Simon’s introduction to Gail’s hometown started with a sign posted on the meandering highway they’d been traveling since leaving Interstate 5: Welcome to Whiskey Creek, the Heart of the Gold Country. They’d passed through other places, similar in size and architecture. Jackson and Sutter Creek also dated from the Gold Rush–era of the 1800s and looked it. But there was something different about Whiskey Creek. Subtle though it was, Simon noticed it right off. There was a definable unity here, a certain pride evident in the way the buildings were maintained and cared for that made him believe it should’ve been named Happy Valley.
“What do you think?” Gail adjusted her seat belt so she could turn toward him.
“It’s...interesting.” He’d insisted on driving, even though he wasn’t familiar with the route. He had to retain some semblance of control, and she hadn’t fought him on that. She seemed happy enough to play the role of navigator.
“You don’t like it?”
Resting his left hand over the steering wheel, he used his injured right to slide his sunglasses down and take a better look. “The surrounding countryside is gorgeous. I’ve just never lived in a small town. I’m not sure how I’ll adapt.”
She lowered the passenger window and stuck her head out as if she couldn’t wait to smell the air. “There’s nowhere like the foothills, especially in the fall.”
That she loved the area so much surprised him. Although they’d never really socialized when he was her client, they had spent significant time together. Other than an occasional mention of where she came from she’d never talked about Whiskey Creek. But then...she’d always been straight-up business. This was the first glimpse he’d had into her past. He’d never had any reason to take an interest before.
“Why’d you leave here?” he asked.
She lowered the volume on the radio. “For the same reasons I keep coming back. My family lives here. And I know everyone.”
“Those are bad things?”
“My father can be...a bit overbearing and opinionated.”
He’d already gotten that impression.
“And when you know everyone, there’s no chance to break out and be anything other than what people expect,” she added. “It can be...confining.” She rolled her eyes. “Then there’s the inevitable gossip.”
“I can’t imagine you’ve ever been gossiped about. You always play by the rules.” He glanced over to see if she’d refute that statement.
“I’ve had my less-than-stellar moments.”
“Name one.”
“No, thanks. Those incidents were painful enough when they happened. No need to relive them.” She rummaged through her purse and came up with a pack of gum. “Now that we’re married, there will, of course, be more gossip.”
“Unlike you, I’m used to being gossiped about.” He shook his head when she offered him a piece. “I don’t think I could feel at home anywhere I wasn’t the center of attention,” he teased.
“Then you’ll feel right at home here.” She tossed him a grin. “Anyway, I had to leave. There’s not much opportunity in Whiskey Creek for a PR firm.”
“What about in Sacramento? According to the signs I’ve seen, it isn’t far.”
“It’s still an hour, which makes for a long commute. Unless you want to run one of the stores around here, or maybe a B and B, and we already have two, you’re pretty much out of luck in the business world.”
He nodded toward A Room with a View Bed and Breakfast, a quaint Victorian perched prominently on Main Street, where the road made a ninety-degree turn. “Tell me we can stay there,” he said, but he knew it wasn’t likely that she’d change her mind. She’d told him they’d be staying with her father until they could find a rental. He’d heard her confirm it on the phone earlier. He was going to be Martin DeMarco’s guest even though he wasn’t particularly welcome.
“We have to stay at my dad’s, at least for a day or two, or he’ll never forgive us,” she explained.
“Us? He doesn’t want me there.”
“I can’t let him reject you. We’re married. We’re a package.”
“I’m being rescued by a girl.” He sighed. “I can’t believe my life has come down to this.”
If he thought she’d give him a bit of sympathy, he was mistaken. “I hope it’s as humbling as it should be,” she said.
“Good thing my ego is all but indestructible.” He let his gaze stray to the V of her tan dress, which had distracted him all day. As much as he didn’t want to find his new “wife” too appealing—they both knew their relationship would best be handled as simply a business transaction—he was intrigued on a number of levels. Mostly, he liked her mind. He’d always admired her quick thinking and no-nonsense, honest approach to life, or he wouldn’t have hired her as his PR agent. But there was something more, something about her that just felt...right. She inspired him.
If that was the extent of it, the next two years should progress uneventfully. But in the past few days he’d actually been wondering why he’d never noticed how flawless her skin was. Or how her lips quirked endearingly to one side when she was trying to tell him he was full of bullshit.
“Stop it,” she said, nudging his shoulder.
“What?” he asked innocently.
“Just because you’re wearing sunglasses, don’t think I can’t tell what you’re looking at.”
