Accidental Protector: A Marriage Mistake Romance Read online

  “No!” Both Noah and I say it at the same time.

  Judy glances between us again, one at a time, and then her jaw drops at the same time her blue eyes sparkle.

  “Oh, sweet Jesus in Heaven!” She grabs my hand. “Noah gave you this ring, didn't he?”

  She turns to him. “Now I see. You gave her this beautiful ring, you wonderful boy!” Clasping her hands in front of her as tightly as her radiant smile, she says, “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! This is exactly what I prayed for. What we need. Good news. Happiness!”

  I glance at Noah, who scratches his head, staring at the ground. He's thinking, but it's not fast enough for his roadrunner aunt.

  Judy grabs my shoulders, clasps me in a bear hug that's too powerful for her soft frame, tears welling in her eyes.

  “Come here, you sweet thing! This is the b-e-s-t news I could've hoped for!”

  I have to hug her back, even as I stare at Noah over her shoulder. Silently telling him to do something. Say something. Please.

  “Aunt Judy, if you'll just give me a minute –”

  “Do you live here, Mindy? In Reno? Is that where you met?” Judy asks, as if not hearing him mumble while she releases me from her hug and grabs both of my hands. “Is this where the wedding will be? In Reno? When? Have you set a date?”

  I can't think, much less speak.

  What is happening?

  She shakes her head. “No wonder I haven’t heard from him. Oh, this is marvelous. Simply wonderful.” She pauses long enough to wipe a tear off her cheek. “I’ve prayed for this, truly. For Noah to find someone special. It's the next best thing to our Jess coming home again. I knew he had another reason for coming out here, spending all this time in Reno. Call it –”

  “A mother's instinct,” Noah growls, scratching at his beard.

  Judy laughs so hard she wobbles slightly, and I catch her elbow. Helping steady her.

  Noah instantly arrives at her other side. “Sit down, Aunt Judy. Please. You've had a long drive.”

  “I’ll get you a glass of water,” I say.

  “No, no, no! I’m fine,” she says, lowering herself into the chair. “I’m just so happy. You have no idea.” She wraps a hand around Noah’s and looks up at him with her glistening, almost matching eyes. “Thank you, Noah. Thank you for finally opening your heart. I get why you're nervous, but son, there's nothing you need to hide from me. None of this. It's beautiful.”

  A strained smile crosses his face. Saying nothing, he kisses her forehead and glances at me while doing so.

  I read his kill me look and smile, letting him know I won’t say a word.

  I'll follow his lead. It’s up to him, how much he tells his aunt.

  “So, Mindy, are you from Reno?” Judy asks again. “Is this where the wedding will be?”

  “I’m from Scottsdale, mostly,” I say, answering only half of her questions.

  Her smile never fades as she admits, “I’ve never been there. Too hot for my blood, but you'd better believe I’ll be going now, if that’s where the wedding'll be. Are you planning a big one?”

  “You know I’ll never go for a large wedding,” Noah says.

  Judy looks at me. Her smile says it all. That it’s my choice, and he'll have to go along with whatever.

  No surprise, Aunt Judy isn't fazed by his growly strongman act. For some reason, I almost laugh. Maybe it's the stress, the insanity, the way our cluster-frick situation gets ten times worse before our very eyes.

  “We're on the same page. I prefer simple as well,” I say.

  “Oh, you kids. Ed and I were married right here in Reno, you know.” Judy rests her face on one hand, staring into the distant past.

  “A long time ago.” She giggles sweetly. “By an Elvis impersonator, would you believe? Rest his soul. Their souls. Ed’s and the King's. We’d eloped then, too much family pressure. And we were broke. Flat broke. But it was so romantic and perfect and everything I could've wanted. Ed died years ago, though. Trucking accident. Noah probably told you? That his Uncle Ed was a truck driver?”

  I shake my head, shooting him a look. Judy goes on, undaunted.

  “Well, he made sure we were taken care of plenty. No matter how tight our budget was, he always made sure the premiums were paid on his life insurance policy, just in case. Oh, I used to get so frustrated with him about that, how he’d say it had to be the first bill paid in his line of work. I’d tell him that I’d rather have him than all the money in the world. I still feel that way, too, but it wasn’t to be. His foresight was a blessing.”

