Accidental Rebel: A Marriage Mistake Romance

by Snow, Nicole

  I hold my breath. It’s not all great news. Part of me looked forward to having privacy, so I could focus on other things, like the crucial data stored on my fake lighter.

  That barely happens. Her and the kids go hunting for golf balls again and visit a park next door, but even then, I can’t concentrate. Not while I’m watching out the window, checking to make sure some asshole hasn’t snatched them off into the ether.

  Making sure whatever’s silencing Keith doesn’t do the same to us.

  Later, I finally join them and walk over to the clubhouse. It looks like a nice, posh place for a beer and snacks. This time, Shane and Lauren end up with eight dollars each. I buy everybody this big order of brisket beef nachos to share plus drinks.

  Gwen smiles at me over her glass of wine, thoroughly pleased. Maybe she’s just glad her second day on the job – being my wife – goes down easier than she expected. For me, it’s a little harder, and I need a second beer after watching her pull that cabernet into her heart-shaped lips.

  I take another stab at the data again that evening, doing some research online, and sneak off to dial Keith’s number several times while Gingersnap has the kids outside. She’d found an old set of golf clubs in the garage that keeps Shane busy. Lauren’s nose is buried in another book she’d picked out of the dozens sitting on the shelves framing the big TV that hangs in the living room.

  An hour later, I content myself with the latest progress and try not to think about Keith’s mysterious absence. It’s bizarre how downright natural this feels, setting the table while we bake a big pile of enchiladas I picked up from the deli. Decided to keep it simpler tonight.

  That’s a lot like how it goes down the next three days.

  It rains a lot, and I try not to think of home. It might be the first time in my life heavy rainfall actually brings down the mood, the dull, somber landscape outside reflecting the hopelessness of what I feel like I’m wrangling with.

  The kids stay inside, content with sleeping in, books, and video games. I take Lauren to the library on Wednesday, where she loads up on a new stack of books using Gwen’s card, and grab them milkshakes and burgers again for lunch.

  Gingersnap goes to work and puts in seven or eight hours each day for Manny Dickface – who’s making me increasingly nervous since he hasn’t said a peep about our Ireland itinerary as the week grows shorter.

  It’s a small relief, having her away for a few hours. I try to conform to her schedule for focusing on my own work.

  Because I know come evening, my life becomes a terrible distraction every time she’s in the same room.

  That amber hair. That smile. That laugh. That pair of legs and palm-sized tits and luscious, round ass.

  Every last bit of Gwen Courtney slays me in a different way. It puts this whole charade in real danger because nothing good happens if I start sharing a bed with my fake wife.

  Fuck.

  So much for simple. I knew it never would be, but at least I have an idea where to start with rescuing my kids and then driving a stake into Mederva’s cold heart.

  But with Gingersnap? I’m at square one.

  And if I’m not careful, it’ll turn into ground zero, an explosion triggered by my own stupid lust.

  * * *

  Friday comes and the rain lifts.

  Small miracle I’ve survived four nights here without stress-jacking my dick raw to this woman, who won’t stop parading her body around in the mornings. To be fair, it’s not her fault ordinary sleepwear puts fire in my blood every time I look at her.

  She’s home by noon, happy to take the kids out for a walk, where they round up a few more golf balls to sell.

  “Don’t forget, we have to be at Mother’s by five,” Gwen says as they’re walking inside. “The kids decided Lauren would clean up first, then Shane.”

  I smile, knowing exactly what decided means. Shane’s all boy, just like I was at his age. Convincing him to take a shower on schedule is like pulling teeth sometimes.

  “Sounds good,” I say, giving Shane a look that says bath time, Mister.

  His smiling nod makes me wonder if my look was even necessary. I’m grateful they seem relaxed here, at least. After several days, we’re settled in.

  It could be a hundred times worse, considering our situation.

  “Daddy, Gwen wants to braid my hair,” Lauren says as she heads upstairs. They’d talked about it last night.

