Accidental Protector: A Marriage Mistake Romance Page 24

  “There’s more.” She scrolls through a few more screens. “I'll also take a look at the paragraphs that upset you in our prenuptial agreement.” She holds up a hand. “You don’t even want to know how bad he butchered that word.” Reading again, she says, “And I promise to maybe consider changing some of the wording.”

  I almost laugh. “Let me get this straight? Promise to maybe consider changing?”

  She nods. “Yep.”

  “Didn't know the little prick needed a brain transplant, too.” Smiling, I add, “Your little prick.”

  “Shut up,” she says, tossing the phone on the table.

  “You’re the one who said he was yours.”

  “And you know that’s not what I meant.”

  I do know. I knew it then, and I know it now. Leaning back in the chair, so my eyes won’t try to wander to her tits every time I look at her, I say, “So, your family doesn’t know your married?”

  “No. Assuming he wasn't lying through his teeth, which is, well, always a possibility.”

  I glance at the closed computer. I still hadn’t sent the email to Fred.

  Considering the heavy shit on my mind before Lucient’s call, I can't. Not yet. Maybe not ever, if I can convince her to stay.

  “Did you mean what you said at Martha's place? About not running back to Scottsdale, whenever this is over?”

  She huffs out a breath and leans her head back. “I don’t know, Noah. I don’t want to. My life has changed since I came here. I’ve changed.” She flops her head sideways, glances at me. “I think I’d like to travel. See what else is out there.” She rolls her head back and closes her eyes. “Maybe attend some operas. Real operas in New York or Seattle or overseas.”

  “Where are the best operas in the world?”

  “Italy,” she answers immediately. “Then France, Russia, Austria, and England. At least, those are the ones I’ve dreamed of seeing, and in that order.”

  I nod. There's another problem with Fred I haven't discussed. My will. I've got money, a lot of it stored up from too much work and no play over the last few years.

  If something ever did happen to me, I'd want it split with Aunt Judy and someone who'd use it on living. She’d have the money to do all that, if I left it to her. I swallow hard at having such a morbid thought. I’m not looking forward to dying, most certainly not at the hands of Mr. Fuckface.

  “We'll go those places,” I say, shocking myself. “I'll take you, Mindy.”

  Her, too, from the way she snaps her head around to do a double take.

  I don’t know why I said that, but I had, and I decide I mean it. “You heard me, darlin'. We’ll take a nice long vacation after all this. Hit up a few of the opera houses on your list.”

  Huffing out a breath, she bounds forward in her chair and throws her arms in the air. “That, right there, might be the real reason I couldn’t sleep.”

  I try to remain serious, even as my fool heart knows better. “Because you were thinking about opera houses?”

  “No.” She tosses me a steely-eyed grimace. “You know what I mean.”

  Reaching over, I take her hand and squeeze it like mad. “You couldn’t sleep because you were thinking of me.”

  “Us,” she says. “I was thinking about us, Noah, and this mess we’re in. About how we'll ever find our way out of it.” Twisting in her chair, she shakes her head. “Seriously, we don’t even know why that guy drugged us.”

  Dread, as cold as ice, washes over me. “I do.”

  “You do?”

  “Maybe. I have a theory.”

  I’m not exactly sure when I figured it out, but I have, and it’s the only thing that makes sense. It's been simmering in the back of my brain for days.

  “He wanted to distract me, get me off his tail. A marriage would do that. Lucient knew I’d either have to spend time and effort divorcing you or protecting you from his evil ass. Either way, the fucker got what he wanted. A diversion. An Achilles’ heel.”

  “So I’m an Achilles’ heel now?”

  I thread my fingers between hers, so our palms touch. “Don’t mean that as an insult, darlin'.”

  Looking her straight in the eye, I pray she sees the depth of my honesty. “Listen, Lucky...there are very few people that could've made his scheme work, without making it a thousand times worse. I can’t imagine –” I have to swallow against the burn in the back of my throat. “I know there’s not another woman on this earth who could've made things work out like this, showing how to make something from nothing. Showing off exactly how we can do it, and how damn real it can be.”