  This poor woman has lost so much, I pat her arm. “I think your coffee's done. I’ll go get it.”

  “Forget the coffee!” she says. “We need to celebrate. For real. I’m taking you two out for dinner. Noah loves Mexican food. Do you? We can have margaritas, I'm a real sucker for strawberry!”

  I glance up at Noah. He gives a one shoulder shrug.

  I smile at Judy. “On one condition.”

  Judy frowns slightly. “What’s that?”

  “Noah treats us both.”

  She laughs. “I already love you, Mindy!”

  We leave the condo a short time later, with Noah insisting we take Judy's car so he can make sure it’s running all right. It’s a smaller SUV and the first thing he does is pull into a gas station. While the fuel tank gets filled, he checks the oil, coolant, and tire pressure.

  I’m impressed with his thoughtfulness. All the while not being surprised by it.

  Judy sits in the front seat, rattling off dates when he climbs back in after paying for gas.

  “What’s happening September eighteenth?” he asks, starting the engine.

  “I’m going through the calendar, checking out Saturdays this year,” she answers.

  He puts the car in drive. “Why?”

  “Because Saturdays are the best days to get married, silly boy! I'm so glad you two aren't real far along. You need my expertise, Noah.”

  “Yeah. Glad,” Noah echoes, his face showing nothing.

  I look out the back passenger window as we pull back onto the street, wondering how we're going to climb out of this can of worms. My family wouldn’t take the news of us being engaged – already married! – even half as well as Judy.

  I can’t help but think that's because they’ve planned my life for what they want.

  Judy, despite all the pain she must be feeling over her missing daughter, wants Noah to be happy. That’s obvious.

  With another bout of guilt twisting my stomach, I pull out my cell phone and send a text to mom.

  Sorry, can’t call. Spending the day with friends. All is well.

  I have a crazy desire to say there's no reason for me to call about the wedding, it’s off, but there's no sense in beating a dead horse. They aren’t going to believe I’m not changing my mind this time until the fat lady sings. She'll have to hear it from Charlie himself, after the little idiot comes to his senses.

  I send off a second text to her.

  I’ll call you tomorrow.

  We arrive at a restaurant downtown. The building looks old, and small, but as soon as we enter, the fabulous smells have my stomach growling. I love Mexican food. Tacos, salsa, enchiladas, chimichangas, burritos, fajitas, tamales. I love them all.

  Charlie didn’t. He claimed even plain old green peppers gave him heartburn.

  I grin at the thought that Noah is the complete opposite of Charlie in every way. He’s more like me. In several ways, including food. I bet it's the spicier, the better for him, too.

  The hostess leads us to a booth.

  “I’m going to run to the ladies’ room,” Judy says to us as Noah and I settle in one side of the cozy red booth. “Order me a margarita, please.”

  Noah orders two margaritas and a Michelada for himself, then waits until the hostess has left before he turns to me.

  “I’m sorry as hell about this.” He shakes his head solemnly. “She’s had a rough time lately. Never expected her to show
up in a million years, unannounced, and I...” He lets out a long sigh. “Fuck. I don't even know.”

  “Of course she has,” I answer, without pointing out the obvious, that her daughter is missing, probably dead. I lay a hand on his knee. “You’re doing the right thing. Giving her a minute of happiness to dry her tears. I don't blame you one bit.”

  “I don’t like lying to her.” I see it in his face. He's dead serious.

  “Hey, we aren’t completely lying,” I justify. “Really, we're more than engaged. We’re married. Besides, once it’s all over, you can tell her the truth. The whole truth.”

  His stare hardens at me for using that phrase. “She’s going to have to spend the night at the condo. By the time we're done eating, it’ll be too late for her to drive back to Redding.”

  I shrug. “I’m fine with that. Whatever has to happen.”

  “You’re being awfully understanding about all this.” He frowns. “Have been from the beginning. What gives, Lucky?”