  Gingersnap follows her. “I’ll show you the shampoo you’ll want to use. Think you’ll love this stuff, it smells just like a flower garden.”

  My nostrils twitch. If it’s the same thing she used this morning, it smells damn good, all right.

  I’ve been getting faint whiffs of Gingersnap all week. I close my eyes, then pry them open and try to focus on my laptop again.

  Shane plops down on the sofa next to me. “I like Gwen, Dad. She’s handy. Don’t you?”

  Leave it to my son to find a loaded question and blow my head off.

  I hesitate, and not just due to my own obvious attraction. Truth is, I can’t have him or Lauren getting too attached. We’re not supposed to be here much longer.

  I want them to be comfortable, yeah, but this is temporary. In a few weeks, Minnesota should be a distant memory and an entire ocean away.

  “She seems nice,” I agree. “Can’t complain about a chick who’s a great host.”

  “She rocks!” He scoots back deeper into the sofa, scratching his ear. “She’s pretty smart, too. She knows where to find golf balls and always points us to the best spots.” He lets out a big sigh. “A guy could get rich living out here, you know, finding all these balls.”

  “You think?” I ask, smiling to myself at his simple logic. I wish life were so easy.

  “Yeah!” Nodding, he adds, “I’ve already made thirteen bucks, Dad. Not even counting earlier this week. Lauren made that much too. So that’s over thirty dollars.” He snaps his fingers. “Just like that.”

  I snap mine, too. “Just like that? Really now?”

  “Heck yeah.”

  He’s clearly proud of himself. I shut my computer and lean back next to him, stretching out my legs. “So what’re you planning to do with all your money, Richie Rich? Build a pool and dive into it?”

  He shoots me a glare so sour I grin. A thoughtful expression forms on his face. “Ya know, I’ve been thinking about that and...”

  Oh, he’s been thinking, all right. I wait to hear what he has to say.

  “You see, Dad, I think I could make even more money. If I just had a bike, or even one of those golf carts they have at the club, I could find a whole lot more balls. Bet they’re hidden all over this place. New ones probably get lost all the time over by the beginner holes people play. It’d be faster too because I’d be riding, not walking.”

  I nod. It’s pretty ambitious for our short time here, but what’s the harm in letting him dream?

  “Got a goal in mind, or are you just gunning for the Fortune 500?”

  His eyes grow brighter, so much like mine it hurts. “Hundreds is my guess, and it wouldn’t take long. Not long at all.”

  Not wanting to disappoint him, I nod. “You might be onto something, bud.”

  “I know I am, Dad.” He shakes his head and frowns. “There’s just one problem...”

  I lift a brow, but before I can say anything, his name rings out upstairs. Lauren, calling for him loudly.

  “You’re up, big guy!” Red adds.

  Shane leaps off the sofa. “Gotta go, Dad. You can take your shower after me.”

  “Okay,” I say, even though I didn’t know they’d decided I had to take one too.

  A short time later, after Lauren and Gwen come downstairs with their hair done and both wearing dresses, I figure I better change too. Fair is fair.

  Shane wanders out of the bathroom, so I shower, and by the time I come downstairs, everyone’s waiting.

  “We late?” I ask as they spring off the sofa.

  “Nope,” G
ingersnap answers. “They’re just excited. They really want to see my mother’s place and talk to her and,” her voice drops to a whisper, “that’s a good thing. Any distraction for Mother, I mean. We’ll take my car.”

  I can count on one hand the number of times someone else has driven while my kids and I are in the same vehicle, but I nod. Whatever.

  It’s a chance to get a better look around this town. Not being able to get a hold of Keith is starting to worry me more and more. He still hasn’t picked up or called back for days.

  Radio silence isn’t like him.

  Not something he’d do without a damn good reason.

  I just hope it’s him making the choice and not somebody else. There’s no room for error.

  Hopefully we haven’t overlooked something crucial.

  * * *

  The drive to her ma’s place isn’t far, and I’m in as much awe as the kids when we pull into the big circle driveway.

