Chapter 6

Gracen

Staring at the ceiling fan turning lazy circles above me, I consider getting out of bed. I’m craving coffee.

And more cherry pie.

Unfortunately, getting out of bed and starting my day means I’ll have to face Marek in the harsh light of day, and it won’t be awkward at all. No, not after last night when he almost kissed me and I almost let him.

Almost, and it was a struggle to remind him of his true feelings for me. Marek has always been a bigger-than-life presence. Big body, big personality. He exudes confidence and magnetism. I’ve been helplessly drawn to him since I met him my sophomore year of high school when my parents moved to Wilkie. He was a rising senior. I was fifteen and he’d just turned eighteen. I lost my virginity to him three months later when I’d turned sixteen and it was my birthday present to myself.

There was a time when he was helplessly drawn to me. For five beautiful years we were each other’s.

Last night, despite the fact he was drunk off his ass, I almost gave in. If I had let him kiss me, there’s no doubt we’d have probably had sex right there on the kitchen floor. It’s what he wanted, and I knew that because I saw his thick erection pressing against his jeans.

God I loved that cock like I loved him. It was huge, sometimes uncomfortable, but always devoted to me and my pleasure.

Marek used to be devoted to me.

So, so glad I didn’t give in. That would have been messy on a level I would not be able to handle.

It was difficult to keep myself distanced, because one night in bed with Marek again would almost be worth selling my soul to the devil for. No one has ever compared to him, and there have been a few since we broke up. About a year after Lilly was born, I got back into the dating scene at the urging of my parents. They wanted to see me settled and stable. They wanted me to find love again.

It’s not what I wanted, but I’d never tell them that. I only wanted no-strings companionship because it was too hard to trust again. But after a year of lukewarm orgasms, I knew that I’d be better off just staying single, because again, no one could compare to Marek.

Bastard had ruined me for any other man.

Owen was not one I could compare, though. Not in bed anyway, since we’d never had sex. Four months of dating and I never let him get past third base. I’m sure he wasn’t overly bothered by my unwillingness to give it up, since he was still openly fucking the town whore, Lisa Camaretti, the entire time we “dated.”

If you could call blackmail dating.

I’m not even ashamed to say I strung him along for as long as I could until I just couldn’t anymore. It came time when either I had to accept his marriage proposal and commit myself to him, or my parents would suffer. There was no more stringing him along. He held too much leverage and I had no fight left in me. My wedding night with Owen would have been our first time together, and the thought of it makes me sick. The ironic thing about Marek bursting in on me to stop the wedding is that he saved me from a really shitty situation but threw me right into another.

My bedroom door starts to slowly open, the slight squeak of the hinges causing my head to raise up off the pillow. Lilly pokes her head in and gives me a toothy grin.

Pulling my hands out from where they were supporting my head, I hold my arms out to her. “Morning, Lilly Bug.”

“Mommy!” she exclaims, and runs into my room, pulling herself up onto the bed and scrambling to get under the covers with me.

“Sleep good?” I ask her before pressing my lips to the top of her head.

She nods and burrows into me.

Lilly is so freaking affectionate, and she never holds back showing it to me. Her spontaneous hugs and unexpected declarations of “I love you so much, Mommy” are the true joys in my life. No matter how many times she tells me that, my heart melts a million times over, and I feel like there’s nothing I can’t conquer with my daughter by my side. She’s the absolute best thing to ever have happened to me.

“You hungry?” I ask her.

“Pancakes.”

“Pancakes it is,” I promise her as I sit up in the bed, pulling her up with me. I throw the covers back and roll with her out of bed, giving her a little tickle as I do. Her giggles are infectious and I can’t help but laugh.

Once she’s standing on the floor, I give her butt a little pat. “You know the morning drill. Get your Pull-Ups off, throw them away, and put on a pair of big-girl panties.”

“Okay, Mommy,” she says in that ever-agreeable voice of hers.

Lilly’s a fiercely independent girl, and one of the first things she mastered when she turned three was how to dress herself.

For the most part.

She can take her clothes off with some struggle, and put on her underwear, shirt, and pants with a fifty-fifty chance of the tag going in the back. She gets overly frustrated with her socks and shoes, but that kid will try and try until she gets it. I’ve been enjoying her taking over some of these responsibilities. She’s not fully potty trained, still needing to wear pull-up diapers at night. I figure we’ll be tackling that soon enough, but for now she takes a lot of pride in being able to help get herself dressed in the morning, and that’s cool by me. While my heart wants her to stay my baby forever, my soul wants her to conquer the world all on her own.

Lilly runs off to her bedroom and I take a quick moment to slip on some presentable clothing. After Marek’s open ogling of me last night, I know that I have to dress a little more presentably when I’m downstairs.

Just as I’m wrapping my hair up into a messy bun on top of my head, my phone rings. My muscles tense as I recognize Owen’s ringtone. His texts to me have been getting more insistent that we talk, and I’ve been avoiding doing so because it’s the easiest thing to do.

But I don’t like that he’s been going to my parents’ house and I’m sure bullying them, so I decide to take the bull by the horns. Knowing that I’ll end up stringing him along once again, I square my shoulders and pick up my phone.

“Owen,” I say softly into the phone, making it sound almost as if I’m relieved he called me.

“It’s about time you answered my calls,” he responds tersely.

“I’m sorry,” I flat-out lie to him. “It’s been a little difficult to get some alone time.”