  I’d changed out of my shorts and put on a sleeveless dress, as well as a light summer sweater before leaving the condo, and I pull the sweater tighter at the hint of confusion or mistrust in his tone.

  “Because none of this was ever your fault. We’ve been in it together since the beginning and will be until the end.”

  “No, we won’t. I'm getting us out, first chance we get.”

  The waitress arrives with a basket of chips and bowls of salsa. I wait until she leaves before saying, “Yes, we will. Just watch.”

  “No, Lucky. You’re getting out of this as soon as possible and going back to Scottsdale. Somewhere free from crazy assholes and family drama.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yeah, Lucky. Yeah, you are.”

  The air between us prickles, as fully charged as it was during the storm, but in a completely different way. Old Mindy might have agreed, his way is the simplest. The most logical.

  But the old me avoided conflict at every turn. Good thing I’m no longer that Mindy.

  I take a chip out of the basket and dip it in the salsa. Before putting it in my mouth, I turn to him. “Don’t start an argument right now, Noah. You won’t like the outcome.” I nod, encouraging him to look across the room, where Judy is walking toward us.

  I’ve never made idle threats. Didn’t have the gumption before, but that too has changed.

  “No one will like the outcome,” I say, then crunch my chip.

  12

  Almost Natural (Noah)

  Shit.

  This just keeps getting worse. This whole thing has already had a hundred complications, and now Aunt Judy is smack dab in the middle. And as much as I hate to admit it, Lucky might be right.

  Might be, I said.

  This marriage charade, or engagement charade, or whatever the fuck it is, has to continue. At least for the time being. I can’t twist the knife in Aunt Judy. Not after Jess. Not now.

  It's bad enough I keep stoking her little blaze of hope, leading her to believe Jess might be alive.

  I know it's not true, she can't be. Not anymore. I can shoulder the killing pain – barely – but Aunt Judy? Losing her only daughter forever?

  She's too kindhearted, upbeat, and God-fearing. I can't give her that pain, especially if I can't even bring her closure with a body, an end, or justice.

  Dark and powerful anger roils my stomach. She shouldn’t have any pain. Jess should be back in Redding with her, without ever having stepped foot in Nevada, selling houses and having the life she’d worked her ass off for. A life she’d had before Lucient thieved it away.

  The pressure of the hand Lucky has on my knee increases, and then she rubs my thigh, before removing her hand and telling Aunt Judy that she has to try the salsa.

  I can't deny it's good. I dip another chip into the bowl with the spicy habanero kind. It gives me the torched distraction I need right now in my throat to keep myself grounded.

  She gets it. Lucky understands, even if she pisses me off sometimes.

  How much I care about Aunt Judy, and Jess. Her silent support is more than I expect. I appreciate it, too, threats and all. Odd, because I'm a solitary creature.

  Always thought I was.

  Still, I have to do this alone. Lucient is too dangerous for either of them to be involved. I’ll convince her. Tomorrow. After Aunt Judy is back in Redding.

  After I'm able to look Mindy in the eye without wanting to fuck her brains out.

  The waitress arrives and takes our order. Before she leaves, Lucky asks for a fresh bowl of hot salsa.

  “You two really are a match!” Aunt Judy laughs. “Noah always loved the hot stuff like he could drink it. He even puts it on his eggs.”

  I read the question on Lucky’s face – why hadn’t we had any this morning? I shrug. “I need to go grocery shopping. Badly.”

  “No argument there,” she says.

  Her smile takes my breath away. Makes me wonder how it's even possible with the level of hard fuckery in our lives. It’s harder still not to see it and smile back.

  “I’m so glad he has you looking after him, Mindy,” Aunt Judy says. “Although he doesn’t like it, he needs it. If it were up to him, he’d eat nothing but scrambled eggs morning, noon, and night.”

  “Hey, I throw it between toast sometimes,” I growl. They both stare at me, then burst out laughing.

  I'm just as amazed I've made a joke.

  “Oh, I know it,” Lucky answers. “But I have to admit, this man knows how to scramble eggs. They're really, really good.”

  Her hand slides across the table.