  “Whoa, it’s like...it’s like a mansion!” Lauren nearly starts hyperventilating from the back seat. “I knew she made it big!”

  “Sure is,” Shane agrees. “I bet this lady’s got security guards, guard dogs, maybe even guard lions!”

  I try not to roll my eyes at his vivid imagination. Then again, is he really so far off?

  May Courtney could own a few lions. She must have eight figures to her name, easy. There’s no way we’re looking at a house that costs less than ten million.

  It’s an estate. A huge white brick house with yawning double doors, all wood, more like a castle than a sleepy old farmhouse expanded to forty thousand square feet or more.

  The manicured lawn and flowerbeds say she must have a good staff to take care of it, practically on a daily basis. There’s not even a flower petal out of place, and the huge white urns beside the front door are full of them. Real ones. Fragrant already, even though some are still coming up to bloom.

  The huge front door opens as we arrive on the stoop.

  “Hello, hello!” Gwen’s mother says. “I’m so excited to have you all join me for dinner this evening. Come on in.”

  I get a glimpse behind her and grab one of Shane’s shoulders with one hand and Lauren’s with the other.

  They both glance up at me with apprehension. I don’t have to rein in their behavior often, but don’t want to in this place at all. Hell, I’m worried we might break something just stepping inside this place.

  By the time I’m done paying Gwen and her boss for their help, we’ll probably be damn near broke, so I don’t need some sort of expensive doodad or exotic rug hand-sewn in Antarctica ruined tonight.

  “Behave,” I whisper quietly, but with warning.

  “Oh, of course they’ll behave themselves like darlings!”

  I look up. May must have ears like a wolf for her age. Smiling at the kids, she continues, “You can call me May, or May-May. No Ms. Courtney and definitely none of that Ms. Court nonsense I only save for interviews.”

  “Mother.” Gingersnap snaps. Her eyes say she’d love nothing better than to follow that up with a behave comment of her own.

  “What?” May smiles innocently, holding out her hands to Shane and Lauren. “Come on in. I’ve set out some games you might like. Let me show you around.”

  As she guides the children across a huge tiled foyer, I glance at Gwen and can’t help but ask, “Why the hell are you working for Manny Stork?”

  Without missing a beat, or a single step while following her mother, she smiles. “Because none of this is mine. It’s Mother’s, and I’m no mooch.”

  Respectable. I get that, but it still doesn’t make sense to me.

  May’s loaded, yet her daughter’s car is older than my twins. The two of them don’t appear to be estranged at all, which only makes it weirder.

  We enter a large living room. May and the kids are at the far end, where a large wooden table, an elaborately carved antique, has game boxes stacked on it from one end to the other.

  “Wow, that’s...way more than a few games,” Shane says, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. “Holy crap. It’s like the game store at the mall. I’ve never seen this many in my life.”

  “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I bought one of each,” May says, giving a little shrug. “I bought us a few other things, too. There’s a couple remote control cars and jewelry making kits. Oh, and some markers and paints. Go ahead, dig in, it’s all for you.”

  Both Shane and Lauren look at me. So does Gwen.

  I’m so stunned I can’t even speak.

  She shrugs and whispers to me. “Mother loves playing the hostess with the mostess. She’s always like this. Just let it happen.”

  I give the kids a quick nod, then give Gwen a slower one. I did well while working at Mederva Therapeutics, real well with one of the highest security specialist salaries in the city, but nothing like this.

  I’m not a multimillionaire. One wall has a line of framed movie posters, and beneath each one there’s a framed book cover, blown up so huge you could read her name a mile away. No joke.

  M.E. Court.

  Here, at home, her name sounds more like true royalty than some author spinning modern day pulp fiction.

  “Miller, I took you as a beer man.” May pops the top off a black long-necked bottle of beer and passes it over. “I wasn’t wrong, was I?”

  “Nope,” I reply, taking the bottle gratefully. A drink will keep my head from spinning, especially a rich porter like this with higher alcohol content. “Thanks.”

  She sets the opener down on the table and picks up a bottle of wine.