  Her teeth graze her bottom lip as she squeezes my hand. Blinking, she presses her other hand against her nose as she sniffles.

  Then she asks, “How did he know that about us, Noah?” Lifting our hands, she presses her lips to our twined fingers. “How'd he know this means anything?”

  We're both sitting on the edge of our chairs, facing each other. Whether either of us want to admit it or not, we can’t deny there’s something electric here.

  Something powerful, as old as the mountains, just like the Sierra Nevadas scattering the moonlight in the distance. I lean forward, and so does she, our foreheads pressing together.

  “Don’t know, Lucky,” I admit. “I honestly don’t.”

  It's a vicious twist of fate, allowing a demon to play matchmaker, and be so damn good at it.

  She lets out a heavy sigh, and then leans backward. “Well, I think he must be an awful, awful man, one who doesn’t deserve any credit, any...” She shrugs. “Anything. But I don’t regret what's happened between us. Not even the drugging. Or the fear. Or the fights.”

  Her declaration doesn’t surprise me.

  She’s spent years putting others before herself. I’m glad how much she’s emboldened herself, put all that behind. My hope is that it continues with me. Ideally, forever.

  “I don’t regret it either, darlin'.” I have to be honest with her. “But I’m still going to take him down. Destroy this monster who's keeping us from everything we found out we wanted by having him on our asses.”

  “Whatever it takes,” she agrees. “I'm with you. Always.”

  19

  Fool Proof (Mindy)

  Once again, the sky lights up with a billion fiery sparks.

  This time it’s red, white, and blue, and the boom of the mortar exploding vibrates off the mountainside behind us, repeating itself over and over. Watching fireworks like this, lying on our backs on a hillside, just the two of us, has been utterly splendid.

  I’ve never been so content.

  I’ve never made love under fireworks before either, until tonight. Halfway through the show, Noah's soft kisses turn fierce and irresistible. It isn't long before he has me flat on my back, legs wrapped around him, driving into me.

  Every delicious pull of his hips against mine ignites more fire than the starry blaze above. I run my hand across his face, taking his tongue deep, going over the edge. He growls into my mouth when he comes, fucking his O into me, using my body for his pleasure and my soul for his release.

  God, do I love this bulldozer man.

  Lying out in the open naked after, enjoying the afterglow, is also new. I still have to put my shirt on, but it’s so hot, I linger for a few moments with just my bare skin kissing the night.

  Luckily, there aren't any biting insects out tonight. One of the advantages of living in the desert, unlike my uncle's place in Minnesota, where the mosquitoes swarm thick as the summer air.

  Using his shoulder as a pillow, I trace a fingertip along the outline of a tattoo on one of his pecks. It’s an eagle in flight, with the American flag waving behind it.

  “Have you brought other girls up here?” I ask, truly wanting to know.

  He gives me a gentle squeeze and kisses the top of my head. “No. Just you, Lucky. First and last.”

  My heart does a dive in my chest at that phrase. Wow.

  This is really turning into something, isn't
it?

  “How’d you find it, anyway? It’s so secluded up here.” I plant a tiny kiss on his warm skin as another volley of fireworks weaves fire in the sky. “Pretty romantic.”

  “Romantic?”

  “Yes, romantic,” I repeat, watching yet another splash of bright color fade into the stars.

  He chuckles. “I remember it from being a kid. My old man and I camped out this way for a couple of months one time.”

  I twist so I can lift my head in order to look at him. “A couple months? Why?”

  He smiles, but it’s clearly a cover-up for the bitterness in his eyes. “He had to buckle down and work for a couple of months to make enough money so we could move on back to California. Called this shit a 'safari,' like it was supposed to be fun. For about a week, maybe it was, but it didn't take long to get sick of it. He bitched nonstop, too. Doing too many days of honest work in Reno construction put a real sour crimp in his busy schedule boozing and chasing skirt.”

