It's Holy Matrimony, Baby_The Casey Brothers Series Read online

  “Yeah. She had that...light inside her, that zing from the beginning.” Sort of like Beck did the first time I saw her. Everything was haywire in my head and she shone like a flare. Can’t tell her that though. “Anyone could tell she was special the moment they heard her voice. But she worked her ass off too. That day wasn’t an exception. And then she received a phone call about the boy she was dating. It really messed her up.”

  “I wonder what it was.”

  I still remember her face while her best friend broke the news that the boy Sophie had started dating was spreading rumors about her. She had never kissed a boy and half the kids we went to school with were going to believe she was a slut. “I’m not sure, but she was furious. She stormed out of the booth.”

  “It must have been bad.”

  “Yeah, I think it might have been.” She was so pale, all the color washed out of her face and tears started leaking from the corners of her eyes as she slammed the booth door behind her. Her hands were shaking, and she was panting as she turned to race out of the building. And then my brother said something to her about how she shouldn’t let it get to her. “She flew out the doors behind us and straight across the yard. Do you see that line?”

  “What line?” She screws up her nose and uses a hand to shade her eyes.

  Taking her arm, I pull her in front of me and then point over her shoulder so that she can follow the line of my finger to the faded white line on the gravel. “That one.”

  “Oh yeah,” she whispers.

  “That’s how far she got. You see there was this other boy. He worked here. A boy she’d grown up with and had been friends with all her life. And he’d loved her for all that time. So when he saw how upset she was he had to comfort her. He slammed out of those doors right behind her, chased her across the yard, and then he grabbed her arm.” I take Beck’s elbow as I step closer to her, guiding it back toward my chest, holding onto her like I need her to stay. What would it take? “Like this.”

  She inhales sharply. “Go on.”

  “Sophie spun around, her eyes red rimmed. She could have obliterated him with her glare. They were both breathing hard, locked into the moment.” Leaning closer, my breath ruffles her hair. The thin strands dance against the nape of her neck, and goose bumps form despite the heat. “A storm of electricity between them, they stood rooted where they were. I suppose it had been there for a while, but not like it was that afternoon while they stood in the sunlight, and he took her face in his hands and told her that she was too good for some stupid boy from this town. That she was going to be the one who everyone wished they could have had a chance with because she was so much more than anyone deserved.”

  Her breath hitches and her shoulders still. She’s caught up in this story. Deep down inside, Beck Casey is a romantic. She just doesn’t know it.

  “And she asked him if she was too good for him,” I continue.

  “What did he say?” she asks.

  “He said she was the best thing that ever happened to him, and if that meant he’d spend every day for the rest of his life trying to be good enough for her, then that was what he was going to do.”

  “And then he kissed her?” Her voice crackles, eager for the happy ending. Anticipating it.

  “No,” I say, drawing away. “She kissed him. She leaped at him, kissing him before he could comprehend what was happening. It took him a few seconds to catch on and by then she’d pulled away.”

  “Is that all?” Beck sounds disappointed.

  “Well, it was a first kiss for her. For him as well. You can’t expect too much.”

  “But...that’s really it?”

  “No.” I grin. “She went to walk away, and he dragged her back into his arms and made a good deal of their second kiss. But I can’t tell you about that because I didn’t stick around to witness it.” Tried not to witness most of the public displays of affection between my brother and his girlfriend for the next four years.

  “I wonder what happened to them. To him.” Beck turns her blue-eyed gaze on me, twisting her torso to face me.

  I scratch at my jaw. There’s only so much I can tell her. “He didn’t want to get in the way of her achieving her dreams, I suppose. When her star started rising, it was inevitable that things between them would change.”

  “Is he the one you were talking about when you said you knew a guy who thought she might be the devil?”

  “He never thought she was the devil. It was just a little joke.”