It was their wedding kiss, he decided. Ever since she’d drawn back almost as soon as their lips touched, he’d been preoccupied with kissing her again. But that wasn’t a welcome realization. If he wasn’t careful, he’d drag her down before she could pull him up.
“I’m happy to hang out on my own at the B and B, if I’m bothering you,” he said.
“Nice try, but I’m not going to my father’s without you.”
The reminder of what they would soon face quashed his libido. “How difficult is Mr. DeMarco?” he asked, slowing for a traffic signal.
“What do you mean?”
The light turned green before he had to stop. “He’s never been abusive with you....”
“No. I hope I didn’t give you that impression. He’s a good man, a really good man. It’s just that he expects so much of me, and is so easily disappointed. The...force of his personality can be hard to take.”
Simon considered that and grimaced. “I don’t do well with authority figures.”
She didn’t attempt to convince him otherwise. That was another thing that made her different. If she said something he could believe it. “No kidding.”
He adjusted his seat to give himself more legroom. “So...how do you think this is going to work?”
“We’ll figure it out,” she said. “At the very least it’ll be interesting.”
Besides the B and B, they passed an antiques store called Eureka Treasures, Black Gold Coffee, Whiskey Creek Five and Dime, 49er Sweets and a smattering of mom-and-pop-style restaurants, including a diner called Just Like Mom’s that could’ve come right out of the 1960s. There wasn’t one fast-food joint or chain grocery store that Simon could see, which made this town and others in the area different from most.
Farther down the street there was a post office, a bike store named Crank It Up and a barbershop, complete with the traditional pole.
“When do we get our own house?” He came to the second stoplight and glanced over to see some flyers taped in the window of Harvey’s Hardware. One advertised a tour of a nearby gold mine. Another enticed visitors to go spelunking at a place called Moaning Caverns. The display behind these flyers featured Halloween decorations.
“As soon as Kathy Carmichael, down at KC’s Gold Country Realty, is able to find us something suitable.”
The hill to the right sported several century-old homes. Others—those along Sutter Street—had been turned into gift shops or art galleries. “Doesn’t look like there’s a big housing market around here. Will there be anything to choose from?”
“Not much but—” she gave him a pirate’s smile “—thanks to you, money’s no object, so we’ll just take the best one we can get. Picking our lot and getting started on the house you’ll build will take more time.”
Not if he could help it. He needed to stay busy or he’d revert to his old ways before she could raise a disapproving eyebrow. She’d removed all his coping mechanisms. They hadn’t been working particularly well, but they had always provided an escape. “You realize I can’t build a house by myself. I’ve never taken on a project quite that big.”
“I have a good friend who’s a general contractor. I’m sure he’ll be happy to provide any support and guidance you need—for a fee.”
“And you think we can build a house in the time we plan to stay here?”
“Probably not, but you can always have Riley take over when we go back to L.A. Then we’ll have somewhere to stay when we visit.” She conjured up an expression of mock innocence. “Unless you’d like to stay with my father whenever we return.”
“Point taken,” he grumbled.
Her attention shifted back to her hometown as if she was making note of any subtle changes, but he broke the silence again. “So...you were serious about three months, right? I have to last here for three months and then our Whiskey Creek days are over, except for an occasional visit?”
She touched his arm. “Give it a chance, okay?” She gestured at a small side street jutting off to the right. “Turn here.”
* * *
Somewhere in his late fifties, Martin DeMarco was a tall, grizzled redhead with erect posture, big shoulders and hands large enough to palm a basketball. He treated Simon with cool reserve, wouldn’t address him directly, but said nothing overtly unwelcoming. He didn’t say much at all. He greeted his daughter with a stiff nod and suffered through a brief introduction. Then he helped carry their luggage from the car to Gail’s old bedroom in his home, which resembled a large cabin. After putting down her suitcase, he gave Simon one long, assessing look, frowned as though he wasn’t happy with what he saw and turned back to his daughter.
“Dinner’s in the fridge. Go ahead and heat it up if you’re hungry.” He didn’t say it, but the intimation was there: And feed him if you have to. “I’ve got a problem at the station, but it shouldn’t take long.”
“Anything serious?” she asked.
“No, just Robbie. He can’t figure out how to open the till to give change—the little idiot.”
“Where’s his mother? I thought she was training him.”
“She’s been trying, but she’s not feeling well. This is his first night on his own.”
“He’ll learn,” she said.
