Chapter 7

seven

. . .

River

M y phone dinged on the desk, pulling me from the spreadsheet analysis I'd been trying and failing to complete. To say I was distracted was a complete understatement. Ever since yesterday's surprise announcement, I couldn't focus on a damn thing, and it was all Cross's fault. As usual.

Gigi:

Excuse me, what the fuck is this?

The screen lit up with a link to the latest news article announcing my joyous union with Daniel Cross Jr., and I groaned in pure frustration.

Me:

Don't believe everything you read. Also, it's fucking early. Why are you awake?

Gigi:

I could ask you the same question. Don't try to distract me from my question. Are you married to the cowboy equivalent of Bruce Wayne?

I snorted at the mental image. Cross was so far from a hero, vigilante or otherwise.

Me:

He's more like . . .

I ended up deleting my text because I couldn't think of a better comparison.

Gigi:

I see those bouncing dots. Stop overthinking. Just answer the question, are you or are you not a married woman?

Me:

Are.

Me:

Apparently I have been for ten years.

Gigi:

??

Now it was Gigi's turn for bouncing dots. They went on and on, never delivering a message. Great, I'd broken her.

Me:

Hello? Was that it? The moment you finally realized I wasn't worth all the shit that came with being my friend?

Gigi:

Ten years? How have you been his wife for ten years without knowing it?

How did I answer this delicately? There was a lot more to this than I could divulge.

Me:

Let's just say the paperwork was buried. Deep.

Gigi:

And how did you find out?

Me:

Walker.

Come to think of it, how did Walker get his hands on the information? I didn't think to ask in the middle of everything else.

Gigi:

Well, this is a development.

Me:

I think of it more as a fucking nightmare, you know, since I'm in the middle of it.

Gigi:

Oh my God, you're like... living a romance novel trope. Secret marriage. Broody billionaire. Enemies-to-lovers. COWBOY.

Me:

Gigi, there is not an HEA in my future.

Gigi:

You don't know. It could be fate.

Me:

No.

Gigi:

But you loved him once. This is your second chance romance, baby!

Me:

No.

Gigi:

I say you give him a ride around the ring before you decide. For old time's sake.

Me:

No.

Gigi:

You have to at least see if the chemistry is still there. For science.

Me:

You are impossible.

Gigi:

Why are you so against this? What do you have to lose?

Gigi:

Is it because of the other guy?

Which one?

Gigi:

Your lack of response confirms it. Sandwich time!

Me:

Leave me alone.

Gigi:

Listen, all I'm saying is you're living out the fantasy right now. You have every single romance trope all tied up in a bow. OMG, forced proximity! Now you just need one bed. Just... do your best to avoid accidental pregnancy, okay? Apparently, no one likes that anymore, according to social media.

Gigi:

Personally, the breeding kink is my jam. I love when the men get all growly and ‘I'm gonna put my baby in you so you can never leave me.' And the pregnancy sex scenes *fans self* We love a man who knows how to take care of his woman. And who appreciates her no matter what shape she might be at the time. More, even, because she's carrying his child. *swoon*

Gigi:

I might have lost my original train of thought. *watches the train disappear in a sexy cloud of cowboy breeding smoke*

Me:

There will be no breeding.

Liar, liar. You loved it when Walker went bare.

Gigi:

Okay, but if there is, remember Gigi is a very solid name. It goes with everything.

Me:

I don't think my future son will be too excited about it.

Gigi:

He could be a little Gideon. Also, just G works fine.

Me:

Noted.

Me:

Wait... isn't Gideon Cross the hero in one of your favorite romance novels?

Gigi:

Maybe . . .

I couldn't help but smile. She was always able to cheer me up.

Gigi:

So if you're not gonna let him put a baby in you, are you getting divorced?

My stomach churned at her question.

Me:

I don't know.

Gigi:

Oh my God. You're still in love with him, aren't you? I knew you were holding out on me. I saw a picture of him. I see why you'd be swayed. They should put that man's face next to ‘smolder' in the dictionary.

Me:

Pretentious might be a better place for it. Or taciturn.

Gigi:

Methinks the lady doth protest too much.

Me:

I see your Bard and raise you a Mel Brooks. Don't get saucy with me, bearnaise.

Gigi:

God, I miss you and your jokes about Willie Shakes.

Gigi:

But seriously, why no divorce?

