CHAPTER THREE

 

Marriage isn’t mathematics.

It’s survival of the fittest.

Two enter, but only one survives.

If I have to go down, then I’m going down swinging.

 

Nox

There’s too much fruit on the trees. Fat dimpled orange balls dangle through the greenery like Christmas ornaments. Too many to pick them all without help before they spoil and litter the ground with their fermenting stink. If it’d been up to me the whole thirty-six of them would have been pine trees. Fucking pine trees I could have cut down after a year, but oranges...

Beck Casey; never expected to see her again. Stopped waiting for her to show up to deal with the legal side of things. It must be nearly two years since the disaster that was Vegas. Two years since dad died. Two years since my world went to hell. Beck Casey was nothing but icing on a shit storm of a cake.

The weight across my shoulder shifts as Dean jumps out of the back of the flatbed, mumbling something or other.

“We should hurry up and get the rest of this wood unloaded. I need to take the truck back.” I wait long enough for him to hoist the other end of the planks and start walking along the rocky path from the drive to the shed beside my cabin. “Ian will get his panties all in a wad if it’s not in the yard before lock up.”

“Uh-huh. Blame your boss for your mood.” Dean rolls his eyes. I don’t need eyes in the back of my head to see him do it, because it colors his voice. “Did you hear what I said before? Or is this your way of telling me to shut the hell up?”

“Why am I telling you to shut up?” Not that I need a reason to tell my brother to shut his yap. Done it plenty of times over the years.

“That girl at the bar—”

Beck Casey. Odd that I can’t remember her actual last name. Only what she would have been called if our marriage was more than an Elvis impersonator and a couple of signatures on paper. “What about her?”

“If you had let me finish my sentence, I was going to say she seemed into you.”

Yeah, so into me, she left me high and dry in Vegas. “You think?”

“Yeah. She was a stunner too. Legs for days. You remember that old ZZ Tops song Dad used to play? Sort of reminded me of that.”

“Couldn’t say I noticed.” So what if she’s got legs, and she knows how to use them?

“Bullshit.” He grins as he turns and walks back up the driveway. “That’s why you have a date with her tonight.”

We reach the rest of the stacked planks and deposit our load. Beck Casey, or whatever her name was before that fateful trip to Vegas, isn’t on my to do list. There’s nothing to gain by revisiting that night. “It’s not a date.”

“Sure, Romeo. All I’m saying is that it’s nice to see you finally connecting with the opposite sex again. After Lena.” He shakes his head as he marches out of the shed. “No man is an island. Dating, fucking, whatever you want to call it. It’s a good thing.”

Don’t know who he thinks he’s talking to. Celibate bastard.

“It’s not a date,” I grumble under my breath once he’s out of earshot and then I kick at a plank with the steel capped toe of my boot.

Beck Casey was a sweet girl in the wrong place at the wrong time. As intoxicating as the liquor I’d been drowning myself in. We talked about all the places we’d travelled to, music, our families. She was working for a magazine, living an adventure, but it was the quieter places that really drew her in. We’d had an instant connection. Circumstances didn’t help me keep my head and she was mind-blowing enough to distract me.

It wouldn’t have worked out. It was for the best that she disappeared. And now she’s here. But all that does is take me back to the shit that went down with Lena. Dad’s death. Almost losing the studio. I’ve come too far to be ruminating over something that should never have happened. So she’ll get her annulment, and I’ll hold the door open for her to pass through on her way out. That’s all there is to it.

Circumstances are different now. Even though that zing I felt the first time I saw her is still there. Doesn’t mean anything though.

I follow after Dean who’s climbing into the bed of the truck. “We better get a move on.”

“Sure,” he says, waiting for me to slide the next load onto my shoulder. “Wouldn’t want to keep you from getting all cleaned up.” He slaps his own cheeks, making a hollow sound. “A little shave, a dab of cologne, check the expiration date on those condoms.”

“Load up the wood, dickhead.” I mock growl at him, denying the urge to laugh. There’ll be no condoms because there’ll be no sex. Only a swift conversation to wrap up a relationship that doesn’t exist.

“That’s what she’ll be saying to you later.” He grins as he jumps out of the back of the truck. “Let’s hope you can deliver after so long.”

“Dean says you have a date.” Finn stands at ease in my kitchen, a bottle of pale ale in one hand. His tie hangs loosely from the collar of his shirt and undone gray jacket. Christ, he looks much older than his years recently. Exhausted.

“Dean’s full of shit.” I cinch the towel around my hips and run my hand through my hair, messing it. Not going to any effort for a legal practicality. Hell, I could cancel, and she could still deal with the issue. Don’t plan on cancelling though. Haven’t got her phone number, and she’s waiting for me.