  My chest tightens. “How old were you?”

  “Seven or eight, probably.”

  “Were you...homeless?” I bite my lip, wishing that thought hadn’t blurted itself out with such disdain. My heart hurts when I imagine that kid I'd seen in the photos, being dragged around by a man who treated him more like a burden than a son.

  “Sure. If you mean we didn’t have a regular place to live.” Another boom sounds, followed by a candle-lit sky. “Doesn't bother me none. I'd like to think it helped me get used to roughing it out real quick. We had a pickup with a topper for a few years. It's not like I was ever sleeping in the elements.”

  “What about school?”

  “Fuck, I couldn’t even begin to name the places I attended to save my life. When I went to live with Aunt Judy, I was so far behind it took me two full summers to catch up.”

  “I'm so sorry.” My heart was nearly breaking for him.

  “No need to be, darlin'. I'll never be reciting Homer line-by-line, but shitfire, sometimes I think getting held back a bit helped me appreciate book learning more. I read more than you'd think. Mostly just history and religion.”

  I quirk an eyebrow. “Religion? Hm, you don't strike me as the –”

  “I'm not. Never been a church going man like my aunt, bless her soul, if that's what you mean. I do believe in something greater. Believe in evil trying to fuck it all up, too. Those ancient guys were onto something if you ever read about the crazy philosophies floating around Rome. Oh yeah, that reminds me, I love the hell out of Philip K. Dick, too. He wrote about this stuff plenty, good and evil. I could read that heady sci-fi shit all day.”

  “I like mysteries and romance. But lucky you, I do love a good history novel.” I tighten my fingers in his.

  “Noted.” He grins and kisses me. “We were here during the Fourth of July once, I think. I laid up here and watched the fireworks, utterly amazed. I was thinking about it the other day, and wanted you to see them.”

  “I'm glad you did. They're amazing up here,” I admit. So is he, having to overcome so many obstacles.

  “First time I remember seeing fireworks, too, and really enjoying them. I’d probably seen some before then, but I'd never settled down and watched till that night.”

  “With your dad?”

  “No, alone. He wasn’t here. Off trying to score some pussy at this dive bar ten or fifteen miles up the road.”

  The thought of a little boy up here alone at night frightens me, saddens me. “Did he work nights?”

  “No. Real early mornings. That night, he left while it was dusk after sleeping off his work woes, and must've come back here after the show, after I was long asleep. Don’t really remember that part. Don't care to.” His eyes are on the sky as another burst happens.

  “I just remember this.” Another boom splits the sky, then another, and another, in quick succession. “The grand finale. Here we go, Lucky.”

  I lay my head back on his shoulder, nestling in, and watch as multiple fireworks arc into the sky, bursting apart; two, three, four and more at a time.

  It’s a true work of art in its own right, perfectly synchronized, the many colors so well-orchestrated it almost takes my breath away. But my attention, and heart, aren’t on the show like they were before.

  Sad, cryptic pieces of Noah's childhood stay with me, heavy on my heart.

  I can’t imagine the life he had. My time as a kid was a walk in the park compared to his.

  I think of the future, too, and how I wish it could be just like this. Happy and carefree and honest. Forever.

  When the thunder and artificial lightning sparks finally end, and the last of the lights fizzle out, leaving a smoky impression behind, I sit up. “Have you heard from your lawyer yet?”

  I’ve put off asking him about the divorce, for various reasons, including the fact that most of the time, it's nowhere in my thoughts. Intentionally.

  He sits up beside me. “Fred? Yeah, I did.”

  I wait.

  He smiles slowly.

  My heart does a complete somersault when I start to read his very deliberate silence.

  He knows it because he laughs.

  I pinch his chin and give him a quick kiss. “Ass. C'mon, what'd he say?”

  “He sent me the paperwork.” He grabs his t-shirt and pulls it over his head.

  I grasp the hem of his shirt, pull it down over his chest, and twist it straight. “And?”