Me:

It's complicated. I'm not rushing to the lawyer yet. But we're not in love. We barely tolerate each other.

Gigi:

Well, if I've learned anything from the 462 romance novels I read last year, sometimes all that not getting along is really just denial. Maybe stop trying so hard to convince yourself you're not still attracted to him. What's the worst that can happen? Hate sex? You know how hot hate sex can be.

Me:

And if we just hate each other?

Gigi:

Then my brother will be there in a couple of days and will put the bastard in his place. You know how much Bear loves to hand people their asses.

That was very true. Bear was scary to everyone but me and Gigi. To us, he was a teddy. To the rest of the world, he was a grizzly.

Gigi:

I've gotta head out. Inventory calls.

Me:

Thanks for being in my corner, G.

Gigi:

I'm in all your corners. Also, I throw a mean baby shower... you know, in case the breeding kink gets the better of you.

Me:

. . .

Gigi:

?? Love you!

As soon as our conversation was over, that light she'd brought to my day began to diminish, overcast by the shadow of my reality. There would be no hate sex. None. Zero. Zilch.

I stared at the portrait of Senior and narrowed my eyes. "No grandbabies from me. Don't get any more bright ideas."

My heart gave a little pang, and my frown grew. As much as I wanted to blame Senior for this, I couldn't forget the part my father played in this deception. How could he do that to me? He had to have a good reason. He wouldn't just sell me off like I was one of his prize cows. I was their only child, and neither of my parents treated me like anything other than their beloved daughter. My family had been beautiful and stable. So how had this happened?

Part of me wanted to trust that there was a bigger decision behind this. My dad must've known something I didn't. And Senior clearly hadn't been a man who made rash choices when it came to legally binding contracts.

I read the article Gigi had sent in her first message as my mind spun with all the reasons they might have had for this union. Unfortunately, no matter how long I thought about it, I remained no closer to an answer.

"Ugh!" I growled when I realized I'd lost another half hour to this stupid article. There was no way I was getting any work done today. I needed to go outside and clear my head. Maybe go for a swim. Or a ride.

I know someone who would love to take you for a ride.

That little voice in the back of my head sounded a lot like Gigi, but I didn't know who it meant.

Walker, Bishop, or Cross.

In the end, I chose a walk rather than any of my other options. I wanted the fresh morning air without the responsibility of taking care of an animal as I put my mind in order. So, dressed in boots and a flowy white sundress, I snagged a cowboy hat and set out to explore more of the ranch. There were structures all over the place, with dirt roads that reached beyond my line of sight. I guessed that was natural for the largest ranch in the state. With this much property, you'd need a lot of people and equipment to maintain it.

I spotted the shirtless man before I noticed the truck a few yards away, music floating out of its rolled-down window while he repaired a bit of fence. I couldn't keep myself from giggling when a horse moseyed from the other side of the fence and knocked his baseball cap off.

"Oh, that's real nice. I thought you were a lady," he grumbled good-naturedly as he bent down and rescued the hat.

The horse came after his hat again, but Bishop stopped her with a gentle hand, pulling a peppermint stick from his pocket.

"You know what they say about the way a man treats animals, right?" I said, approaching him slowly while doing my best not to drool because of all the muscles and sun-darkened skin on display. I didn't want to startle him, especially not after our conversation about how he got those scars.

He turned toward me, a grin on his lips. "I do not. Care to enlighten me?"

Well, shit. I wasn't sure where I'd been going with that. "Um... I actually don't think they say anything about them."

His eyes were knowing, but he didn't press me. He just peeled off his work gloves and came over to where I was standing. "What brings you all the way out here?"

"Needed to clear my head."

His gaze traveled across my face, lingering on my lips before returning to my eyes. "Husband troubles?"

"You could say that."

"Did you know he was going to announce it?"

My heart fluttered at the softness in his voice. He wasn't hurt or angry, just asking an honest question.

"No. But like you said, it's better this way, right? It gives me protection."

"He should've warned you, though. No one likes to be blindsided."

I snorted. "That's sort of Cross's MO."

"You deserve better than that. No wonder the prick has stayed single so long."

"Technically he hasn't."

"What do you think your husband's gonna say about us?"

"Can you stop calling him my husband?"

"That's what he is."

"No, he's my . . ."

"Cross to bear?"

There was something about the way he was looking at me, a light in his eyes that gave him away.

"Did you just make a joke?"