“Yes, our brother does have a mouth on him. Can’t say it’s a surprise though.”

“Not when he’s related to you.” I drag my fingers over my trimmed jaw. Not quite clean, but not the beard it was earlier either.

“Go fuck yourself.” He laughs.

Two fat paws thud on the counter and then two more as my Maine Coon sits himself down in short reach of Finn’s hand.

“Hollander, you beast,” Finn says with affection in his voice. A heavy purr fills the room as he scratches under the fat brown tabby’s mane.

“Who is this girl that deserves to see my brother at his best?” He wrinkles his nose. “Well, perhaps not your best. Looks more like a half-assed attempt to me.”

“Nunya.”

“I don’t think I know...ah, I see what you did. Very funny.” He knocks back about a third of the bottle in one mouthful. “Don’t want to tell me, fine. Can’t say I actually care.”

“Then what are you doing here?” I continue toward the bedroom. Has to be almost nine by now. Time to get dressed and head over to the hotel.

“Jack has a girl over.” Another third of the amber liquid disappears. “A blonde number, all legs and boobs. She’s showing skin and cozying up to our brother. Did you know he liked girls?”

“Of course he does.” I glower at Finn.

“I assumed,” he agrees. “It wouldn’t matter if he didn’t.”

“Point?” I ask.

Still holding onto his beer, he rests it on the counter. “I’ve never seen him with one.”

“Well, now you have.”

“Right. I figured I’d clear out and let them have some space. And Dean said you were meeting some chick, so I thought...” He scrubs a hand over his face, managing to look even more tired. “I really need some uninterrupted sleep.”

He’s working two jobs, or is it three? Just like me. I can’t keep shit straight anymore, but he’s the one who seems to be wearing thin. Probably because until three months ago he was supporting our youngest brother too. Wasn’t my choice for him to move back here, or throw his lot in with me, even if I do appreciate it. Tried to talk him out of it, but never was much good at talking Finn out of looking after people. Giving him the cabin for the night so he can get some real rest is the least I can do. I’ll find somewhere else to sleep tonight. Crash at Dean’s, or pull up a piece of patio furniture in the shed. “The cabin is yours for the night.”

“Thanks, man.”

“I’m going to get dressed.” I walk into the single bedroom.

“Wouldn’t want to keep your woman friend waiting,” he taunts. 

“Make yourself useful, will you, and feed Hollander.” I shut the door and rifle through the top draw of my armoire. Red alder and cast iron. The blind dovetail joins had been particularly hard to get right back then, but it’s still my favorite piece. Well, that and the guitars dad and I crafted together before he died. I don’t know what he’d make of these past couple years. Or this situation with Beck.

Dropping the towel, I pull on boxer briefs and a T-shirt without holes before reaching for a pair of pants. Probably should wear something neat and not too casual. Nope, this isn’t a date. It’s a lucky jeans kind of situation. I unfold the soft worn denim and drag them on. These jeans have gotten me through some of the most intense moments of my life. Kind of feels right to wear them tonight.

Finn knocks on the door as he shoves it wide open.

“Your phone rang, I answered.” He shrugs unapologetically. “You want to take this.”

I take my phone from him. Jack’s number is on the screen. Can’t see why Finn didn’t take a message from our youngest brother. “What’s going on?”

A woman’s voice surprises me. “Nox Casey? It’s Olivia Houghton. We met this afternoon. You married my friend two years ago.”

“I remember,” I answer. Like I could forget.

Finn’s face gets long, his brows shooting up while his jaw drops. “You’re m—”

I clamp my hand over his mouth while she talks. “You’re meeting her tonight, right?”

Glaring at Finn, I warn him to keep his mouth shut while I lift my wrist to check the time. “In about twenty minutes.”

“Great. I want you to tell her you don’t want an annulment.”

“What?”

“Tell her you want to make this marriage work.”

“You’re joking.” She has to be. There’s absolutely no reason for her to be serious. Unless...did Beck put her up to this? Does she feel bad about running out that morning and maybe wonders if there’s something real to be had here? I always expected that she would show up at some point. Took her time about it though so hard to believe that she wants something other than an annulment from me now. Should be happy about that. After Lena, I can’t believe that I’d consider letting another woman in, but marriage was a big deal to my parents. My dad would tell me to find a way to make it work. And with Beck...there was something real. It sure felt more than just physical.