  “Thank you.” Beck touches my arm. “Thank you for telling me the story, and thank you for leaving my hotel room and not making this marriage nonsense more difficult than it has to be.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say, because I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, but there are too many people depending on me to not commit to the deal I made with Liv.

  “That’s oka—”

  “No.” It doesn’t matter how I try to soften the blow, it’s going to come out wrong. “I’m sorry I had to go to work this morning and that led you to believe that I’m done with being your husband. I meant what I said last night. It’s not going to change.”

  Her eyes get real huge, all glittery blue except for her pupils. In them I can see myself, and the horror at the situation we find ourselves in. She takes a breath in. A long, deep breath that makes her tits rise like two balloons. And then she expels it in a flurry of words that aren’t particularly intelligible as she paces in a circle, but the gist is clear. She couldn’t be less happy with the situation. “Why can’t you be reasonable? What can you possibly get out of doing this? Surely this isn’t fun for you.”

  “Well, until a couple seconds ago it was kind of enjoyable.” I don’t mean to be an ass, though she must think I do. I’m too tired to formulate a plan, too out of place with her presence all of a sudden. I turn the keys over in my hand. They rattle against each other. Something familiar in this new landscape that takes the edge off. Perhaps I just want to be honest in a situation that calls for dishonesty.

  Again she stops and stares at me, her lips parted loosely. “You’re joking. Or confused. This is enjoyable to you?”

  “For a minute there.” I look her in the eye. “Yeah, I was enjoying myself.” Probably more than I have these past two years. Or even longer. Except one night in Vegas. “Weren’t you?”

  “Wh…You think that...it was just a story. I thought you had changed your mind about torturing me.”

  “Torture?” I glance over my shoulder at the truck cab. I’ve put in a full day. All I want is to go home and have a shower and drink a beer. Chill out on my couch and watch some shitty TV. Spend some time in the shed next to the cabin and create with my hands. Instead I have to go teach a couple kids how to play guitar, and then I have to work out how to deal with this woman who clearly has no idea what torture in a relationship is like. “Does that friend of yours—”

  “Liv,” she hurries me along.

  “Liv. Does she ever tell you that you’re a bit dramatic?”

  “Dramatic?” Her voice gets squeaky. She looks about ready to blow her top. “Are you seriously calling me a drama queen?”

  “Now, now. I never called you a queen.” I grimace, clasping my hands behind my back and shifting my weight. “I’m just suggesting that you might be going a little too far when you call this situation torture.”

  “Is that so? What would you call it?”

  “Marriage, for starters.” I shrug while I locate the truck key. “And since I happen to like you, Beck, it’s not exactly a hardship.”

  “I still don’t understand why you’re insisting.” She flaps her arms. I bet she wishes she could take off right about now. Just fly out of this town and away from me.

  “I guess it’s because if my old man was still here, he’d tell me that some of the greatest things come from the most unlikely places.” Stepping up beside her I take her arm to lead her to the truck. “And he’d tell me that if I could go so far as to put my mother’s wedding band on your finger
, the least I can do is find out if it could be worth it.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  With this ring, I thee wed...

  Marriage is about forgiveness and understanding, right?

  It’s about understanding that hot doesn’t always mean sane.

  And it’s about hoping he won’t kill me when he finds out I lost the ring.

  BECK

  Hold on. This can’t be happening. He gave me his mother’s ring? The diamond ring he entrusted into my care is an heirloom, and I lost it. What if he wants it back? What am I going to do? It’s not like it’s in my jewelry box or lost in my handbag. It could be at the bottom of the San Francisco Bay or the Mississippi River or Lake Ontario for all I know. There’s no way I can dredge it up, even if I beg Liv for help. It’s gone, the way this marriage was supposed to be.

  “Jump in.” Nox lets go of my arm to open the cab door.

  “No. Why? What are we doing?” I stare at the truck interior. It’s neat and clean and awfully cozy.

  “I’m giving you a ride back to the hotel. Don’t see a car, so I assume you walked.”

