Chapter 9

CHAPTERNINE

Jane walked out of the bathroom, the sight before me so fucking gorgeous I had to look back down at the linen shirt I was buttoning before I rushed her and ripped the dress she was wearing clean off.

“Is this alright?” she asked.

I kept my gaze firmly diverted and answered, “Yup.”

I let that hang and offered no more because the only thing I had beyond my short, one-word answer would have her rushing back into the bathroom, locking the door, and possibly calling the cops.

By the time I finished with my shirt she was standing next to me. The scent of orchids and pineapples hit me. She looked hot as fuck and smelled good enough to eat. Which was exactly what I was going to do if we didn’t get out of this room and go downstairs to get married.

“Davis?”

“Yeah?” I returned without looking at her.

“You don’t have to do this.”

Hell no, we weren’t having this argument again. It was settled or I thought it had been.

“We’re doing this,” I told her and grabbed my tie off the dresser in front of me.

“You seem…”

Jane paused and didn’t go on.

It was then I made the mistake of lifting my head. The moment I did I wished I hadn’t. Pretty green eyes full of worry stared back at me. Her bottom lip was captured by her teeth and the urge to kiss the worry away overwhelmed me.

“I seem, what?” I stupidly asked, knowing I didn’t want to hear her answer and delay leaving.

“Angry? Mad? Unhappy?” she rapped out and concluded on, “Different.”

In less than twenty minutes I was marrying a beautiful woman, who was the sister of my sworn enemy, and all I wanted to do was tear the flowy white dress from her body, bury my face between her legs, and see if she tasted as good as she smelled.

Was I angry? No.

Was I unhappy? Fuck yeah.

“I’m fine.”

“If you say so,” she muttered disbelievingly.

I reached beyond the tie I decided not to wear and nabbed the ring box.

“Ready?”

Jane’s gaze cut to the tie.

“You’re not going to wear it?”

Fuck.

“Do you want me to?”

Her eyes cut to my chest and she shook her head. Then without warning her hands lifted to the collar of my shirt. The feel of her hands working the top button had me fighting against my body’s reaction to her touch.

Fuck.

We had to get out of this room.

“If you’re not going to wear it you need to undo a few buttons.”

Her hands slowed, her gaze cut to mine, then suddenly she stepped back, losing purchase on my shirt.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “So sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you without asking.”

Fuck.

She had it all wrong.

My hand shot out, tagged her wrist, and yanked her back. Her free hand went to my chest to stop herself from crashing into me.

“You look amazing,” I told her and watched her eyes flare. “So, to circle back, I’m not angry, I haven’t changed my mind about getting married. I’m trying really fucking hard not to tear the pretty dress off and give you sex hair in our official wedding picture.”

Those green eyes were no longer full of worry. They were full of hunger, a look on her that was such a turn on, I lost the fight against going hard—something Jane didn’t miss. But she didn’t pull away.

“Davis—”

“We need to leave this room, go downstairs, and get married. After that we’ll come back up here, grab our shit, and head out. After that we’ll find someplace to go to dinner.”

“Davis—”

“Baby, do me a favor and get your sweet ass to the door, yeah?”

She didn’t move her sweet, round ass. Instead she gave me a squinty, pissed-off look that did nothing to calm my reaction to her.

“Honey, do me a favor and stop interrupting me,” she snapped.

Damn she was feisty. Which made me wonder if I’d been attracted to the wrong kind of woman all this time or if it was just her attitude that made my blood burn and my dick hard.

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear when I said we need to leave.”

“Oh you’ve made yourself crystal clear,” she said and brushed her hip against my erection. However, she still didn’t take pity on me and head for the door. Though she lost her attitude when she softly said, “Before we leave I just wanted to say thank you. I know I haven’t made it easy and I’ve pretty much been an argumentative bitch since you found me but I do appreciate everything you’re doing. Including saving me from myself and not letting me pull my normal stubbornness. So, again, thank you.”

Goddamn, she was making it seriously difficult not to kiss the living hell out of her.

We needed to get out of this room…now.

“You’re welcome, Jane.”