“I’m not, and I’m prepared to make it worth your while, Mr. Casey.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I cross the room to pick up my wallet and keys. Then back to the bed where I almost pocket a condom, but the expiration date is some time last year, and I have no intentions of listening to Beck’s apparently crazy friend. Hollander prowls in and curls up in the middle of the bed, and I pull on the floor to ceiling, wall to wall blinds, shutting out the dimming view of the valley and all those damn oranges.

“I hear you have a cash flow problem. I want to help you with that.”

“Hand the phone to Jack right now,” I grumble. “Whatever he’s told you...he had no business. Put my ass of a brother on the phone.”

“Calm down,” she says. “Jack didn’t tell me your financial situation. All he did was put me in contact with you. I’m a business woman, Mr. Casey. I prefer to find and research my own facts. You’re Dalton Casey’s eldest son. You own Casey Records, or what’s left of it. The building is shut down and quite frankly worse for wear. You haven’t produced any music since your father passed. And you’re working several jobs, correct?”

“Yes, but—”

“Stay married to my friend for three months, and I will pay down the note on the building and provide you with half a million dollars.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Not crazy. I just have enough money that I can invest as I see fit.”

“Invest? We’re talking about marriage. Three months of it, when clearly your friend isn’t interested. And quite frankly the last thing I need is women meddling with my life. I have no idea how this benefits you. Or either of us.”

“My friend—” she sighs “—doesn’t understand relationships. As far as she’s concerned emotions are an evolutionary failure. But she married you.”

“We were drunk.”

“It doesn’t matter how it happened. Only that it did happen. Now, will you choose to profit from the situation or not?”

“I...”

“You should do it,” Finn says.

Spinning around to find him still by the door, I glare at him. “Are you eavesdropping?”

“Not exactly. Jack’s friend talks loudly. I can hear everything she’s saying.” He holds his palms out in front of him and raises one shoulder. “You should consider her offer. You married this girl, after all. Whoever she is.”

“Beck. And it was a mistake. Don’t you have something better to do?”

“You’re going to see her tonight,” he reminds me.

“To end the mistake,” I clarify. That shouldn’t be hard for him to understand.

“Even though neither of you have tried to end the marriage in the last two years, so it mustn’t have been that big a mistake.”

I tried to find her after she bolted from my hotel room. Looked her up when I couldn’t. But since I couldn’t remember her maiden name, the girl was a ghost. “It was plenty big,” I snap. “Don’t try to counsel me.”

“Fine.” He gives me one of his patented I don’t have the patience for your bullshit scowls. “But you should still do it.”

“Why?”

“Because we all need to sleep, Nox. We’ve been pushing shit uphill for two years. We’re only just getting our feet under us. Three months for half a million and Casey Records owned outright. It’s a small price to pay, isn’t it?”

“Sure.” I roll my eyes. Such a small price.

“You’ll do it?” Liv’s eager voice in my ear almost makes me jump.

“You’ll do it,” Finn says, matter of fact.

“This is my life we’re talking about,” I grumble.

“I know it’s a nightmare, but we need you to do this, Nox,” Finn argues. “Besides, you know Dad would want you to try and make it work with this Beck chick. Married is married.”

“What about Beck? Does she know you’re trying to set her up?” I ask Liv.

“No,” she admits. “She‘d never in a million years agree to it, which is why you can’t tell her.”

“Do you expect me to make her fall in love with me or something?” What if she does? That’s the last thing I need. Don’t want that at all. Thought I wanted it that morning she disappeared. I was mind fucked back then. Now? Don’t need the trouble.

“No. I wouldn’t ask that of you. It’s probably not realistic. She doesn’t believe in love. All you need to do is make it through three months of real married life. It won’t be easy though.”

I can handle it. “I wouldn’t expect so.”

I stalk out to the kitchen, and Finn flops onto my couch, his feet sticking over the end, and kicks off his shoes.

“You don’t believe you could deal with her?” She sounds perplexed.

Staying married to the woman for another three months won’t be so bad. We’ve been married for almost two years now. And this last little bit, it’s for a good cause. “No, I could definitely...” I’m being handled right now, aren’t I? Wheedled and cajoled into agreeing to this deal. “Always this charming in business, Liv?”

“Only when I need to be.”

A rumbling freight train fills the cabin with noise. Just Finn, asleep on his back. He has a point. Taking Liv’s deal would get my family back on their feet. I could pay my siblings back and make good on my promise to dad to take care of his legacy. I could get Casey Records running again. Restore it. Maybe even do something that would have made the old man proud.

“Are you near a railroad?” Liv asks curiously.

“No. That’s not... It’s nothing.” Am I really considering this crazy plan? “But why is this so important to you if your friend doesn’t believe in love?”