With a skeptical grunt, Mr. DeMarco left, but as far as Simon was concerned his absence did little to improve the situation. Joe, Gail’s older brother, was still at home, and he was just as tall, just as imposing and just as unhappy with Gail’s choice of husband. He’d spent the whole time they were coming in leaning against the counter, drinking a cup of coffee and sizing Simon up.
When they returned to the kitchen, the disapproval rolling off him was offensive, but Simon had expected to encounter disapproval. He did his best to ignore it—until the sound of the older DeMarco’s engine disappeared and Joe addressed him. “So. You’re the badass.”
“Joe! You don’t have to be rude,” Gail cried, but Simon talked over her. He didn’t want her sticking up for him. He’d face these people down on his own. Maybe he’d get his ass kicked by her Goliath of a brother, but he wasn’t sure that would be entirely a bad thing. A bit of violence would provide an outlet for the emotions he could no longer dull with sex and alcohol. His temper had never been closer to the surface.
“That’s right.” He adopted the cocky air so effective in pissing people off. “How’d you know?”
“I read the papers.”
Simon lowered his voice as if divulging a fact Joe should already know but was too stupid to figure out. “Do you mean the tabloids? Because in case you hadn’t heard, they’re quite often full of shit.” He spoke at a normal volume again. “But don’t let that change your mind. I’m as badass as they come.”
“Funny, too. I like that.” Lifting his coffee cup, Joe smiled, looking perfectly comfortable—except for the muscle flexing in his cheek, which said otherwise. “But the fact that you’re a big movie star doesn’t matter that much to me.”
Simon felt his muscles tense. “Then why’d you bring it up?”
He set down his cup and straightened. “There’s one thing you need to know.”
“Joe—” Gail tried to break in. She’d been glancing between them, a worried expression on her face, but Simon pulled her behind him so she couldn’t get in the way.
“What’s that?”
“I don’t care how rich or famous you are. All the shit you’re used to getting away with? Won’t fly around here. You step on someone’s toes in Whiskey Creek, they’re going to knock you down a peg. And if you cheat on my sister, I’ll be handling that myself. Understood?”
He deserved the lack of faith, the censure, so Simon tried to take it like a man. But that wasn’t easy when it came from someone who had no clue what his life had been like with Bella. “I won’t embarrass you or your family. You have my word.”
Joe turned to rinse his cup. “For what it’s worth,” he muttered under his breath.
Had he not added that, Simon would’ve been able to let it go. As it was, the angry words he’d been biting back rose to his tongue. “Now that we’ve covered what went wrong in my marriage, what happened to yours?”
The question took Joe off guard. No doubt thanks to his size, he’d expected to swagger around and do the big-brother routine without any backlash. “Come again?”
“You heard me.”
“None of your damn business.” He dried his hands and tossed the towel aside.
“Simon,” Gail warned, but Simon ignored her.
“You can keep a scorecard on me but I can’t keep one on you?”
Joe sneered at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do. Few women walk away from a perfect husband.”
When Joe’s face flushed, Simon thought he’d start swinging. He had more than three inches and fifty pounds on Simon. With an injured right hand, Simon wouldn’t even be able to land a decent punch. But he wasn’t about to back down. Trying to change his life was hard enough without taking the crap this guy was dishing out.
Fortunately, Joe didn’t start a fight. Chest rising and falling fast, he sent an accusing glare at his sister, as if she must’ve revealed his situation, and stormed out. A second later, his truck’s engine roared to life and tires squealed as he peeled down the drive.
“Wow,” Gail breathed, and crumpled into a chair at the kitchen table.
Prepared to defend himself further, Simon whirled to confront her. He thought she might be upset that he wasn’t willing to tolerate her brother’s abuse, but her next words surprised him.
“Good job.”
“Good job?” he repeated. “I just pissed off your brother.”
“He was pissed off to begin with. He’s probably been waiting to do that to you ever since I told him we were getting married.”
Simon gave himself a couple of seconds to process the fact that she wasn’t going to turn on him. “But now he hates my guts.”
“That’s okay. At least he understands that he can’t push you around. Respect is more important than anything else. Respect will create a foundation. But, just so you don’t walk into something you aren’t prepared for in the future, you need to be aware that he has his limits.”
“So do I,” he grumbled.
She regarded him quizzically “How did you know?”
He had no idea what she was talking about. “What?”
“That he’s been married before. That Suzie left him.”
“There’s a picture of him with a woman and two little girls hanging in the hallway.”
“Oh...right.” She nodded. “Of course. But he could’ve left her.”
“I figured he wouldn’t be living here if that was the case.”
“I see.” She studied him. “It’s going to be tough settling in.”
