeah?”
I nod. “Yeah, except…” I look down as my lip catches between my teeth. Colt moves closer and takes my hands.
“What is it, Tansy?”
“I know what’s wrong, but if it gets out, it could destroy your company.”