“Because she married you.”

“I don’t get it,” I say.

She laughs like it’s the greatest joke in the world. “If you knew her, you’d understand how big that truly is.”

I rap on the door to room 107 and wait. I’m fifteen minutes late thanks to the conversation with Liv. We’re probably not off to a good start. Though I’m supposed to be here to talk about annulling the marriage, not making it real, so it probably doesn’t matter. Beck Casey will most likely hate my guts from this point on.

The door finally opens, and I catch my breath. There’s that same overwhelming crush in my chest from earlier today. That same sensation that washed over me when I said hello to a stranger at a bar in Vegas, and she twisted on her stool to smile at me. “Damn it, you’re still just as beautiful.”

Her blue eyes widen and then narrow as though she’s not sure what to make of my admission. Can’t blame her. I didn’t expect it either. “Will you come in?”

“Absolutely.” I follow her as she turns and walks back into the suite. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

The room is huge. One of the bigger rooms the Lakeside Hotel offers. The large dining table is littered with clothing, shoes, and minibar bottles of champagne. The ones that hold about one glass, two for a lightweight.

“Work. I’m a journalist for an online publication.”

Something inside my gut tightens unexpectedly. We talked a lot that night. About life and art and music. But there are things about my past I didn’t tell her. Doesn’t mean she couldn’t have dug up the information herself. “There’s something around here that’s worth writing about?”

“I don’t know yet. But I’ll be spending a few months here while Liv gets this hotel running the way she likes and there are a few landmarks I want to check out. I hope that isn’t going to be an issue.” She makes her way toward the couch in bare feet, folding them under her when she sits. Her eyes are a little glazed. She picks up her laptop from the coffee table where half a dozen hotel mugs with cherry red lipstick stains on the rims sit in stages of coffee consumption interruptus. A Nikon sits beside several books that are stacked on a lamp table.

“Nope. No issue.” That’s only going to make it easier to keep my end of the deal I made with Liv.

“I’m not sure how we go about this. I’ve been trying to work it out.” She pats the couch beside her. “I looked it up to see if perhaps we were lucky and it had never been registered.”

“And?” I sit down beside her, carefully, giving her space. Don’t want to throw her off just yet.

“Unfortunately, we’re very married, Mr. Casey.”

“Nox. Call me Nox.”

“Okay then, Nox. We’re very married and have been these past twenty-one months. Proving the marriage invalid might be a touch difficult considering the amount of time that’s passed and that we consummated it.” She glances at me out of the corner of her eye while she blushes.

They’re some of my favorite memories too. “It was quite the night.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” She squirms away from me. Not enough to be rude, just enough that I notice. “All that alcohol. I have little recollection.”

I glance at her thigh, where one of her hands is balled up in a fist, and then reach for a magazine in the spread on the table. “Rock Rag? August 2001?”

“Yes. Research.”

“Sophie Valentine was the spread, right?” I flick through. “You said you were a fan of The Valentines, if I recall.”

“I did.” She plucks the magazine from my hands and puts it back with High Frequency and Chorded. “I met her once. Didn’t marry her though.”

“I suppose if you had you wouldn’t be trying to work out how to void it.”

“Would anyone? She’s amazing. That voice.” She puts the laptop down on the glass topped table. Last time we’d been near a glass table she’d been more than eager to make our wedding night real. “Like an angel.”

“I might know a guy.” I shrug. “Who thinks she’s the devil.”

She snorts, settling back into the plush leather and dragging a pillow onto her lap. “I think I remember you making me laugh.”

I had. As much as possible. Couldn’t get enough of the way her eyes lit up and crinkled in the corners because of me. “I liked putting a smile on your face. Made me happy.”

“You weren’t when you came to the bar.” She frowns as she drops the pillow over the side of the couch and gets up.

No, I wasn’t, but she’d made me smile. It was some kind of magic. I follow her movements across the room. “It had been a rough day.”

She opens the fridge and pulls out another one of those mini champagne bottles along with a couple of tiny liquor bottles. “Do you drink red label?”

“Sure.”

“Great.” She snags a tumbler from a tray on top of the fridge and walks back to where I’m sitting. I watch her legs. Long, tanned pins, shapely, flexible, and dangerous to a man’s pulse. She’s wearing tiny crushed cotton shorts with daisies on them and a long-sleeved T-shirt, despite having the air conditioning running at an almost icy level. Can’t drag my gaze from them. Even when she stops right in front of me and drops the glass in my lap. “Time to work out the quickest and easiest way out of this mess.”

Might be the nicest mess I’ve ever found myself in.