Chapter Twenty-Six

Trig

Maggie and I are going to marry in a non-denominational chapel. It’s part of a historical hotel in town. Years ago, it was the carriage house, now it’s a wedding venue. My brother is as nervous as I’ve ever seen him and says he wants to say a prayer with me and Maggie.

Jane, who has appointed herself the MC, refuses to allow it at first, because I can’t see Maggie until we’re both standing in front of the judge. The two of them go back and forth, not actually bickering but definitely arguing. Finally, they work out a solution. Maggie will stand inside the chapel while I reach around the heavy wooden door and take hold of her hand.

I’ve never held her hand before, rarely even touched her. The instant I feel her hand in mine a jolt of raw possessive need shoots through me. I’m aware of her like I never have been before. She stands on the other side of the door, inches away in that sweet dress she took a picture of. I stand at the door of the chapel holding my girl’s hand and understanding a little better the concept of both heaven and hell.

I’d like a thousand things. Mostly I’d like to tug her out from behind the door and kiss her sweet mouth. At least I’ll get a chance to kiss her in a few moments. Another thing I’d like to tell her is that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.

I try to pay attention to Wes as he asks for the Lord’s blessing and guidance. I know he wants to ask for forgiveness, too. He’s sure what we’re doing is fraudulent. I can’t tell him how much I want to do this, or how much I love Maggie. If he knew how much I cared for her and craved her, he’d snatch her away from me. He’s probably silently praying none of the Morning Lion’s group finds out about this.

I can handle this arrangement. That’s what I tell myself. Maggie will live with Wes and Jane. I’ll still hunger for her but I would never cross the line. I’m sure of that, but having her at Wes and Jane’s house guarantees my good behavior.

Wes finishes the prayer. I hear Maggie’s soft “amen” and she lets go of my hand. I wait outside while Maggie, Jane and Gwen hurry off somewhere, out of sight, I assume. Wes and I go to the front of the chapel and wait with the judge.

The four boys, all dressed in identical suits, sit on the front row. They wear boutonnieres and bored expressions. None of them seem surprised Maggie and I are getting married. Mostly, they complain about how much the ties bother them. All of them, even Michael, squirm and make faces.

From the back of the church, music starts. Gwen and Jane walk Maggie out of a side chamber.

When she sent me the picture of her in the dress, she’d pretty much wrecked me, but seeing her coming towards me is a thousand times more devastating. I can hardly breathe. Her hair is swept up and adorned with little flowers. Her grey eyes are huge. Terrified. I manage a smile, wishing I could calm her.

This wedding might be crazy, but it’s nothing compared to what I’d do for her. Anything. Helping her with this is a relief. It lifts some of the guilt from my conscience, guilt about the things I’ve imagined.

She gives her flowers to Jane and takes my hands.

I hardly hear the judge’s words and Maggie has to prompt me to say “I do.” Wes hands me the ring and I slip it on her finger, before brushing my lips against hers. A soft kiss. That’s all I allow myself.

The boys don’t care for the kiss. They make gagging noises and Maggie laughs.

“You had me worried there for a minute.”

“Why?”

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to remember your lines.”

I keep her hand in mine and we walk out of the chapel. “I was distracted.”

“By what?”

I’m not going to tell her what I was thinking, so I say nothing. As soon as we’re out of the chapel, we’re on to the next thing anyway, so she doesn’t persist.

Gwen snaps pictures and I wonder if Wes is actually smiling in any of them. He hasn’t given me any more grief but I’m picking up that he’s worried I’ll fling Maggie over my shoulder, carry her off and ravish her.

I drive the ladies back to the house and all the way home, Gwen and Jane talk about Maggie’s ring.

“I didn’t expect you’d get me a ring, Trig.”

“And it’s huge,” Jane exclaims.

I’ve never bought jewelry for a woman before. I knew I wanted something amazing for Maggie. I went into the store in my work clothes and the jeweler tried to direct me to some of the smaller rocks. When I picked out a four-carat diamond, he frowned, but as soon as I took out my credit card he had a smile on his face.

