Thousand Yard Bride (12 page)

"It's not even nine," he chuckled. "You're not inviting your husband inside?"

"Future husband," I corrected. Then I swallowed loudly.
Fake future husband.
"I'm not sure I'm ready to rush into this."

Taking my shoulders, he gave me a sideways smile. "We're very backwards, aren't we? Engaged but my fiancé doesn't want to sleep with me." I blushed furiously, Hunter just chuckled. "I'll have to work hard, I get it. I can do that. Working for what I want is the most satisfying way to live."

I was spinning, already fighting the urge to kiss him. Hunter backed away, handing me the flowers and hopping down the steps. I was a statue, I couldn't even wave. "Bye," I said after him.

With one more silent look that promised he
was
going to have me, and when he did, I'd love it—Hunter got into his car and drove away.

T
he next morning
, I felt my finger just to make sure the whole thing wasn't a dream. There it was on my left hand. Wearing Hunter’s ring actually made me smile, my body stretching as it came awake.

And then a fresh bout of morning sickness
really
woke me up.

When I got to the office no one noticed the ring, which I found strangely disappointing. I needed to show it off to someone and I still hadn’t told my sister, so I invited Lanie out for dinner.

“Not a bad rock, sis,” Lanie whistled. "It's pretty big. Speaking of big—"

“I'm not telling you about his damn dick size!”

Next to us, an older woman gasped. Lanie cracked up, enjoying how I hid my face behind a menu. "Smooth."

Peeking at her, I stuck out my tongue. "You're paying for your own meal, now."

"Ouch!"

Sipping my water, I shrugged. "You get to eat all the good stuff, no complaining."

"The pregnancy going well?" she asked.

"I'm a little sick. It might be mostly stress."

Her face scrunched up. "You've got everything covered. Relax."

She made it sound so easy. After we finished up, I asked if Lanie wanted to spend the night on my couch. I liked having her close, since she was the only family I had left.

"If you need anything in the middle of the night, just ask," I said.

Lanie snuggled under the blanket. "No no. Let me know if I can get
you
anything, future Mrs. Hunter Daniels Junior."

I fell asleep quickly, trying not to dream of Hunter and failing horribly. I was in mid-dream when my phone rang.

“Hello,” I said, speaking into my cellphone groggily.

“Miss Cooke, please hold for a call,” a very professional voice said.

“Uh. OK." What call? What was this? I was still mostly asleep.

“Jo? This is Victoria Daniels, Hunter’s mother.”

I sat up so fast it strained my neck. “Um, hi Mrs. Daniels. How can I help you?” Why was she calling me at—was it six in the morning?

“Well, my dear. It has come to my attention that you’re my daughter-in-law to-be.” She laughed sweetly—it gave me goosebumps.

“I guess that’s true,” I said.

“Well, I’ve decided to throw a fantastic party at the estate on Friday night. A big engagement party. Doesn't that sound wonderful, dear?”

Holding my head, I looked around the room. A wave of sickness hit me, I wondered if I could tactfully end this call and vomit in private. “Engagement party?”

Her voice got higher, birdlike. “Oh, yes. It will be wonderful, a black tie affair. I know it’s short notice, but if you need an outfit, swing by Flora Daisy, it's my favorite. I have all the best people on speed dial. I’ll have my party planner email you for your guest list. Is that all right?”

What could I say?
Oh no, please stop planning a party and forget I exist. Thanks!
“Sure, it's fine. And, um, thanks.”

“Not at all. Ciao, my dear. I just wanted to tell you that I am so happy about all of this."

“Thank you, Mrs. Daniels.”

“Please, call me Victoria. Farewell."

Falling back on my pillows, I gaped at the ceiling. I wasn't even at the party and I already felt exhausted from it. I fell back asleep for another fifteen minutes. As I slept, I had nightmares of what a black tie engagement party for a fake relationship would look like.

“Wake up! Wake up! Open your eyes, Jo!” Lanie yelled at me. She was standing in my doorway with a cup of coffee and she made her way over to the bed. “You were yelling something about prom, black ties, and an evil shrub. Are you sure those are just pain pills the doctor has you on? Or maybe those pregnancy hormones are already driving you nuts.”