"C'mon, that was pretty good."

"I'll give you that." I laughed, my mood lightening like it had when I'd been chatting with Gigi. Then I sobered a little and answered his question. "Cross and I might be married, but I don't consider him my husband. A husband is someone you love, who takes care of you, builds a life beside you. All Cross has ever done was tear mine down. Even if I decide to stay in this stupid marriage like you suggested, it will take a lot more than a piece of paper and some signatures to make him my husband."

"Well, that's good to know."

"Why's that?"

He stepped closer to me, his gaze darkening as he gripped the brim of his hat and slid it around. The move was smooth and practiced, like he'd done it countless times before, but it made my belly swoop. Especially when he leaned in so his lips could hover over mine.

"Cause it would be a lot more complicated when I did this."

He kissed me softly. It was more a greeting than a seduction, but it lit a fire inside me anyway.

Bishop pulled away before I was ready, but I ignored the instinct to grab him and pull him back to me.

"What was that for?" I breathed.

"Do I need a reason to kiss you?"

"No."

"Good," he said, feathering his lips over mine again before grinning a little and admitting, "But I did it because I've been missing you, and you look really fucking pretty today, siren."

My cheeks burned under his attention, and my lips still tingled from his kiss. "Why'd you stop?"

"That was just a warm-up. Come here, beautiful. Let's see if I can't do something about that frown in your eyes."

He gripped me by the nape and yanked me against him, our bodies colliding as he brought his mouth to mine. This time it wasn't sweet or tender. It was a claiming, and I put up no resistance. Parting my lips, I welcomed his tongue as he walked us back until I was pressed against the side of the truck.

"I want to touch you, Sterling," I whispered against his mouth. "I want to make you feel good." I could feel how warm he was from spending hours in the sun, and I wanted to lick my way down his body. I didn't even mind that he was a little sweaty from his work. If anything, it only made me want to do it more. Honestly, I just wanted him.

His eyes darkened, and I braced myself for his rejection. But he surprised me.

"Tell me what you want to do."

"Taste you. Make you come. Make you feel the same way I did at the gala."

Gripping my hips, he twisted us so he was the one pressed against the truck now. The way his breaths came in harsh rasps told me two things: this was something he needed, but the touching part of it was going to be a challenge.

"No hands. Please. I can't . . ."

"I understand. You're the one in control, okay? If you need me to stop or change your mind, just say so, and I will."

"Usually that's my line." There was so much desire burning in his eyes, it felt like he could light me on fire with a single look.

Moving to drop to my knees, I offered him a grin, but he stopped me before I went to the ground.

"Wait, not yet." He reached into the truck's cab through the open window and brought out a wool blanket, handing it to me. "For your knees. I won't have you tearing them up out here."

"I wouldn't mind having reminders of you on my skin."

The way he groaned had my thighs clenching together, wetness flooding my center.

"Kneel, baby. I need your lips wrapped around me."

I laid out the blanket and did as I was told, loving the rough gravel in his command. Hands planted on my thighs, I waited for him to give me a taste, anticipation racing through my bloodstream.

I knew he was big after feeling him hard and needy against my belly at the gala. Not to mention the tented shorts I'd witnessed when he was lifting weights. But nothing prepared me for what I saw when he opened his fly and pulled himself free of those jeans.

Lord have mercy. Walker had shocked me with his piercing, but Sterling was going to ruin me with that beast between his legs. It was thick and veiny, large enough that I wasn't sure I could fit him in my mouth. The tip was deep red and already beaded with precum I wanted to lick clean.

"God, siren, you're looking at me like you've never sucked a cock before."

"I haven't."

He threaded his fingers in my hair and tugged until I looked up at him. "What did you just say?"

"I've never done this."

Confusion flickered over his face. "But . . ."

I knew he was trying to figure out how I could have been with both Cross and Walker without sucking a dick. "I sort of jumped over that part with Cross, and then after... I dunno, it's a vulnerability thing. Seems more intimate than sex to me, and I never felt safe enough or close enough with anyone else for us to get there."

"And you do with me?"

I nodded. "You make me feel like nothing can hurt me."

"We don't have to do this if you're not ready for it."

"I'm on my knees. I'm more ready than I've ever been. I love knowing you'll be my first. Just... teach me how to do it?"

A flare of possessive male pride flashed in his eyes as his fingers tightened in my hair. "Open for me, baby."