  “My instincts rarely disappoint.” May pours two glasses of wine and hands one to Gwen. “Darling?”

  “Thank you, Mother.”

  Once again, she’s dressed in a flowery outfit, this one several shades of pink. May waves a hand to a long white sofa with matching chairs flanking it. “Come, let’s sit down. Dinner won’t be ready for half an hour or so. Chef’s just wrapping up the final touches.”

  I follow her over, Gwen at my side, my eyes drinking in how bright she’s blushing.

  “I also guessed you’re a steak man, Miller,” May says. “Ribeyes. Nothing fancier than Argentina imports. Grilled, of course, with sautéed mushrooms and onions and plenty of sides.”

  Goddamn, she’s nailed me.

  Did she make all this money writing books or reading minds?

  “Sounds delicious,” I say, trying to get over how weird this all is.

  I wait till she sits on the sofa and Gwen takes the seat next to her before I move into one of the chairs.

  What am I even doing here? I need to keep a low profile.

  This gaudy, outrageous millionaire dinner party shit is anything but.

  Getting mixed up with a famous author and her daughter? Definitely not the way to do it.

  Everyone in Finley Grove must know who they are. Hell, maybe half the state.

  My stomach churns. Even the beer I slug down doesn’t do much for the anxious fire raging in my gut.

  This isn’t going to work.

  I should pack up the kids tonight and go. Head for Canada. We can find another guy smarter than Manny up there to get us to Ireland. There’s still enough money.

  I know that’s just my worries talking, though.

  I need to get a hold of Keith. Make a change in plans.

  My gaze goes to Lauren and Shane, my number one concern since the day they were born. Before then, actually, ever since Willow told me she was pregnant.

  That’s the moment they became my responsibility, my life, the other pieces of my soul. I’ve never let anything come before them. The fact that their lives are at risk thanks to someone else’s filth and greed infuriates me.

  Far more than it should while I’m in this posh chair, guzzling beer fit for a king, eyeballing Gingersnap and her ma rambling on about books I’ve never heard of.

  Christ.

  The hair on the nape of my neck stands up, and I see the reason. May.

&n
bsp; She’s staring at me expectantly. Taking another swig off my beer, I take a moment to search my mind, see if I unconsciously heard whatever she said.

  If I did, it’s not registering. That’s almost as concerning as her reading me like nothing when it comes to beer and steak. She’s intuitive. Able to find her answers without even asking for them.

  Another excellent reason to make a change of plans fast.

  “Sorry,” I say, lowering my beer. “I didn’t hear. I was watching the kids.” That’s true enough.

  I was looking their way, where they’re totally engrossed in the games she’d set out. Making all of this harder.

  I hate depriving them of anything. I want them to have a good childhood, good lives, and they will, after this hell is over and we no longer have to worry about hitmen showing up to murder us or worse. But it’s harder, denying them the simple things, even though my main solitary focus is keeping them safe.

  “Ah, yes, I’m thrilled those little dumplings sure are enjoying themselves,” May says with a self-assured smile. “I asked what you do for a living. My telepathic abilities do have limits, Miller.” She winks.

  “Security,” I answer. One word, point-blank.

  Gwen looks worried, apologetic. Not her problem.

  May nods. “Quite the norm for former military, especially men who served in special forces.”

  My spine stiffens. What the fuck?

  How can she possibly know I was more than a regular?

  Gwen shifts awkwardly. “Sorry. Um, Mother’s years of research has made reading people a hobby of hers...”

  “Hobby? I’m close to an expert, dear,” May says. “Look, I know an amazing man who works for the FBI and a fabulous P.I. with military experience too. They’ve both given me several very helpful tips over the years for my books. Personality clues, key actions, identifying strengths and weaknesses, mannerisms and deviations. It’s fascinating.” May takes a long sip of her wine. Almost celebratory. “I’ve never hoarded my knowledge. Always shared what I know with Gwen for her to use in her writing.”

  Gingersnap’s face twists, tenses, like a secret just slipped out as I look at her. “So you’re a writer too?”