  “I did.”

  “Then jump in the truck.”

  “I’m not getting in there.”

  He shakes his head and his chest sinks. His shoulder muscles drop. “Why not?”

  “Don’t they say you should never ride with strangers? Especially if they give you candy.” No idea why I’m saying this. Nerves. How long until he asks about the ring? And there’s not much room for two adults in that teeny enclosed space.

  “Look, I’m not offering you candy if that helps.”

  “But you smell like oranges, which is kind of the same.” Sugar and earth and sunshine. I noticed it again while he stood all too close to tell me his story. I’d been transported into Sophie and her mystery man’s moment, but if I’d turned to him would it have become our moment?

  “Fucking oranges,” he mutters under his breath, before addressing me. “Are you always this difficult? You know you’re not five, right? The candy rule doesn’t apply. And I’m not actually kidnapping you.”

  “Uh.” He has a point. At the same time I have no interest in riding with him. Or doing anything with him.

  “I don’t have time for this.” He drops his hand from the door and takes a step toward me. “I have to get to work.”

  I back up. Once. Twice. Each time he moves closer. “It does sort of feel like you’re trying to kidnap me.”

  “Fine.” He pushes his hair out of his face with both hands and then turns around and closes the door before walking to the other side of the cab. “If you want to walk all the way back to the hotel in this heat, be my guest.”

  He’s right. It is hot. Sweat makes my skin sticky. Sunlight pools on the blacktop, glimmers like water on the road. And the truck probably has air conditioning. Or at least it won’t take me forty minutes to get out of the heat.

  “Okay, okay,” I mutter under my breath as I hurry toward the cab. He swings in the other side. Wrenching open the door, I climb in beside him.

  “Buckle up,” he says, staring out the window at the old building.

  Gripping the seatbelt, I pull it over my shoulder and clip it. “Can we go now?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he says, as he starts the truck. Gravel crunches and hot air blows out of the vents. It takes a moment to cool down inside the cab while he turns the truck in a wide arc and onto the road that runs parallel to the studio.

  A stretch of barren land runs along the opposite side of the tar strip we’re travelling on. As we turn onto the main road toward the hotel there’s a steel sign posted, proposing a new mall is to be built.

  I never asked him what he did for a living. Although it’s been so long that could have changed several times. “What do you do?”

  He’s quiet and when I turn to him it’s to find him frowning. Should I know the answer? Is he surprised I would ask? Or is it something he’s not proud of? His brow smooths out and he drums his thumbs against the steering wheel. “I run deliveries for the lumber yard across town, but right now, I’m on my way to give a couple of high school students guitar lessons.”

  “You play?”

  “Used to. You don’t remember?”

  “Did we talk about that?”

  “Not in any depth.” He takes another corner onto a different road. “But you did keep grabbing my hand that night. Told me more than a few times that I had musician’s fingers. And there was something about how calluses really turned you on.” He hums, and I get a glimpse of a self-satisfied smirk.

  “I actually told you that?” I’ve never told anyone that. Liv knows I have a thing for arms, but then what girl doesn’t? But my ridiculous thing for hands with agile digits and rough surfaces... the things he did to me that night, where he touched me with those gloriously dexterous fingers... I sink down further into the leather and bite my lip as longing floods me. If he moves one of his hands from the steering wheel to my knee, I’ll probably melt clean away.

  “Don’t worry.” He leans toward me and winks. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  Is it? How many secret weapons did I give him that night? How does he remember so much when I can’t recall what we talked about or how we even met with any real detail? When I try, he’s always beside me. I go back to staring out the window. On my way out to see where Sophie Valentine found her start I made sure to pay attention to landmarks, but I don’t recognize anything now. “Is this the way back to the hotel?”

  “In a round about manner.” He shrugs, taking another turn.