The ring makes her happy and it tells the world she’s off the market. Win, win. I don’t know who she was messing around with but I’ve marked her now. She’s mine, even though I won’t claim her.

“I’ll give it back to you, Trig.”

We’re pulling into the driveway. I stop the car, put it in park and turn to look at her. “What?”

I try to tamp down my anger. Why the hell would she tell me she’ll give me the ring back an hour after I slid it on to her finger?

“The judge, if he allows me to stay, will tell me how long we need to be married. When that’s over, I’ll give the ring back.”

“What in the hell am I going to do with it?”

Gwen pops open the door and gets out. Jane scrambles after her, saying something about talking to the caterer.

“I don’t know what you’ll do with it,” Maggie snaps.

“The ring is yours. Don’t offer to give it back unless you want to piss me off.”

Pressing her lips together, she gives me a funny look. I’m not sure if she’s upset or trying to keep from laughing. Then I see the gleam in her eyes.

“We’re having our first argument.” She grins at me. “A whole hour after getting married.”

I can’t tear my eyes from her mouth. Back at the chapel, I kissed those lips and I’d like to pull her onto my lap and kiss her again. I’d take my time, stroke her with my tongue and by the time I was done, her sassy smile would be long gone. In my dreams I’ve tasted those lips a thousand times.

“We went a whole sixty minutes without an argument. And you pretty much started it,” she says lightly. Shaking her head she goes on. “How are you going to explain that to the grand-kids, mister?”

I liked it better when she barely talked to me, or looked freaked out and afraid whenever I walked into the room. Being teased by Maggie is going to seriously challenge my self-control. Her playful tone makes my blood heat and my cock harden.

A few cars have pulled up behind me and another on the street. Wes and Jane, who planned on keeping this thing on the down low, have invited family friends and neighbors. I invited a few guys from the shop. People are arriving and are going to wonder what Maggie and I are doing sitting in the truck.

“We better greet our guests, Mrs. Kendal.”

Her eyes shine with amusement. “I guess we’d better, Mr. Kendal.”

We get out and I take her hand as we head into the house. She thinks she’s scored a point. Normally that would irritate me, but holding her hand in mine and having her near makes me happy. I’ll let her score as many points as she wants when her hands in mine, or at least half of them.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Maggie

Mel, the guy whose job I had for a few weeks, is on his third piece of cake. He’s worked for the Kendal Garage since Trig’s dad first opened. He’s also thin as a rail with collarbones most girls would kill for. He probably should have as much cake as he wants.

“Never thought Trig was the marrying type. Wes is, for sure, but Trig always struck me as a lady’s man.”

I try to look interested but I’m wishing he would just stop talking. I know this marriage thing is make-believe, but that doesn’t mean I want to know about Trig’s love life. I glance over at my husband of four hours. He’s talking to Michael, leaning down to hear, smiling so big his dimples pop.

My breath catches. Trig is incredibly handsome. I have to admit that, even if it’s only to myself. Dressed in a dark grey suit he looks like he just stepped off a magazine cover and it’s not hard to imagine women throwing themselves at his feet.

“He was always a catch and release sort of fisherman,” Mel says. “You git my meaning? He never wanted to go through the fuss and bother of bringing home a trophy and having it mounted.”

A trophy? A mounted trophy? Nice. I’m picturing a large-mouthed bass over the mantle. I’d like to bitch about this, tell Mel to go jump in a bass-filled lake, but I’m in a wedding dress. Seems a little untoward.

I smile at Mel. “Well, if nothing else I’m a lot of fuss and bother.” Leaning down to the remains of the wedding cake, I drag my finger along the edge of icing some fool left behind. I know it’s not lady-like but I can’t resist. When lick my fingertip I catch Trig staring. Probably because he heard what I said and agrees that I’m trouble.

Mel wanders away with his cake. I’m about to steal more icing when Gwen hurries into the room, a look of alarm on her face. Glancing around the room, she purses her lips and beckons Jane. The two speak together, heads bent and then they both look at me, their faces stricken.

They’ve handled the wedding details perfectly. I’m so grateful and I’m sure that anything that goes wrong at this point wouldn’t matter much. The caterers have already taken the chafing dishes. The party feels like it’s winding down.

