One Night Bride by Marika Ray
11
Esme
I was hanging by a thread.
The second Remington got in the shower, I’d rushed around the room getting ready. I had a client call on my schedule and I hadn’t even remembered to set my alarm. Hadn’t even laid out what outfit I planned to wear that day. One delightful orgasm in Wyoming and I forgot all my responsibilities.
For the first time in forever, I’d almost wavered. Two more seconds of him kissing me and I would have turned my phone off and said to hell with it. I would have let him sink into my body and burn the fucking house down with the attraction that crackled between us. So when he didn’t stay with me, I wrenched that ring off my finger like a criminal escaping handcuffs. I needed it off me. I needed my brain focused on my job. I needed to ignore that little slipup this morning. I’d blame it on his ridiculously hot body pressed up against me. How was a girl supposed to refuse that?
I’d just finished a video chat with my twelve o’clock client and was currently entering notes into my database about her progress when the bedroom door burst open. I twirled around in the high-backed chair, having forgotten quite where I was at or what time it might be. Frequently, I got in the zone when I worked, which is why all my appointments came with an alarm on my phone to remind me to log in to wherever I was supposed to be at each hour of the day.
“Remington. What are you doing here?”
He had mud all over him, except for his bare feet. He even had the cutest smudge right across his forehead, like he’d brushed sweat off his face with a dirty forearm. He grinned, those blue eyes sparkling.
“Fence is done,” he grunted, coming over like he meant to touch me.
“Ah, ah, ah,” I warned, hopping up and backing away to save my precious emerald-green blouse. Mud didn’t come out of silk.
He stopped in his tracks, then held his hands up. “I’m going to take a quick shower and then I’m taking you into town for lunch.”
I frowned. “I have to check my schedule first. I may have afternoon appointments.”
“Come on, Esme. Live a little. When will you ever be in Wyoming again? Don’t you want to at least see one tiny part of it?”
He had a point, though I’d never let on that I agreed. “That would be lovely, had I planned ahead for this trip. But since you didn’t give me advanced notice, I’m here working. Besides, shouldn’t we use any free time to file that annulment?”
His face transformed from an easygoing cowboy to a mask of thunder in a split second. He turned on his heel and headed for the bathroom. “Check your schedule. Everybody has to eat.”
I frowned at the closed door. Somebody got grumpy real fast. I did check my schedule, though, and I had exactly two hours before my one and only afternoon client. I’d also put recording a new video for my course on the schedule, but that would have to be moved since I didn’t have my equipment.
When Remington came out of the bathroom in a fresh pair of jeans, a clean T-shirt, and the mixed scent of soap and cologne, there wasn’t much I could say except yes to his lunch invitation. His blue eyes must have some sort of magical power, that’s the only thing I could think of as to why I seemed to drop everything for him. He held the wedding ring out to me and I slid it on my finger, ignoring the way he watched me like a hawk. I also ignored the way my stomach dipped and melted, knowing it was a symbol of being his.
He held my hand as we left the house, helping me up into the truck, and being a proper gentleman. Hell, he’d gone down on me and then denied himself any pleasure just this morning. You couldn’t say Remington’s name without also thinking the word gentleman. I realized most girls would trip over themselves to be married to this man. And yet, I wasn’t most girls.
As the trees and open grazing land flickered by outside the truck window, Remington gave me a verbal tour of the place he’d grown up. It didn’t take long before we hit the edge of town, the little shops as quaint as Auburn Hill, yet unique in their own way too.
“This is my favorite diner. They have every comfort food you could ever want.” Remington looked over at me as he put the truck in park at a spot just a few spaces down from a bustling restaurant. “You aren’t on a diet, are you?”
His face was a mask of horror. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Did you see me eat lasagna and French bread last night? If I was on a diet, I’d have already blown it out of the water.”
His eyes heated, and I suddenly knew what he was thinking of. His brain was picturing me naked, up against the wall, in his hotel room, and writhing on his bed this morning.
“I think you’re fucking perfect, so please don’t ever go on a diet.”
Well, shit. My heart melted a fraction over the simple, yet heartfelt compliment. He climbed out of the truck and came around to help me down before I could respond. Immediately, he laced our fingers together and walked us over to the diner.
“Hey, Rem!” came a guy’s voice as we passed on the sidewalk.
Remington gave him a head nod, but kept walking. At the door of the diner, he pulled it open for me and gestured for me to head inside first. The place was crowded and noisy, but the smell of fried foods had my stomach grumbling.
“Remington Roth,” the hostess said with a giggle. She looked about as old as my sister Vee. “Table in the back?”
Remington shot her a smile, one I was coming to learn was his go-to for strangers. Or at least, people who weren’t in his tight-knit circle. He had a smile he used with his family too. It was open, carefree, genuine. I’d also seen a third smile he’d sent my way before he touched me in any way. That one was predatory and possessive, setting the blood in my veins on fire. Thank God he hadn’t leveled that one at Miss Hostess. We slid into a booth, and after the hostess spent a few more moments giggling and winking at Remington, she left us to our table.
“That happen a lot around here?” I asked casually, glancing over the plastic-covered menu.
He shrugged, not even picking up the menu.
“What’s good here?” I tried again. Someone still had his grumpy pants on.
“Everything,” he finally answered. “Listen, we can fly back tonight if you’d like.”
I dropped the menu and looked at him in surprise. He’d made it sound like they’d need a few days to fix the fence. Was this about my comment regarding the annulment?
“I don’t understand.”
He shrugged again. “Ruger’s an asshole. The fence wasn’t that bad, and our neighbor’s crew came by to help. It’s mostly done. I think he just wanted to see if I’d bring you to meet everyone.”
I frowned. “He knows it’s not for real?” Inferring, of course, to our marriage.
