Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

W arrick

"Hey, Mom, how's the ship treating you?" The background noise was intense, which was odd, considering it was eight in the morning.

"Good!" Mom shouted back. "I'm in the middle of strip bocce ball, Warrick, honey. Was there something you needed?"

"What?" I exploded out of my chair, running a hand through my hair. "You're supposed to be resting and rejuvenating, Mom!"

"This is rejuvenating!"

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to block out the mental image before it rotted my brain. Fucking hell. Leave it to Mom's sisters to get her into something she should have left behind forty years ago.

"Let me speak to Aunt Gwen." Maybe the next oldest among them might have some goddamn sense.

"Oh, I wouldn't recommend that." Mom paused, then let out a giggle that reminded me of a little girl. "She's losing right now. "

"Jesus," I muttered, pacing the halfway-remodeled kitchen. "Okay, I'll cut right to the point. I wanted to warn you that I'm doing something crazy today, but I promise you'll be proud of my intentions."

A whoop loud enough to shatter dolphin eardrums for miles in each direction sounded. I pulled the phone away from my ear and almost missed Mom's response.

"Oh, honey, I'm always proud of you. I just hope this something crazy isn't taking Bessie in to be slaughtered. She's a milking cow, Warrick. You just have to sweet-talk her before you lay hands on her. Finesse her, baby. Just like a good woman."

"I've got the milking figured out, Mom." The last thing I wanted was dating advice from my mother. I leaned a hip against the countertop. There was no finessing that heifer. Pip would simply have to keep milking Bessie and I'd pay her extra for the service. What Mom didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

"Well, I'm so excited to see the changes on the house! I told Gwen and Gemma all about what you're doing for me." The line was interrupted by scraping noises and then Mom was back. "I gotta go, honey. I'm next and that bastard Herold thinks he's going to get flashed. I've got news for him. I can handle my balls."

"Okay!" I tried to interrupt, not wishing for any further information about Herold or balls or strip anything. "Talk later, Mom."

"Bye, honey! Give me that ball, Herold, or I'll misplace your dentures and then how will you eat the meatloaf tonight, huh?"

I shook my head and hung up, knowing Mom had yet again forgotten to do it on her end. It was a wonder my brothers and I had grown up so normal. Though when you grow up on a hobby farm with the kind of parents we had, that probably explained why all three of us spread our wings and left town as soon as possible. Our parents loved us, that I never doubted, but they were definitely odd .

As much as I didn't approve of the stripping portion of the cruise Mom was on, I didn't want to steal her joy. She hadn't laughed much the last few years as Dad declined. She was due some levity. Which was why I didn't tell her exactly what I was doing today. I didn't want her to worry, especially when I had everything handled. She'd find that out in ten days when she returned from the cruise. News of my sudden nuptials could wait.

I'd spent all day yesterday making plans while Em and Pip worked on the house. My lawyer had also been working, drafting a prenuptial agreement that protected my assets, but also protected Em. When I placed it in front of her at the end of the day, she didn't even blink. She read through it, which made me admire her even more. No good business owner worth their salt would blindly sign a contract without looking through it. I even offered to pay for another lawyer's time if she wanted to consult with someone, but she waved that idea away and signed it.

She muttered something about her daughter being the only thing of value she had anyway. Which just about broke my heart. And firmed up my resolve to marry this woman and fight like hell to keep Georgia with her mother.

I straightened my tie and tried not to cringe at the stifling feel of a full suit in the late summer heat. I'd already gotten used to wearing jeans every day since retirement. However, with a nod to my new life here in Blueball, I kept the snakeskin boots.

The door opened and Em met my gaze for a split second before stepping back. I slipped inside her house to see everything in boxes. She was also not wearing the dress I'd had couriered to her house last night. Instead, she wore a clean pair of jeans, work boots, and an M Builds T-shirt. I frowned.

"Where's the dress?"

"I dropped off Georgia."

We spoke at the same time. Then Em frowned. "It's too much. "

I took a step closer to her, admiring the way she'd at least swiped on lip gloss and some mascara today, making her blue eyes look as large as a doll's. I tried not to acknowledge the hurt that she intended to show up to our sham wedding in work clothes. Yes, it was a marriage backed by a business contract, but she'd still be my wife.

And my wife wasn't going to wear fucking jeans to our wedding.

"Slaywright?"

She swallowed, tipping her head back to hold my gaze. Her long blonde hair was down. I'd only seen it up in a ponytail before. My fingers itched to reach out and wrap those silky strands around my fist.

"What?" she snapped, the fire in her tone dampened by the wobble in her voice.

I reached between us and pinched the T-shirt material right at her shoulder. "You look beautiful today."

Her eyes narrowed, clearly not trusting me.

"You look beautiful every day, no matter what you wear. But today you're going to stand in front of a judge and promise to be my wife. And I have certain… ideas …about marriage."

Her eyes blew wide. She swallowed hard again before trying to take a step back. I just followed, still holding on to her shirt. "I'm not sleeping with you, Dick!"

That stopped me short. I let go of her shirt and straightened up. "No, of course not. I would never expect that." Frankly, I was offended she thought I'd pressure her into something like that. Then again, we weren't your typical couple about to be married. We barely knew each other.

"Then what ideas do you have?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest.

Tamping down the irritation, I tried to see things from her point of view. I held all the cards. The court held the power when it came to her daughter. Em, a proud woman with more might and strength than most grown men, was probably feeling powerless. I couldn't fix everything in her life, even though I wanted to, but I could give her peace of mind about the decision today to marry me.