“And thank you for saying I look amazing,” she shyly whispered.

Well that answered that.

It was Jane.

Shy, bold, confrontational, stubborn, full of vim and vigor, or scared.

The woman could run the gamut of emotions in the space of an hour, all the sides of her appealing. Except when she was scared and trembling. That wasn’t appealing, yet it was, only because I got the sense she didn’t allow herself to be vulnerable in front of anyone. And if I’d have to guess that included her brother. So in a twisted, fucked-up way, giving me her fear attracted me to her more than all the other sides she’d shown me.

“Now I’m ready,” she finished and removed her hand from my chest.

I immediately felt the loss of her touch and that made me seriously unhappy knowing the next time I got it we would be in front of an officiant performing our fake wedding.

The vows would be fake.

The kiss at the end would not be.

* * *

“You may kiss your bride,”a young, brown-haired woman declared.

I didn’t hesitate.

I moved in and the kiss was not only not fake but far too indecent for public. I didn’t give the first fuck. I also didn’t stop until Jane moaned, indicating it was time to break the kiss before lewd turned into vulgar.

That was a mistake and I contemplated going in for another kiss just to erase the soft look and fluttering of Jane’s lashes as she opened her eyes.

Fuck me.

“Jane?”

“Huh?”

“Babe?”

“Yeah?”

Christ, she was killing me.

“You can let go.”

Her hands slid out of my hair where she’d claimed purchase during our kiss and she jumped back. It was cute. It was hot. She looked to be in a daze and as much as I liked that I needed her to snap out of it before the tightness in my pants became visible.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Wright. I’ve already signed your marriage certificate. It’s waiting for you at the front desk. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

I vaguely wondered how Wilson pulled off a fake certificate so fast. Likely he’d called Shepherd, a computer guy we used from time to time if what we were looking for went beyond what Rhode could find. Wilson also used Shep when what we needed was behind some serious layers of protection, meaning the hack wasn’t just illegal it was seriously fucking illegal and he wanted to keep Rhode clean.

Jane thanked the officiant, I gave her a dip of my chin, then tagged my wife’s hand. It wasn’t until after I picked up our certificate and we were waiting for the elevator doors to open that I felt the sharpness of her ring between my fingers. A delayed reaction since it had taken that long to get the taste of her—not to mention the hazy gaze she’d given me—from my mind. Now the weight of the ring she’d slid onto my finger sat there at the base of my finger. A heaviness that couldn’t be measured in grams or ounces but in duty.

The marriage was fake.

But my vow to keeping Jane safe was a commitment I wouldn’t fail at. And if that took months or years to accomplish, I was all-in. I had a feeling she was not. She’d want a divorce as soon as she felt safe enough to do it. Evidence was suggesting I’d burn any such papers.

Seeing as she was who she was, the thought was ridiculous. But it was no less true. Jane Morgan—no, Jane Wright—was not the sister of Zeus, she was Jane.

Complicated, complex, outspoken, sweet, shy-at-times, Jane.

Multifaceted.

Like the diamond I’d given her.

Strong and unbreakable.

Dazzling and beautiful.

* * *

“Welp.”Jane popped the P and glanced around the small one-room beach shack that the man at the marina had called a cabana. “This isn’t the Four Seasons.”

If the smile she sported while looking around was any indication her statement wasn’t a jab at our new accommodations but relief.

“You good with staying here?”

“Oh yeah.”

And there it was, confirmation she felt more comfortable in a shack than luxury.

“This place is rad,” she went on.

I took in the sparse furnishings, all wicker, all worn and well-used. The small bed in the corner that couldn’t be a queen but was bigger than a single. The kitchenette that had the smallest fridge I’d ever seen that wasn’t one of those under-the-counter mini fridges. It was aging yellow, chipped, but by the sound of the thing humming I’d guess it cooled. The stove wasn’t any better than the fridge and the countertops were old and discolored.