  “And...” He repeats, picking up my blouse and holding it out for me to put my arms in the sleeve holes. “All we have to do is send it back with a check. Easy as pie.”

  I contemplate the true ease of that while putting my arms in my blouse, and then watch as he begins to slip the buttons through the button holes from the bottom up. “Is there a deadline? A schedule or –”

  “Why? You in a rush?” His fingers pause on the button below my breasts.

  My nipples are tingling at the closeness of his hands. I just can’t seem to get enough of him.

  “I don’t know. Not really, I mean. I was just thinking that maybe we could put it off for a while longer.” He’s watching me, closely, and though he’s smiling, I’m not overly sure if that’s because of where his hands are, or if he seriously agrees. “Give us a little time to decompress after all this ends.”

  He starts buttoning my shirt again, without a word, and intuition forms a rock in my stomach.

  I grasp his hands. It hits me he's on the same page, waiting for the divorce, maybe disregarding it all together, except for one horrific roadblock.

  “You’re worried about tonight.” Holding on tighter, I say, “It’s going to be fine, Noah. I –”

  “You aren’t coming with me, Lucky. I have to go alone.”

  I knew he’d agreed to having me with too fast. After he told me he’d heard from Lucient and was meeting him tonight. “Yes, I am. Remember our chat earlier?”

  “No. It’s too damn dangerous, too –”

  “Late,” I tell him, stopping his litany.

  I stand and finish buttoning my blouse, then grab the blanket off the ground and head for the truck. The fact he’s been torn up about the meeting with Lucient since last night hasn’t eluded me.

  He’s scared to take me with, for good reason, and afraid to leave me behind all alone, too.

  I hate being a burden, knowing if he’d just accept it, I could help him.

  We arrive at the truck at the same time. He puts the cooler and the bag of snacks behind the driver’s seat, while I climb in and toss the blanket behind the seat.

  “We’ve already decided I'm staying with you tonight,” I say, slamming the door. “That won’t change. So let's do this.”

  “Too fucking dangerous. I don’t trust him and –”

  “I know you don’t. I don’t either.” I’m also scared shitless, if I'm being totally honest, but I don’t want him going off by himself. I can't. Won’t let him go alone. “We’d decided last night that I’d go with you, stay in the truck, hide behind the seat if
needed, but I'm coming. Nothing else makes sense and you know it.”

  He starts the truck, slapping the wheel hard enough to be noticeable. “Fuck. I think my mind was on other things when I agreed to that.”

  Mine was, too. We were in bed. Repeating what had happened at Martha’s apartment, this time with a whole box of condoms. “Were you under duress?”

  “Define 'duress.'”

  I laugh. “Don’t try to say I coerced you. Seduced you into agreeing to something you wish you hadn't. You remember why, right? You were too worried about me back in Reno, alone, and –”

  “I know,” he growls.

  His expression says he remembers, even if he doesn't want to. Then he shakes his head and turns to guide the truck down the mountainside, toward the inevitable.

  It had been light out when we drove up, making our own road on dicey gravel for part of the way. I can barely see the tire tracks we’d left in the grass a couple of hours ago. Our conversation isn’t over, but I’ll let it be on hold until we're on the gravel road that'll take us back to the highway leading to town.

  He takes it slow, picking a route around boulders and skirting the steep cliffs.

  I let out a sigh of relief when we finally roll onto the gravel road. “How'd you remember where to turn after all these years?”

  “I remember what the mountain looked like. Same way it looked when my dad turned off this road.” He winks at me. “That’s why we had to get here before dark.”

  The last few days have been just him and I, and all it takes is one of his little winks and my insides light up like the sky. Just as hot and dense and alive as the grand finale.

  He steers the truck around a corner and the headlights flash against something. A black vehicle parked sideways. I squint, trying to get a better view.

  “Is that...a roadblock?” Looking at him, I then ask, “Were we trespassing?”

  “We’re on public land, Lucky. No highway patrol ever bothers coming up here.”

  His tone is so cold my arms turn to ice. I watch how his jaw tightens as my stomach turns to lead.