Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“Shouldn’t we pretend to be on a honeymoon? At least for a day or two?”
The ring was too big, a Band-Aid wrapped around the bottom to save it from coming off. She played with it, twisting it back and forth. I’d walked into Tiffany’s planning on buying the cheapest one I could find and was all set to purchase a simple silver band when some misplaced sense of pride hit me. The sales person practically screamed when I told him to swap the silver for the flawless six-carat band. What was even stranger was seeing it on her now didn’t make me want to jump out the window headfirst.
She shrugged, stretching out her sun-kissed shoulders. Her chest thrust out. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t spend any more time in close proximity to her. The hangover was making me more cantankerous than a bull in heat. Or maybe it was the wicked case of blue balls. That wasn’t helping my mood either.
“Can’t. I’ve got work to do.”
Bottom line, the only way out of this rat trap was if she asked for a divorce. I’d planned to make life uncomfortable for her until my dick got involved. Attraction hadn’t even crossed my mind. That plan needed to be supercharged now because I had no intention of walking around with a semi for the next three years.
“We can pretend back in Wyoming.” With that, I turned and stalked back to my room. I needed to get home. But mostly, I needed to get as far from her as this hoax of a marriage would allow.
Sydney
There was a chill in the air back in Jackson Hole and it wasn’t just because a snowstorm had rolled into town while we were in Vegas. Scott had shut me out. We hadn’t exchanged a single word the entire plane ride. With his dark aviators on, he’d stared out the window brooding for hours. By the time the jet landed, I wasn’t sure he could sustain the pretense of this marriage for a week let alone three years.
After we shared wedding vows and a near kiss that had set my body on fire, he’d said, “Back to the honeymoon suite, wife,” with a dry bark of laughter. With his arm hooked around my neck, I somehow managed to get him back to the hotel without collapsing under his considerable weight. More than once, as I dragged him down the endless hallway on our floor, I’d mentally thanked my trainer for forcing me to deadlift as part of my workout routine.
I glanced at the quiet man in the driver’s seat of the smelly pickup truck that we’d left at the airport, his profile unforgiving. He seemed to have no recollection of the events of the night before. After getting him back to his bedroom, he’d begun stripping before I could make a hasty exit. And yes, maybe I did move a little slower than I should have. But he’d ripped off his shirt, exposing the cut muscles of his chest sprinkled with dark hair and a V adjacent to hip bones pointing to parts unknown, and my compass broke. I couldn’t tell you which way was up, down, left, or right anymore. The last image I saw before I closed his door were those blessedly naked buns of steel of his. One had to wonder what he did to get muscles like that.
The scratching of claws on a hardwood floor and doggy whines could be heard on the other side of the front door of the cabin. Scott pushed it open and motioned to the far side wall. “The inflatable mattress is in the closet. Sheets and towels too.”
What a gentleman.
The elephants danced around us, almost knocking me off my feet. Scott practically got on all fours to greet them. He spared not a single word for me, but for the dogs he frolicked like a six-year-old. That irked.
“Can you give me a ride into town tomorrow?” I dared to speak, hating to be at his mercy until I figured out what I was going to do about a car. Normally, having to rely on anyone gave me hives, but I was good and stuck. I hadn’t anticipated Frank asking me to stay a while, to lend the story credence. “I need to buy a few things before my stuff gets here.”
First order of business was to purchase a pair of Hunter boots. I walked to the vintage refrigerator and opened it. A few bottles of water and ketchup. Second order of business was groceries.
“Take the truck. I’ll have one of my guys pick me up.” It was more than he’d said all afternoon. “You get the bathroom first.” Without sparing me another glance, he walked into his bedroom and slammed the door shut. Welcome to marriage.
Scott
“What in sweet Jesus’s name happened to your finger?” Laurel called out from somewhere behind me.