“It is real, Esme.” Remington leaned over the table, his heavy body causing it to tip an inch or two in his direction. “He knew I was looking for a wife, even if only temporarily.”
Alarm bells clanged in my brain. “Are you saying you manipulated me into marrying you that night?”
His eyes went wide. “No! God, no, Esme. I would never do that. I was just as surprised as you. I swear to you.”
I mulled it over in my head, wondering if I’d been duped. Had I been so caught up in how attractive he was that I’d let myself get taken advantage of?
“What can I get for you young things?” a lady in her late fifties asked, leaning her hip against the table by Remington.
“Georgie,” he said with a smile. A real one. “I’d like you to meet my wife, Esme.”
I tried out a smile, though I knew it looked stiff. I hadn’t prepared for an introduction as his wife.
Georgie pushed off the table and swooped in to give me a bone-crushing hug. “Oh, I’m so happy for you two! You got yourself the very best of men, I can tell you that. Better watch your back, missy. The single ladies of Glenrock might have it out for you.”
She took our order, giving Remington hell for crushing women’s hearts. When she left, I noticed his face was a darker tan than before. Almost with a tinge of red. Was he blushing?
A steady stream of people stopped by our table throughout lunch, both men and women, to congratulate Remington and to meet me. I heard stories of him and Ruger growing up, tales of good deeds, and even some flat-out ass kissing about how wonderful it was for him to take Killam under his wing. By the time we headed out of there, with Remington’s hand on my back, I was exhausted.
On the sidewalk, he took my hand again. “Sorry about all that. Didn’t realize it would get that out of hand.”
I shook my head. “It’s okay. I guess that’s what happens when everybody loves you, huh?”
His face turned that tan-red color again.
“Are you blushing, Mr. Roth?” I teased him.
His lips quirked up on one side and he got more red than tan. He let go of my hand and pulled me into a side hug that felt more like a head lock. He kissed the side of my head and then pressed my back against his truck. At least I hoped it was his truck. I wasn’t exactly looking. Not when the hulking form of my fake husband pressed up against my front. Not when I knew we were drawing stares from everyone walking by.
“I figured it’s only fair since I’ve seen you blushing quite a bit lately. Or should I say especially this morning in my bed?” he whispered smoothly.
My whole body began to quake with the need that rushed through me all at once. A simple hooded stare and a question was all it took to go from zero to take me right now against your truck out in public. Bejesus.
The clip-clop of hooves sounded to my right, the sound so foreign I looked away from Remington. A horse-drawn carriage was coming down the street. Two brown horses with white manes huffed out their huge nostrils.
“Shall I take my bride on a romantic carriage ride?” Remington asked, seeing what had drawn my attention.
I shivered, this time because the idea was repulsive. “Nope. I’m good right here on land.” Looking away quickly, I tried to focus on anything other than the advancement of those beasts in my direction.
Remington cocked his head. “Is my wife afraid of horses?”
I lifted my nose in the air. “Not afraid, per se. I just have a healthy respect.”
Remington threw back his head and laughed. Now I knew everyone was looking at us. He even wiped at his eyes as he tried to calm down.
“What is so damn funny?” I asked, a little annoyed he’d laugh at my fear.
He looked at me with wide eyes. “I’m a cowboy. A rancher in Wyoming. And I married a girl afraid of horses.”
I bit my lip to keep from smiling. Yeah, I had to admit he was right. That was a bit funny.
The goodbyes with Remington’s family had been surprisingly almost tearful. On my end, not theirs. All I thought about was never cooking another meal with Julie or seeing the way Grant looked at his three boys. Or seeing the way Killam hung on every word out of Remington’s mouth. Even thinking about never seeing Remington play with Ol’ Red made me rethink my stance on this whole fake business. I’d miss this family that might have been mine.
They, of course, probably thought I was crazy. Julie reminded me we’d be spending lots of time in Wyoming, despite Remington’s new house in Tahoe—which he’d found out this morning was going to be his after the sellers signed off on his offer—or my house in Auburn Hill. We were on Remington’s private jet right this second, headed back to my house. We could fly to see family any time we wanted.
If we stayed married, that is.
“Will you hold on to this for me?” I held my wedding ring out to Remington, who stared at it before taking it from my hand and putting it in his pocket with a scowl. “If Izzy finds me with it, I wouldn’t be able to come up with a plausible story. If you have it, she’ll just think you’re about to propose.”
“So, we’re married in Glenrock, but just fucking in Auburn Hill?” Remington asked crudely.
Something within me withered at the censure in his tone. I hated that my refusal of this sham marriage put him in that mood. If I was being honest with myself, the idea of staying married to him had definitely crossed my mind and it had sounded lovely. Better than lovely. More like a dream I was afraid to even think about because it was so far out of reach.
My business would implode if I suddenly showed up with a husband. Maybe, after years of cultivating a different tone, I could introduce a man in my life and have it go over smoothly with my clients and social media following. But to show up with a husband from a drunken night on vacation? Career suicide.
When the plane landed back in California, we were both quiet, too lost in our own heads to gripe at each other. It was dark by the time we got back to my house, the clouds rolling in from the ocean, perfectly fitting our mood.
“I’ll bring your bag upstairs,” Remington grumbled as I tried to reach for it once we entered the house. The damn man had refused to let me lift a finger the whole day. Made it quite hard to stay mad at him.
The lights flipped on, blinding us both. We blinked and turned to find Izzy standing in the entryway, a look on her face I’d never seen.
“What the hell is this?”
She held a single sheet of paper in her hands. The same one that had turned my life upside down. The same one I thought Remington had in his possession, not lying about the house I shared with my sister. Our marriage license.
“Oops,” Remington said under his breath behind me.
I was going to kill him.