I sat up, catching my breath. “I’ve heard that pregnant women can have weird dreams. I bet that women who agree to marry a famous athlete in order to save their careers have the same problem.”

Lanie laughed. “I bet. So, you were screaming about a
real
engagement party?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Hunter’s mother wants it to be black tie at their estate. I think we need to go shopping, but first . . .” I couldn't finish my sentence because I had to hobble as fast as I could to the bathroom. I barely made it.

“When you’re done puking, I can take you shopping at one of my fave stores. They stock our makeup there. You can watch me bust out my company discount.”

"She told me to check out Flora Daisy."

"Oh yeah? Huh. That place is fancy, sounds perfect."

It didn't sound
perfect
to me at all.

A few hours later we drove to the store. Lanie claimed that it had the biggest formal wear section in all of New Haven. I let her take the lead. She was happy to oblige, saying, “Since you’re the bride to be, I think your dress should be something very pure and very pretty. Delicate and refined.”

Lanie directed an associate to gather a selection of dresses that had skirts full and long enough to hide my ankle brace.

Luckily, I only had to try on two of Lanie’s choices before I found the perfect dress; a flared gown with a sweetheart neckline. It was light blue at the top, but faded to bright white at the bottom where it was trimmed in intricate white embroidery and lace. The whole thing shimmered in the light.

The dress seemed simple at first, but the more you looked at it the more you picked up on all the fine details. When Lanie saw me in it, she clapped her hands together. “My sister is a princess.”

I looked at the price tag and shook my head. “Never mind, Lanie. This costs thousands of dollars.”

“Who cares?” Lanie scoffed. “You’re marrying into one of the richest families in the country.”

“I don't think it works like that,” I argued.

“Sure it does. It has to if you really want to sell this engagement. You have to dress the part. In this dress, to be exact,” Lanie confirmed. “Shop Keep,” Lanie continued, half-joking, “Put this on Mrs. Daniels’ tab.”

“Lanie, don’t!” I squealed.

The cashier didn’t even bat an eye. “Excellent. Mrs. Daniels called earlier and preapproved everything. Her instructions were to make sure you had everything you needed.”

“What?” I blurted. “Seriously?”

“Maybe your new mom-in-law isn’t all that bad,” Lanie said.

Next, I helped Lanie pick out her dress. She went with a stunning red number with a demurely high neckline that was backless with a slit up the side. It was sexy but not over-the-top.

We posed together in the mirror, it reminded me of prom night. Lanie was two years younger but a boy in my class had invited her, naturally, so we had spent the afternoon excitedly getting ready together. It was one of my favorite memories from our childhood. For some reason, thinking about it made me cry.

“Oh, Jo! It's okay, you look gorgeous!"

I flapped my hands, wiping my eyes. "It's not that. It's just making me think about way back when, and—"

"Shh shh," she soothed, hugging me close. I didn't need to say more; Lanie knew I was reliving the car accident. It was so long ago, but now that I was having a baby of my own, the pain of being an orphan felt unbearable.

Lanie hugged me until I was able to compose myself. Untangling us, I straightened my dress and breathed deep. “Thanks, Lanie. You’re my rock."

Her smile went ear to ear. "Hey, speaking of
big
rocks—"

"I'm not telling you about Hunter's you know what!" I shouted, and the two of us cracked up, the heavy sadness truly floating off our shoulders.

* * *

T
he night
of the party arrived quicker than I wanted it to.

Hunter sent a limo for me. The number of times I'd ridden in one was rapidly ticking upwards. But what really got to me was the sight of him when he stepped out of the car.

His suit-jacket was so dark it was like he'd dipped it into a black hole. His tie was slim and straight, his body made of sharp angles that could cut a girl to ribbons if she got too close.

I wanted to get even closer.

"You look shocked," he said, reaching his hand out to take mine. Static jumped between our fingers; he tensed up, unable to hide his reaction any better than I could. He scooped me up with his hungry eyes, tasting me—inhaling me.

I went to pull away; he wouldn't let me. Hunter constricted further, pulling me close enough that one of his hard vest buttons cut through my silky dress as easily as a knife. It hurt—I loved it. I wanted more of it, of him, and I wished we weren't about to be carted off to a strange party with even stranger people.