“Because you’re spending time with Marek?” he asks curiously, and there’s something completely wrong about the fact there’s not a jealous tinge to his tone. He’s not threatened by Marek because he knows Marek dumped me. He’s completely ignorant about what Marek and I had together, mainly because the man could never understand such a deep love. It’s beyond his capacity. He also believes his leverage over me and my parents is so great that I’d never consider anything else other than returning to him.

Conceited prick.

“I’m facilitating time with Marek and Lilly,” I reply, correcting his assumption.

“How’s that going?” he asks grudgingly, and it’s the only credit I’ll ever give this man. While he never became overly close to Lilly while we were dating, he was always kind to her. I guess his bullish, manipulative ways didn’t extend to kids. He never had to use Lilly to get to me because he already had me by the metaphorical short hairs, so all Owen ever had to do was be nice to Lilly. Over time, Owen actually enjoyed being with Lilly, and he behaved decently around her. Or rather, he wore his sheep’s clothing very well.

“It’s going as well as can be expected,” I tell him, my first truth of the conversation. “Lilly’s starting to understand who he is, and Marek’s trying to learn how to be a father.”

Owen grunts in acknowledgment, and then he’s done with Lilly. He throws the sheep’s skin off a little too easily. “When are you coming back? I’d like to get this wedding done.”

My skin crawls and my stomach churns. “I don’t know. Maybe a few months.”

“Unacceptable,” he says darkly. “I’m a patient man, but not that patient, Gracen. You agreed to be my wife, and when you said you were going to North Carolina with him, you promised it would only be temporary. Until you could get custody worked out with him.”

I close my eyes and rub the bridge of my nose with my free hand. I had to promise him that. I had to give him hope I’d come back so he’d leave my parents alone until I could figure something out.

“Listen.” My voice comes off too desperate and I hate it. It shows him my weakness. “I’ve not been able to exactly talk to Marek about custody. He’s still really pissed at me for keeping Lilly secret, and well…he’s not been the easiest to deal with. I just need a little time—”

“The note’s been accelerated,” Owen cuts in on me and my heart sinks that he’d stoop that low. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

He lets the last few words trail off, leaving the possibility that maybe, just maybe he can help.

The meaning is clear. There’s nothing he’ll do to stave off my parents’ home being foreclosed on unless I come back and marry him.

“I’ve told you, Gracen,” he says in a low voice, rumbling with satisfaction he has me cornered with nowhere to go. “Once we’re married, your parents are my family. I’ll pay off the second mortgage and their house will stay safe.”

I swallow hard, afraid to say anything because I might start crying.

He doesn’t need me to talk, though. He only wants me to listen as he continues. “If the marriage is off, then…well, it’s going to go into foreclosure immediately.”

Fucking bastard. He wants to act like my savior, but the asshole is the one who put my parents in this predicament to begin with. All because he wants me on his arm to show off to our community. I’m nothing more than a pretty possession to him. When I hedged on his marriage proposal, he pulled the strings necessary to remove my parents’ second mortgage—the ones they took out to finance my nursing degree—from a temporary deferral because my father got laid off from his job. The asshole whose father is president of the local bank that had gladly loaned my parents money a few years prior was now pressing his thumb down on them to get me to agree to marry him.

“Can you please get another deferral for them, Owen?” I plead, swallowing hard against the bile my next words produce. “I’ll get my stuff wrapped up here as quickly as I can. I promise. I’m just trying to be delicate where Lilly’s concerned. This is hard on her, so I don’t want to cause any waves with Marek.”

I’m going to hell for lying. I know it, and yet I can’t help it. I’m getting one mess temporarily straightened up so I can deal with another, only to hope the first mess doesn’t implode on me.

“Marek’s an asshole,” Owen says smugly, like I should be ashamed for procreating with him. Not for loving him. “Need me to come down there and fix things for you? I’d be glad to. Will it move things along?”

“No,” I say quickly. “I think giving me a bit of time to get on his good side will be the best strategy.”

“And just how do you plan on doing that?” He chuckles, and I know the jerk is amused by my dilemma.

“By apologizing repetitively for keeping his daughter away from him,” I snap back. “Cut him a break, Owen. I totally wronged him.”

This would be the point that Owen may say, “Who cares? He wronged you.” But he doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know the circumstances of how Marek dumped me and broke my heart. I’ve never shared it with anyone except my parents, who have been my rock-solid support since I found out I was pregnant. They didn’t agree with my decision to keep this from Marek, but they did understand why I did it. They understood how badly he let me down and how utterly alone he left me.

Instead, Owen changes the subject because he doesn’t find the subject of Marek’s and my downfall worthy. “I’m curious…how did he know we were getting married?”

“Someone sent him an email,” I say as I nibble on my thumbnail.

“I bet it was your sister, Bev. She can’t stand me.”

Not many people can stand you, Owen.

“It wasn’t Bev,” I assure him. This I know for a fact. Besides, Bev was beyond delighted that I was marrying Owen and would be moving up in society. She thought it was great.

“I want a committed time frame, Gracen,” Owen says, and my heart starts tripping madly. “I’d like to get the wedding rescheduled.”

“A month,” I whisper into the phone. It’s not nearly enough time for me to figure things out, but I’m hoping it will satisfy him enough to give me the chance.

“Two weeks,” he counters, except it’s not quite a negotiation. When he says “two weeks,” he means it, and there’s no argument. He softens the blow somewhat by saying, “I’ll put in a thirty-day extension on the note for your parents. But after that, I can’t help them anymore.”

“Thank you,” I reply, my tongue feeling as heavy as the weight on my shoulders right now.

“Until then,” he murmurs seductively.

Just gross.

The line goes dead as he hangs up on me, and I realize my hands are sweating.