I put a hand on my chest. "I like to help people, Em. It's what I do best. I built an entire business model around it and it was successful. But I've also gotten burned. Selfish people like to take advantage of giving people. You signed that prenup yesterday and that allayed a lot of my fears about this whole marriage. So let me allay yours." I took a step closer and this time she didn't flinch. "You're about to be my wife, and I take care of what's mine."

Her nose lifted in the air. "It's on paper only."

I shook my head nice and slow. "Not in my mind, it's not. You're mine now, Emmerleigh, and for as long as that marriage certificate is valid, that means I take care of you and Georgia with every ounce of my being. I shower you with gifts. I make your lives easier. Anything your heart desires, anything you need, I'll make it happen. And not in exchange for anything. Do you understand me?"

She simply stared at me, the two of us breathing the same oxygen, sizing each other up. I didn't back down, didn't give her a chance to doubt what I'd said. She had a choice here, but once she was mine, I would do everything in my power to take care of her and Georgia. Em probably didn't understand. Probably didn't know that taking care of someone is what drove me to get up every morning. It's what underscored my entire business. It's what made me insane the last few years, wondering if there was more to life. More people to help. I was lost in a sea of questions about my own worth now that I'd retired early. Doing this now with Em and Georgia was as much a gift for me as it was for them.

"Go put the dress on," I finally said quietly.

Em huffed, but spun on the heel of her work boots. "Fine. "

I smiled at the back of her head as she marched out of the room.

"Quit smiling," she snapped, disappearing down the hallway to her bedroom.

Which only made me smile harder, of course.

While she changed, I went out to my truck and grabbed the bouquet I picked up at the florist in Auburn Hill this morning. I fucking dropped the damn thing when I got back inside the house and saw Em come out of the hallway in the lacy white sundress I'd bought. It hugged her tiny waist and accentuated her breasts, something those T-shirts had hidden. Her legs looked like they'd been sculpted by a master artist, long and curvy in the simple white heel I'd picked out that gave a tiny peep at her toes, painted fire-engine red.

That was the detail that had me shifting uncomfortably in my dress pants. She was all sawdust, paint, and grime in her work clothes and yet she'd been hiding a gorgeous set of boobs and red-painted toenails. It made me wonder what else Emmerleigh Slaywright kept hidden.

She looked down at the flowers at my feet. "Already throwing the bouquet?"

I picked my jaw off the floor first and then stooped to grab the flowers. "Sorry. I was stunned because you're stunning, Em."

I shook my head to clear it and held out the flowers. I quit gawking at her long enough to see her cheeks take on a pink hue that matched some of the roses in the bouquet. For being mid-forties I was certainly acting like a teen boy who saw his first pair of boobs. I needed to get my shit together and get us to the courthouse fast, before I had her running away due to my awkwardness.

Holding out my elbow, I waited for her to take the flowers and then slip her hand through my arm. As I turned for the door, I saw her face dip to sniff the flowers. The satisfied smile never slipped from my face the whole way to the courthouse.

"Do you, Warrick Wolfe, take Emmerleigh Slaywright to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

I hadn't taken my gaze off Em the whole time the judge explained how the ceremony would go. She, on the other hand, didn't seem to want to meet my gaze. She'd handed her flowers off to the judge's assistant, Wendy, right before the ceremony started. Her hands were trembling as I held them. I kept giving her reassuring squeezes, but they weren't having much of an affect.

"I do." And I took on all the responsibilities of that vow.

The judge turned to Em. "And do you, Emmerleigh Slaywright, take Warrick Wolfe to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do." Her voice was soft, like how she spoke to Georgia.

"Do you have rings?" the judge asked me.

Em inhaled sharply. I let go with one hand and reached into the inner pocket of my suit jacket. The two rings I'd picked up yesterday clinked together as I pulled them out. I handed them both to the judge who held up the diamond solitaire and whistled. Em gasped again, this time for a different reason. The three-carat diamond was probably more than a temporary, fake marriage called for, but I didn't do anything half-ass. My wife should have a fucking rock on her finger.

"Warrick," she breathed.

I held both her hands again, squeezing tightly. "My wife now, Em."

She chewed her bottom lip, but didn't argue. We said the vows and the rings slid onto our fingers, mine a plain gold band, Em's fitting perfectly.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the judge said with a smile. "You may kiss your bride, son."

Em's eyes went wide, clearly not having thought through this eventuality, but I had. Shit, I'd tried hard not to think about it as I lay in bed last night instead of sleeping.

I slid an arm around her waist and carefully cupped her jaw, keeping my touch light. What I really wanted to do was haul her against me and dip her over my arm in a bruising kiss, but I also didn't want her to stab me with the pointy heel of her shoe. I lowered my head and grazed the side of her jaw with my lips.

"Just once, wife," I murmured, right before I claimed her mouth, our lips fused together as my heart pounded. Em was as stiff as a board for a long moment, and then a miracle happened. Her muscles released and her lips softened, just a touch. Just enough to make the kiss believable and have me wondering if I dared flick my tongue against her lip, right where she had that small scar, demanding entrance to a place I had no business being.

I moved my lips, about to press my luck when her fingers, on the hand that had flown to my bicep when I held her, pinched the hell out of my arm. With a yelp, I lifted my head and glared at her. The she-devil had the nerve to smile at me. Her cheeks, hotter than the afternoon sun, had me hoping there was more to this moment than just make-believe for the judge's sake. I didn't want to be the only one in this marriage wanting to recreate that kiss when there were fewer observers.

Wendy clapped and handed Em her flowers, breaking the moment. My wife tried to walk out of the judge's chambers without me, so I hooked my arm around her waist and hauled her to my side. The little vixen let out a squeak of surprise.

"Let's go get your stuff and move you into the house, my darling wife," I drawled, letting her see the promise in my eyes.

She'd pay for pinching me.

And not in the way she thought.