  At least here there are people and stores. Hopefully in a few short minutes I won’t have to be alone with him anymore. Because as much as I want it to be uncomfortable, and as much as I want to be mad at him for stringing this situation out, I’m struggling. He could talk anyone into anything, including me. Clearly. I married him, which sure as hell wasn’t my idea, so it must have been his. “How did you trick me into marrying you?”

  “How did I...” He pulls the truck into a parking spot outside of a club, no, a store of some sort. Unclipping his seat belt, he stares at me. “You think I was the one who decided we should get married?”

  “Well, who else would it be?” I can’t believe he would try to bounce the blame.

  “It’s never occurred to you that you might have been the instigator, has it?” There’s genuine curiosity in his voice as he continues to study me.

  “Of course not.” I undo my own belt. “Why would I do that?”

  “You’re right.” He turns away to open his door and climb out of the truck. “It must have been me. Clearly that’s the part of the night I don’t remember.”

  I follow after him, meeting him at the front of the cab. “So you’re admitting it?”

  “What?”

  “That you tricked me into marrying you?”

  The muscles at his temples move with the clenching of his jaw. Glancing over his shoulder, he stares at the store; Mayhem Avenue, according to the signage. “I tell you what, Beck. We’ll make a deal.”

  “What deal would that be?”

  “You stick around for the next hour and a half while I take care of these lessons and then I’ll drive you back to the hotel and give you my confession.”

  I need to call my lawyer. If there’s any chance Nox’s confessing to tricking me into marrying him will hurry a resolution, then I’m going to stick like glue for the next hour and a half. If not, I’ll leave and go back to the hotel. He’ll be focused on teaching anyway.

  “Otherwise the Lakeside is about three blocks that way.” He points in the direction we were heading before we stopped here. “And I’ll be over once I’m finished working. We’ll get some dinner and talk about how to make this adjustment easier on you.”

  I don’t need an easier adjustment. I need this mess behind me. The quicker the better. “I’ll stay.”

  “Okay,” he says, and he seems happy with my decision while we walk into the music store.

  No, it’
s a club. Or perhaps bookshop. Or is it some kind of café? Liv would have a fit if she stepped foot in this place. But it’s almost heavenly.

  “Is that coffee I smell?” I run my fingers along the books stacked on shelves that reach to the roof at the front of the store. I inhale the aroma of roasted beans and swoon over the bins of CDs and vinyl. Maybe I died the moment I walked through the door. Perhaps my fear of being kidnapped was real, and now I’m happily floating in heaven because the man I accidently married murdered me after he kidnapped me. And yes, sometimes even Liv calls me a drama queen. But I swear it was only because he threw me with the comment about the ring.

  “Feels like home, doesn’t it?” He leans over my shoulder and whispers in my ear as he drags a vinyl out of the bin and hands it to me. “I remember how much you said you liked Violent Nation.”

  The album in my hands is a one off. It’s rare. I turn it around in my hands and study the label for one of my all-time favorite rock bands. The iconic blue and pearl industrial logo on the label is crowded with six signatures. I can’t even begin to... “It’s true. I’m dead. I must be.”

  “You’re not dead. But we’ll need to come and have a look after. I’m already late.” Nox chuckles as he takes my arm and guides me through the maze of bins and shelves to the register. Besides the usual cashier stand is a long display case with cakes and cookies and sandwiches. Better, there’s a coffee machine.

  “I need to buy this. And I need to buy coffee.” I pull my bag in front of me, so I can find my purse. “Actually, I need to make a phone call, so can I join you in a minute?” I glance down at the shelf under the register and there’s a Sophie Valentine CD with artwork I’ve never seen. A lone figure standing in profile against a backdrop that seems familiar. It has to be prior to her debuting on the radio. What if the guy on the cover is the same mystery boy Nox told me about earlier? I have to have it. “Or I could meander around here until you’re done.”

  “At least let me show you where I’ll be and then you can wander.” He holds out his hand to me.