“I can handle it,” he said. “Don’t worry about me.” But he was suddenly craving alcohol so badly it was all he could do not to head for the closest bar or liquor store. “Let’s get out of here, go to dinner.”
She hesitated. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Fine.”
“There’s a good Italian place around the corner.”
“Great. Maybe there’s a casino nearby, too.”
“As a matter of fact, there is. Some of the locals work there, but I’m not sure that’s the best place for you to go.” She picked up her purse. “Still on the hunt for an acceptable vice?”
He pulled her car keys from his pocket. “I need some kind of distraction. And I’m guessing you don’t want to provide it.”
* * *
“What happened to his hand?”
Gail sat at the kitchen table, only now it was her father who stood at the sink. She’d had Simon drop her off after dinner. Although she wasn’t happy about the risks involved, he’d insisted on heading to the casino. He said he needed a break, some time alone. She’d finally agreed because she knew she’d ensure the failure she was trying to avoid if she smothered him or pressed him too hard. Besides, she’d wanted some private time with her family, felt that might take the edge off their reaction to her marriage, but Joe hadn’t yet returned. “He had an accident with a power saw.”
The smell of the coffee her father had just put on filled the room as he eyed her skeptically. “Are you sure he didn’t get in another fight? Go after his ex-wife’s brother again?”
She scowled. “I’m sure,” she said, and left it at that. The details wouldn’t help convince Martin she’d made a good match.
With a click of his tongue, he shook his head. “What were you thinking, marrying someone like him, Gail?”
“Someone like him?” she echoed.
“Someone so shallow...and reckless...and stupid...”
Since he seemed to be searching for more adjectives, she stopped him before he could continue. “Simon is anything but stupid.” The other things made Gail defensive, too. Coming into their “deal,” she’d felt the same irritation and repugnance for Simon’s behavior as her father did. She’d sympathized completely with Bella. But Simon’s lack of action when he cut his hand had made her realize that his behavior wasn’t the result of elitism or arrogance, as most people believed. He’d been so emotionally distraught he couldn’t cope.
She wanted her father and everyone else to put his past in the proper context, but Simon wouldn’t allow anyone to get close enough to gain any sort of understanding. If not for his meltdown, and how she’d been drawn into it, she wouldn’t have come close enough to understand him, either. “He’s been through a lot.”
“So you’ve said. But if you’re talking about his divorce, I don’t buy it. I went through a divorce, too. And I had kids to raise and not nearly as much money.”
Her mother had walked out on her father for an old high school sweetheart. They were now married and living in Phoenix. Gail knew how painful losing Linda had been for Martin. She also knew it had changed the way he behaved every bit as much as Simon’s divorce had changed him. He obviously felt his situation had been harder. But Gail wasn’t convinced. At least there’d been no fame to complicate matters, no media coverage to broadcast every sordid detail, which would’ve made everything that much worse, especially for such a proud man. Even so, Martin had become strict and controlling, especially where she and Joe were concerned. There were times Gail suspected her mother would’ve remained a part of her life if not for her father, who could be autocratic and difficult to deal with.
Gail wanted to tell him those things, but she knew he wouldn’t take kindly to the criticism. Besides, he could allude to her mother, but Linda was still a taboo subject for everyone else, even after all the years that had passed.
“He’s worth trying to save,” she said simply.
“That’s what you’re doing? Saving him?” He shook a finger at her. “You can’t save people from themselves, Gail. You’re foolish to think you can.”
“So... I should quit without even trying?” she challenged.
He didn’t seem to have an answer for that.
“We’re already married, Dad. All I’m asking is that you treat him with some respect while we’re here, give him a chance.”
The door opened, and they both glanced up. Gail feared it was Simon. She wasn’t quite ready for him. But it was Joe who walked in.
Her brother gazed around the kitchen, then speared her with an angry glare. “Where’s pretty boy?”
Prepared to take on the two of them, if necessary, she squared her shoulders. “You started that fight, Joe.”
Her father pulled out a chair and sat down across from her. “What fight?”
“After you left, he tried to belittle Simon,” Gail explained.
“That couldn’t have been hard,” her father said wryly.
She folded her arms. “Maybe not, but he lived to regret it. Simon feels attacked on all sides. He’ll snap at anything, even if he’s the one who’d take the worst of any fight it might cause.”
“Why’d you bring him here?” Joe demanded. “You know how we feel.”