In other words, the shack was not rad. It was total shit. It was also a place that back in the day my mother would’ve loved and she’d likely still love. The only vacation she’d ever taken me on was to a cabin. It looked a lot like this place only in the mountains feet away from a stream instead of the ocean. The days we spent in that cabin was the only time I could remember her being truly happy. Out in nature with her boy, far away from all the problems she had back in the city. My mom hadn’t called the cabin rad, she’d called it heaven.

My mother no longer lived paycheck to paycheck. She no longer had to eat whatever food I hadn’t finished at dinner. She no longer looked skinny and unhealthy. As soon as I could I set her up in a condo on a golf course with a small backyard because she wanted a garden. I would’ve set her up in a mansion, but she wanted low maintenance and a clubhouse so that’s what she got even though I wanted to see my mom set up in a palace.

“What are you thinking about?” Jane asked softly.

“My mom. She’d love it here.”

I didn’t miss Jane’s shock I’d answered honestly. Hell, the yesterday me would’ve blown her question off totally.

“Does she live in Idaho?”

Her question was tentative. Interested but not prying.

“No, she’s still in Phoenix. When we moved Takeback’s headquarters to Idaho, I asked her to move north with me but she refused. She not only has a huge circle of friends but she’s one of those weird people that loves the valley because it’s hotter than Satan’s taint, not despite it.”

Fuck.

“I’m—”

Jane quickly cut me off with a wave of her hand followed by, “You can make Satan jokes, Davis. Hearing his name doesn’t bother me.”

That was good to know but it bothered the fuck out of me.

“So she still lives in Phoenix,” she smoothly guided the conversation.

“Yup.”

“Has she visited Idaho?”

“After a month’s worth of research she deemed the weather in Idaho acceptable in August. She came for a week and loved it. But she loved going home to Arizona where it was twenty degrees hotter than Coeur d’Alene and that was during the hottest part of the summer.”

Jane smiled and noted, “Of course she loves it. There’s a lot to love.”

Now was the perfect time to ask something that had been bugging me since she’d told me that people treated her like shit growing up.

“Is that why you stayed in CDA?”

Her gaze darted around the shack. Not dodgy, not elusive, just contemplative.

Shit. Maybe we should be sitting for this conversation instead of standing in the middle of the room.

“I went down south to Moscow for college. It’s beautiful down there but I was homesick. I grew up in Coeur d’Alene. As shitty as people treated me, I couldn’t stay away. I wanted to go home. And by then my father had moved his club to Montana so I felt safe to go home. And…” she trailed off and looked uncertain.

“And, Zeus was there,” I finished for her.

“Trevor was there,” she corrected.

I clenched my jaw in an effort to not remind her Trevor and Zeus were the same person.

It was like she read my mind when she went on, “I know you can’t differentiate the two. To you they’re the same person. But to me, Trevor is my brother. Zeus is the MC president I want nothing to do with. Unfortunately, you’re right and they’re the same person so I can’t have my brother the way a sister should. But, yes, he was back in CDA and I hoped that I could make him see what he was doing wasn’t winning some stupid war he’d waged against our father. He was proving everyone right—he wasn’t any better than Satan. He’d become what everyone said he’d be. But it was too late. He’d chosen his path and he was too far gone to save.”

“But you stayed.”

She shrugged and mumbled, “It’s home.”

“Harley Jenkins?” I asked about one of her many identities.

“Trevor’s idea. When I moved back he showed up at my apartment and gave me a new identity. At first I thought he was trying to protect me by giving me a new name but I quickly figured out Trevor no longer did anything that didn’t directly benefit him so my guess is he gave me a new name to put distance between us so his enemies couldn’t use me against him. As small as CDA is, it’s not that small, and by then it had grown from what it was when I was a kid. A lot of transplants from other states had moved there. A lot of people I’d gone to school with had left. Sure, some people knew who I was and the connection, but mostly by then they left me alone when they saw I was trying to move on, and part of that was when they learned I’d changed my name, even if it was Trevor’s doing. I didn’t correct the assumptions, mostly because I had moved on from being a biker’s daughter and I didn’t want to add biker’s sister to that.”

“Jane Morgan?”