I cross the room. “What’s the matter?”

Trig’s noticed their distress too and comes to my side. He slides his hand around my waist and even though I know it’s for show, I love it anyway. Sparks of pleasure light my skin. His hands are big and strong and undeniably sexy. I lean against him and relish the way his body feels. Incredibly hard, muscled and masculine. No wonder women want him.

“I just spoke with one of my partners in Houston. Gerald has worked on immigration cases before and he said this marriage thing will be scrutinized. Heavily.”

“So?” Trig drawls. “What are they going to prove, exactly?”

Gwen folds her arms across her chest. “They’ll prove that she didn’t live with you.”

I close my eyes and wish Gwen away. I’m having such a nice evening. I don’t need her to rain on my parade. This is a farce. How can people not know that? I won’t live with Trig because we’re not really married. I resist the urge to step on a nearby chair and announce that, loud and clear.

Gwen tugs my arm, pulling me into the kitchen. “When you meet with the judge, he’ll ask you questions about your life together.”

Trig laughs incredulously. “What kind of questions, Gwen?”

“Very personal ones.” Her cheeks redden.

Jane claps her hand over her mouth.

“Maggie needs to live with you. At least until she stands before the judge.”

Trig’s smile fades. I’m sure he’s wondering why he ever agreed to this. Today, in the chapel, he didn’t say his “I do” when the judge asked. I had to squeeze his hands to get him to lose his dazed look. Poor guy. He probably wanted to run out of the chapel as fast as he could.

“We agreed she was going to live here.” Trig’s voice is low.

Jane draws a deep breath. “There’s a solution to every problem. I’m sure this will be just fine. Maggie can stay with you till her court date. That’s what we’ll do.”

I close my eyes and rub my forehead, wishing the ground would open up and swallow me.

“It’s just for a short while, Trig.” Jane sets her hand on his forearm. “Maggie’s no trouble. You’ll probably get attached to her and won’t want to give her back.”

“Great. Thanks Jane. Way to make me sound like a dog from the shelter. Don’t forget to tell him I’m almost house-trained.”

“Maggie’s no trouble. It’s just that…” His voice fades.

“What?” I snap at him. “Having your wife in the house might make dating awkward?”

His eyes darken. “I’m not dating anyone.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, please. Spare me.”

“Speak for yourself, Maggie,” he growls. “You’re the one walking around with a hickey on your neck.”

Both Gwen and Jane turn to stare at me, eyes wide. Their gazes drift down to my neck.

I wave a hand dismissively. “It’s not there anymore, okay?”

“What’s not there anymore?” Wes asks, coming into the kitchen.

“Nothing,” Trig and I shout in unison.

I draw a deep breath and go on in a calmer voice. “Gwen says I need to live with Trig at least until the court date.”

My tone is neutral, I think, but inside I’m freaking out. Live… with Trig. Holy shit.

Wes stops in his tracks, stunned and then turns to Trig. “Do you have something to do with this?”

Trig shakes his head. He looks furious but doesn’t say anything to Wes.

Gwen crosses her arms. “The judge will probably interview them to find out if they actually know anything about each other. If he does this separately, and they contradict each other, it might cast doubt on the marriage.”

Wes looks horrified. Like my going to Trig’s house would be the worst thing ever. I’m sure Trig agrees.

“It will be fine,” I tell them. “I’ll be a good houseguest, Trig. I promise. Just spread a little newspaper for me in the corner.”

He doesn’t look amused or relieved. At all.

Jane sets her hands on her hips. “Come on! This isn’t the end of the world. Maggie and Trig are going to be just fine. I think it’s a great idea. Maggie will have a quiet house to study in. Trig will have someone there to help him if he gets one of his headaches.”

I draw a sharp breath. His headaches. There’s a part of Trig that I know all about. I haven’t been to his home since that night. I’d spent the whole night in his arms. Every time I tried to slip away, he’d growl and pull me back. After a dozen attempts, I finally escaped. Not that I wanted to. Mostly I wanted to avoid hearing him murmur more words intended for another.

Jane smiles at Trig and me. “What’s the worst that could happen?”