  The demon thoughts inside me shift to dirty, dark things I damn sure shouldn't be thinking at an unplanned family dinner based on a lie. Like how bad I'd love to hold Lucky down, take her raw, rip that smile off her face with pure pleasure, and scramble her eggs into the next century.

  “I taught him. Old Bernard secret recipe,” Aunt Judy says with a proud wink before she takes a sip off her margarita. Another reason she can’t drive back to California tonight. Other than an occasional glass of wine, Aunt Judy doesn’t consume much booze. Never has.

  Unlike my father, who was rarely without a paper bag of the hard shit he’d suck on all day long. That’s what killed him shortly after I’d turned sixteen.

  We hadn’t heard from him since I’d gone to live with Aunt Judy. Then one day, out of the blue, we got a visit from a cop. There'd been an accident. A single car. It wiped out the entire guardrail before tumbling over the edge of a switchback, somewhere around Klamath Falls in southern Oregon.

  “Isn’t that right, Noah?”

  I glance up at Aunt Judy, having no idea what she’d said.

  Lucky laughs and bumps my shoulder with hers. “Don’t worry, I don’t like pea soup much, either.”

  I nod, instantly knowing the story Aunt Judy just shared. I’d protested eating pea soup at her house like it was torture. Swore I'd go hungry instead. Then, years later, I’d had to learn to gag it down once I’d joined the Army. “Full of minerals,” I say.

  “So are rocks, but you won’t catch me eating those!” Lucky says.

  “A woman after your own heart if I ever met one,” Aunt Judy says happily. “Don't get too comfy, dear. I'm going to make you try it sometime when you come out to Redding.”

  Lucky looks at my aunt, then at me, and we all laugh together.

  The waitress arrives with our food, and while she's busy setting the plates before us, Aunt Judy orders a second round of margaritas for her and Lucky. I consider protesting, or at least cautioning her, but once again, Lucky lays her hand on my knee, silently telling me not to worry so much.

  I relax a bit and finish my drink since a new beer is on the way for me, and then enjoy the hot, spicy food before me while the two women chatter away.

  Mostly about little things, like what type of cheese melts creamier. Who gives a shit? Cheese is cheese.

  My mind wanders, carefully dancing around the darkness, the miniscule thing
s that don't matter, till Aunt Judy’s stunned face has me looking up, fork in hand.

  “Opera! I just adore opera music!”

  “You do?” I ask, doing a quick mind search. Nope. I don’t have a single memory of opera music being played in her house. “Since when?”

  “Since my friend Mary Alice’s daughter, Julianne, started working at the opera house in Redding. She has a degree in music, too. An incredibly talented young woman with a voice like a lark!”

  “You have an opera house in Redding?” Lucky asks with excitement shining on her face.

  “Yes, well, it’s a historic theater, I believe. They do all sorts of entertainment, including some fabulous opera shows.” Aunt Judy’s face glows even brighter. “Say, you know what? Mary Alice’s daughter just took a new job, and her position there is open. It'd be perfect for you, Mindy.”

  I can see the wheels turning in Lucky’s head. And in Aunt Judy’s.

  I’m about to throw a wrench in both, when someone says my name.

  Turning to the edge of the table, I instantly recognize the tall, dark-haired lawyer. The very one I’d emailed this morning.

  Fred. Here. What a fucking co-inky-dink.

  With a sinking sensation in my gut, I stand.

  “Noah! I thought that was you,” Fred says, shaking my hand fitfully and glancing at Mindy and Aunt Judy. “I don’t want to interrupt. Just wanted to let you know I got your email and will get back to you about it later this week.”

  “No hurry,” I say, hoping he doesn’t spill the subject of the email. “Whenever you get to it.”

  “It’ll be later this week,” Fred answers. Then he shifts, leaning closer. “Say, Noah, if there's anything you need to come clean about, you don't have to be embarrassed. Believe me, I've handled plenty of these...shall we say, premature marriages?”

  Damn it. He knows, without me even telling him. I wonder if my lawyer is part confessor.

  “I'll give you a call soon,” I promise. Anything to get this over soon.

  “Will do.” Fred nods at Lucky and Aunt Judy before walking away.