He watched me closely. I spoke up just to do
something
that wasn't pressing closer to his warm body. "You look great."

"Black tie events require it," he said. His palm rested on my lower back, nudging me into the car. "We should go. If we're late, my mother will feel
scandalized."

Chuckling dryly, I sat on the heated cushion. He offered me some water, and I sipped it before I realized it was fizzing; I never liked sparkling water. "This party came together fast."

"Mom wants to show you off." I grimaced, and Hunter said, "So do I." That bothered me less, though my hypocrisy left me feeling nauseous.

"Anything I should know going into this?"

"Just play the game. We're engaged, we've been dating in secret, all of that. And if it gets too hard, I'll pick up the slack."

My frown stretched as far as it could. "Because you're such a good actor?"

"Because I'm
not
acting," he said, his voice smoke and sugar and as good as the alcohol I wasn't supposed to be drinking. Hunter slid against me, our hips grinding, his hand closing on mine all over again.

I was frozen to the spot. My tongue weighed as much as a gravestone.

"Jo," he said firmly. Whenever he said my name, my lips tingled like I'd been playing a harmonica. "I know we haven't had a real chance to discuss this fucked up thing we're doing, but I've got a sense that you think I'm playing with you. I'm not. Even if this marriage is forced or fake or whatever you want to call it, I'm still obsessed with you."

Obsessed.
What a word. It stamped onto my soul and stayed there.

The amber in his irises was dark like burnt caramel. I wondered if he'd taste like candy. Breathing out, I said, "You don't know me."

Between us, he clasped my fingers tighter. "But I will."

The car had stopped but I couldn't tell because my entire
world
had gone still. Everything had shrunk to a pinpoint that contained Hunter and only Hunter. With his hair fixed into place and his clothes sharply ironed, he was as clean-cut as a prince.

A prince that ruled the world with his football skills.

His smiles.

And his stupidly perfect cock.

"You just turned really red," he whispered on my cheek. There was sin living in his quirking lips. "Are you thinking dirty thoughts about me?"

The car door opened; I flew right out of it, saying, "Nope. Just trying not to laugh at you." It was an ugly lie and the grin he wore said he didn't buy it. Fluffing my dress, I looked up at the mansion stretching over me.

The bottom half was all pale stones, the rest a dove-grey turning yellow from the shining lamps in the trees and grass. Up and down the block there were expensive cars parked; I expected to find a valet, had to remind myself this was a house party and not a Gala at some museum.

Hunter moved beside me, wrapping his elbow with mine like it was second nature. He tugged me—I stumbled, still off balance with my ankle. The brace was hidden by the long layers, and if anything, I still walked better than I did when wearing tall heels.

"This is gorgeous," I said in a hushed tone.

"Wait till you see the inside."

I started to respond—walking through the front doors sucked my voice away. I’d gone through a portal to another universe. To the right, the foyer opened up into a grand ballroom which led out to the veranda. To the left was the formal dining room. Everything was marble with gilded gold. Oil paintings and tapestries adorned the walls. I thought places like this only existed in storybooks or on British television.

Victoria and Hunter Sr. approached us as we entered. Both of them were dressed to the nines—she in her dignified pearl and turquoise gown, and him in a black suit that matched his son's, though Hunter wore it better.

I suddenly found myself wishing that I'd watched more
Downton Abbey
or had taken an etiquette class. Everyone in the room looked so proper in their finery. I was an imposter here.

“Jo, you look lovely,” Victoria said.

“Thanks—er, thank you so much,” I responded.

Her husband offered me a smile crafted from plastic. I was sure it had taken years of practice to pull off such a fond look for a person he must hate. "Good to see you, future daughter-in-law."

Hunter squeezed my hand. It infused me with courage, and I said, "I'm glad for the chance to get to know you better."

His eyes said he knew I was lying. My smile said I was just doing what he wanted.

Victoria eyed us both, then she snatched my wrist and freed me from her son. "Come along, I have so many people to introduce you to." As she whisked me away from Hunter, I tossed a look at him that said
Help me.