Pretend Love Romance by Penny Wylder
Rachel
I have no idea what time it is. Sometime in the middle of the night. I’m lying exhausted and sweating with my husband, who I love.
I love him.
The words are a revelation and yet they make perfect sense.
Clayton’s head rests on my stomach, and I’m stroking my fingers through his gorgeous hair. “Mmm,” he says. “Don’t stop that.”
Now that I know that I’m going to be here, there are questions that I want to ask. Things that I need to face. “Will you tell me about Evelyn?” I ask. My voice sounds thin, but it’s all I’ve got.
He strokes a comforting hand up my ribs. “You would have liked her,” he says gently. “No nonsense, sharp as a tack. Some people mistook that for her being cold, but she wasn’t. She saved her warmth for the people that she truly cared about because she’d been burned before. But even without a lot of warmth, she was totally respected and loved. She created this place, turned it into the community that it is now.”
“I wish I could have met her.”
Clayton sighs. “I wish that too. She took me in when I came here looking for work, already on my own and too fucking young to get any real job. I didn’t understand why she took me under her wing until later, but she gave me everything. Made sure that I finished school and taught me everything about ranch life.”
“Why did she take you in?”
Slowly, he raises himself so that he can look at me, and there’s kindness in his gaze. “Because she lost her family. She never talked about it, but I always suspected that her husband was abusive. He’d died before I came, but there were signs. And then her son…he’d cut her off. From the little she would share with me, the son had turned out a lot like the father, and it was painful for her. I think she saw in me an opportunity to get back a little of what she lost. And she gave me the family that I needed, too.”
I pull him down to kiss me. I’ll always be grateful for this woman that I never met. Without her, I wouldn’t be here, and none of this would have happened.
“That son…I’d only heard the bad things. I’m sorry if that’s hurtful to you.”
I shake my head. “It’s not hurtful, it’s the truth. He was an abusive asshole, though I don’t remember much except being afraid of him. Me and my mom ran, and when we made it to Denver we heard that he’d died. I still don’t know how.”
Clayton pulls me close into his arms. It is the only place that I want to be. “Then mom died when I was seventeen. I already knew that I wanted to be a chef, so I worked as many jobs as I could and took classes at night. When they would finally let me in to culinary school, I took out loans to finish. It may have taken me longer than other people, but I did it.”
“I married an extraordinary woman,” he murmurs against my skin. “An extraordinary woman with extraordinary legs. Even if they’re not quite ready for riding yet.”
I groan and roll my eyes. The ache is starting to subside, but I’m really not looking forward to that kind of pain again. Who knows how long it will take to build up tolerance before riding horses doesn’t feel like I’ve done squats for twelve hours straight?
But as long as the muscle pain leads to more massages from my sexy-ass husband, at the very least that will be nice. “I can be ready,” I say. “If you’re patient. I think it’s going to take me some time to get used to it.”
He laughs. “Of course it is. There’s nothing wrong with that. Besides, I have a lot more to teach you than just horseback riding. There’s archery and herding and all the knots.”
“Mmm,” I say. “I’d much rather you use the knots on me.”
“You bet that I will,” he growls. “Maybe I’ll make you wear some rope under your clothes. A knot right over your clit so when you ride the horse you think of me.”
My eyes go wide. The very idea is…hot. “You wouldn’t.”
“Make it so that you come while riding your horse? Yes, I absolutely would.”
“You’re wicked,” I said. “And cruel.”
“And greedy,” he agrees. “I want everything with you, and forever might not be long enough to teach you everything and take everything that I want.”
“Do you want my name too?” I asked softly.
Clayton looks at me. “As in, do I want you to be Mrs. Burgess?”
“Yeah.”
In a second he’s on top of me, crushing me with his weight and kissing me hard. All consuming. His hands are on my wrists, pinning them to the bed. The kiss doesn’t stop until I’m dizzy from lack of oxygen.
“In case that didn’t answer your question,” he says. “Yes, I want that. It would be the greatest honor of my life for you to take my name, wife.”
I grin. “You always call me wife.”
“Because I’m still trying to convince myself that it’s actually true.”
Arching up into him, I watch his eyes go dark. “What would help convince you?”
“How about I marry you properly?” he asks. “Not a rushed signing that was awkward and forced. A big party with a dress that I get to peel you out of at the end of the night. And then fuck you senseless after. With amazing food and dancing under the stars. Because you deserve a wedding. You deserve more than that.”
Gliding my fingers down his spine, I smile. “I’d love a wedding,” I say. “It doesn’t have to be big. But I want to marry you and see you not run away right after.”
There’s regret in his eyes. “I was afraid,” he says. “That kiss was more than I had ever hoped for, and I knew that if I didn’t walk away from you, I wouldn’t stop kissing you. So I ran, and I buried it deep.”
“I didn’t bury it,” I tell him. “There wasn’t a moment after you left that I didn’t think about that kiss. That I didn’t imagine what it would be like to have you touch me the way that you do now. And I wanted you so much, but I didn’t dream that it would actually happen.
“But Clayton,” I say, stopping him from speaking, “I want a wedding with you, but not having a wedding doesn’t make the marriage any less real.”
“No it doesn’t,” he says, looking long and deep into my eyes. “We start riding again tomorrow.”
I wrinkle my nose. “What kind of riding?”
“Horseback riding in the morning, and cock riding in the evening,” he says with a grin. “No excuses, we’ll be doing both.”
Laughing, I drink in the sight of his smiling face. “I guess I can live with that.”
“I love you,” he whispers, leaning in to take my lips again.
“I love you too.”