“I didn’t like the name Harley. It’s not that’s it’s a bad name, it’s actually cool, but Trevor gave it to me and the more I learned about what he was doing I didn’t want anything from him, especially something as important as my name. So I picked a name that fit and Jane was born.”

Jane had refused to stay in a hotel that her brother had paid for. I could totally see her not wanting to use the name her brother had given her either.

But Jane.

“How does the name fit you?”

Her eyes went to the bed and stayed there when she answered, “You know, Plain Jane. Jane Doe. Take your pick, they’re both me. I’m a no one, unidentified, faceless. And I don’t mind being that. I prefer being that. Being someone or meaning something to someone means you have to share. Sharing leads to people knowing you. And the one and only good lesson Trevor taught me is people are dangerous and should be avoided.”

There was a lot to unpack there. Jane was nowhere near plain. She was gorgeous, and from what I was learning, that beauty went beyond her outward appearance. But that wasn’t the part that bothered me.

“You’re not no one.”

“I am, and as I said, I prefer it that way. Anonymity is my friend. I keep to myself. I don’t have friends. I don’t have relationships of any kind, and when they start to form I make sure to cut ties and remove myself from the situation as fast as I can.”

I read and reread the file that Rhode had put together on her. That, coupled with Shep’s intel, confirmed what she was saying. They found no friends, no boyfriends, no roommates, nothing on her credit cards or in her back account that showed her going out to bars, going to concerts, sporting events, skiing, vacations, nothing. She kept to herself and now I knew why. That knowledge burned.

“That’s why you change jobs so frequently,” I surmised.

She nodded.

“You’ve been at the fence company for a while.”

My wife gave me a sad smile I’d give the entirety of retirement—and that fund was healthy and would allow me to live out my life not having to worry about money even if I wanted to spend it frivolously—to never see that look on her beautiful face again.

“I’m the only one in the office,” she explained. “The guys all work out on jobsites and I’m both the receptionist and the bookkeeper. My boss comes and goes from the office but he’s a man and by that I mean he’d no sooner instigate small talk than pry into my personal life. He comes in, gets what he needs, grunts his appreciation and leaves. Every few months he gives me a small raise and I think he does that because I don’t bring drama or bad moods to his office. I don’t call in sick because I went out the night before and tied one on so I’m too hungover to go to work and I don’t take personal calls because I don’t have anyone in my life who would call me.”

I believed her boss appreciated all of that but no boss would give out a raise every few months based on that alone, which meant she was also good at her job. But in the future she was going to be calling in sick because she went out the night before and tied one on. She was also going to be taking personal days because she’d be going down to Phoenix to meet my mother. And she’d take more because North Idaho had bomb-ass ski resorts and we were going to go as soon as it snowed. But before that I was taking her fishing out on the lake and maybe up to Rhode’s cabin in Sandpoint. Not only was it a kickass cabin but there was shit cell service up there, and since that was the place he took Brooklyn and their son to disconnect from life and connect as a family, there was no internet.

Jane Wright would not live the same life Jane Morgan had.

Not while she was tied to me and my ring was on her finger.

I didn’t tell her any of that.

Instead I gave her what I sensed she needed—a break from the heavy.

“As gorgeous as you look in that dress, why don’t you change into something comfortable and we’ll hit the beach before we head to the city and get dinner.”

Her head tipped to the side and she studied me. I wasn’t sure if she was ascertaining the veracity of my statement or if she didn’t want to drive the twenty minutes to Lanai City. Either way I let her do it.

I learned it was neither.

“I’d rather go to the grocery store and cook here.”

“We’ll hit the store while we’re there and stock up. But you’re not cooking on your wedding night and I’m sure as fuck not cooking on mine.”

Next I learned a valuable lesson about denying my wife.

“Davis,” she murmured softly. “That’s sweet but I’m kinda tired of eating out and I like to cook and haven’t been able—”

“Get changed, we’ll hit the beach for a bit, then head to a grocery store.”

Jane smiled on a whispered, “Thanks, Davis.”

That was to say, I couldn’t deny her. And if that earned me her sweet smile I was fucked.