Scooting her chair away from the table, she stood. Her father and brother were so big, so...overpowering, they could be intimidating even when they weren’t teaming up against her. “What are you saying, big brother? That I should’ve come without him? Or that I should’ve stayed away, too? Because Simon and I can head over to the B and B if you don’t want us here—”
Her father raised his hand in a calming gesture. “Hold on. There’s no need for that. Simon’s here now. We’ll make the best of it.”
Joe wasn’t willing to let it go quite so easily. “You don’t expect this marriage to last, do you? Because I can tell you right now it won’t.”
For a second, Gail wished she’d be able to prove him wrong. But that was crazy. Under normal circumstances, Simon wouldn’t have given her the time of day. No doubt, once he had Ty back, he’d return to Hollywood and all the women who’d throw themselves at him—and forget about her. He was with her for Ty’s sake, and only for Ty’s sake. He’d made that clear from the beginning.
“Maybe it won’t,” she admitted. “But that’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” her father argued. “You don’t want to go through a divorce, Gail.”
“It’s too late to worry about that! I took the risk when I married him. All I ask is that you don’t make my life or my marriage any more difficult by rejecting my husband.”
Her words met with silence. She’d made an impact, showed them no good could come out of how they were acting. She could tell by the sheepish expression on her brother’s face and the stoic one on her father’s that they suddenly understood it was too late to talk her out of being with Simon.
“He needs friendship,” she went on. “I’m asking you to offer him that and see what you get in return. If you hate him, just be sure you hate him because he’s earned it. Don’t hate him on principle.”
Joe sagged into the seat next to her father and propped his elbows on the table. “You want us to forget what we’ve heard about him and give him a clean slate.”
Intent on her appeal, she sat down again, too. “Why not? You don’t even know him! All you know is what you’ve read and heard in the media.”
“And from you,” he pointed out.
Her conscience pricked her. “I was wrong to say what I did. I was reacting to...false perceptions. Just like you’re doing now. Anyway, can you imagine going to your wife’s home and being treated the way he was treated tonight?”
Joe toyed with the sugar bowl sitting on the table. “I know what that’s like. My in-laws hated me because I wasn’t interested in their religion.”
“Exactly.”
“You always did know how to make me feel like shit,” he muttered.
She managed a halfhearted grin. “We’re siblings. That’s my job.”
Her father got up to pour himself some coffee. “So tell me this, Gail. If the two of you are so in love, why are you here in Whiskey Creek and not on some extravagant honeymoon celebrating your marriage?”
She could no longer meet his eyes. “This is about something more important than that.”
“Like what?”
The memory of finding Simon on the floor of his woodshop came into sharp focus. After that, a honeymoon hadn’t even crossed her mind. She’d just wanted to help him recover. “This home has always been my safe harbor.”
Her father’s eyes widened. “But it can’t be the only place someone who’s that famous has to go.”
“Anywhere else wouldn’t have the support he needs. This is the best place I know. The one I trust. I want him to have the peace of mind you’ve both given me. That’s why I brought him here.”
After setting his cup on the table, her father came over to crouch in front of her. “He’s not a stray dog, Gail,” he said, taking her hands. “He’s a wealthy movie star who’ll probably break your heart—”
“If he does...he does. He’s human, Dad. And he’s going through hell. Sure, he’s asked for a lot of it but everyone screws up now and then. He needs a way to break his fall. I’m trying to give him that.”
Another silence descended as he considered her words.
“Fine.” Her brother relented first. “I’ll be on my best behavior from here on out. You can get us to do anything. I think you know that.”
Tears filled her eyes, which surprised her. She hadn’t realized this meant so much to her. “Thanks, Joe. Just give him a chance. That’s all I ask.”
“Okay.” Her father squeezed her hands and stood as if that made it official. “Far as I’m concerned, he has a clean slate. But if he hurts you—”
“He can’t hurt me, Dad. I know what to expect.”
He returned to his coffee. “You just want to help him. That’s it.”
“That’s it.” She wasn’t sure when her motivation had changed, when she’d become more interested in seeing Simon get back on his feet than in saving her business, but there was no doubt she was far more emotionally committed than she’d been before.
“At least it makes sense to me now,” her father said. “But pity is a hell of a reason to marry someone.”
It was more than pity. It was sadness over his lost potential, even a little of the hero worship she’d felt for her favorite movie star. She knew that worship was what frightened her family. It frightened her, too. Maybe she’d become disenchanted with him in certain ways, but it was hard to get on an equal footing with an idol.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“You’re too good for him,” her father added when she came around to kiss his cheek. “But I’m willing to give him the opportunity to prove me wrong.”
She offered them both a watery smile. She’d known they’d come through for her. They always did. “Thanks.”