Page 14 of Bad Boy Husband
SADIE
S hopping with Collins yesterday had been awful, but at least she had helped me pick out a dress I knew my mother would approve of. Claira, my mom, was friends with Collins’ mom, and apparently, she’d been shopping with them before.
Collins had assured me Mom loved the boutique she’d taken me to, and while I wouldn’t usually be caught dead in a getup like this, I knew how important it was to keep up appearances.
My parents and I were already on the outs again, and at this point, wearing a true southern belle dress was the least I could do in an attempt to smooth things over.
Nerves fluttered through me where I sat on the back seat of Trent’s truck.
The leather was warm under my legs, the sunshine bright outside.
It was a beautiful day. My mother would be thrilled about the way the weather was holding up for their big barbecue, but I doubted that would make her take it any easier on me.
I glanced out at the familiar highway, wondering why Carson felt it was absolutely necessary to keep inching closer. My brother’s truck could probably fit an entire volleyball team in the back, but Carson and I were sharing a single seat and my patience with him was rapidly thinning.
The last thing I’d needed today was someone crowding me while I was about to see my parents for the first time after our last big blowout. Trent had insisted that Carson should ride out with us, though.
He tried. I would give him that. Poor Carson really was doing his best to coax me out of my head and draw me into small talk that might’ve eased the tension inside, but I just really needed some space. “So, Sadie. Do you get back to Dallas often?”
“Mmm,” I hummed, noncommittal, my eyes fixed on the road outside.
He asked how long I was staying and a few other things, but I wasn’t really focusing on him. He was too close. Too kind. Right now, it was making me feel too stifled.
Besides, my ears were busy trying to catch the conversation up front. Jameson and Trent were talking business, something about acquisitions, leases, and a set of numbers that made my stomach turn with how big they were.
Jameson’s voice was hollow, though. Strangely flat. Like he would have preferred talking about anything else. It was intriguing because I’d been so sure he loved his job and now I was trying to figure out what he wasn’t actually saying.
Anything to distract myself from the afternoon I’m about to have.
Trent eventually steered them to the topic of tax write-offs, which he loved to have lively debates about, but Jameson sounded as bored with that as he had talking about his job. “I give to a few nonprofits in the city.”
Trent laughed like he’d just heard the joke of the day. “Yeah, right. Since when do you donate to anything that doesn’t come with bottle service? Was the nonprofit a bar that employs women who are dancing their way through law school?”
“Nope.” Jameson scoffed. “Dancing your way through law school is hard work, though. Nothing wrong with supporting those women.”
My brother chuckled. “So that is what you donate to then?”
“Nah.” His voice dropped low enough that I almost missed what he said next. “The last organization I gave to was an animal shelter, not a strip club.”
It hit me like a spark. My breath caught. The memory of that anonymous donation flashed bright across my mind. On instinct, I shifted forward. My hand braced on the center console as I tried to catch his eye, but he didn’t turn.
Keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead with his jaw tight, his fingers drummed against the arm rest. So that was him. Why?
Carson kept rambling about the weather, or the ranch, or maybe the price of hay. I hadn’t listened to a single word for so long, it was hard to say, but at least Trent had included him in some kind of conversation now, which took the pressure off me having to talk to him.
We turned off the highway onto a much narrower road that ran between sun-bleached pastures with oaks on either side shading the dirt from the Texas heat. The ranch came into view a few moments later. The sight of the white fences gave me mild heart palpitations.
As Trent turned onto the stone driveway, my palms started sweating. Their huge house rose up ahead as we raced closer, standing proudly against the gorgeous blue sky with flags snapping in the breeze.
Smoke curled up from the firepit where the smoker was and I caught the scent of mesquite and brisket before we’d even parked. Trent inhaled and groaned as he killed the engine. “Man, there’s nothing like that smell.”
Jameson nodded, but he was quiet as he climbed out and stepped onto the gravel as if he owned it. Trent followed, calling greetings to the staff walking by and introducing those who hadn’t met Jameson yet.
Carson offered me a hand out of the truck and I took it even though I could manage just fine on my own. Today was all about keeping up appearances and I knew there would be eyes on me, even now.
As soon as I turned away from the truck, I realized I’d been right. My parents were waiting near the front steps. Dad’s tie was already loose and Mom’s face split into that wide, polished smile she reserved for parties and photographers.
She practically started glowing as Jameson approached, giving him a kiss on the cheek and letting out a delighted laugh that scraped down my spine. I didn’t know what he’d said, but she was acting as if he was the most charming prince in all the land.
As I rolled my eyes, her gaze cut to mine and I saw her noticing Carson at my side, standing just a fraction too close.
A smug, tiny smirk twitched at the corners of her lips, but it was gone a beat later.
I sighed but accepted Carson’s arm when he held it out to me, only to find Jameson staring at me from the front steps.
Clearly, my mother thought everything was going according to her plan, but that look in Jameson’s eyes told me he still had a plan too, and I was almost certain I would like his better. Even so, I found myself immediately sucked into conversation with my parents and Carson as they led us inside.
Trent had grabbed Jameson and was pulling him to the bar. My parents’ house was expansive, a nine-bedroom lodge built out of stone with a wide, wraparound porch and ceilings high enough to fit a high-dive platform in the foyer.
Naturally, that meant Jameson was soon out of my sight, laughing with my brother as they disappeared.
I sighed but followed my parents to the gazebo in the backyard.
They were fawning over Carson but quickly shut down any mention of my love for animals even as he asked about my interests and how I’d liked growing up on a ranch.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. They didn’t need me here for a conversation they weren’t letting me be a part of anyway, so I stood up and politely excused myself. “I’m going to say hi to everyone. I’ll be back.”
The corners of my mom’s eyes tightened, but she couldn’t exactly snap at me for wanting to greet the staff who had been with us for years. Carson flashed those pearly teeth when he grinned. “That’s cool. Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll make sure there’s a nice cold drink waiting for you when you get back.”
Biting my tongue so I wouldn’t tell him that I hadn’t been asking for his permission, I nodded and forced a smile. “That’s very sweet of you. Thanks.”
Hightailing it back into the house before my parents could suggest that he join me, I made a beeline for the stables, needing a few minutes to breathe. Hanging out with the horses seemed like the perfect way to do that.
Tugging at the tight corset of my dress, I wondered if I could just take it off for a minute, but Jameson walked through the wide open barn doors a second later, effectively eliminating my opportunity to strip down.
Silhouetted by the early afternoon sun, his artfully messy hair glowed like a warm halo around his head, the strong lines of his shoulders accentuated in this light.
“I thought I might find you here,” he said offhandedly, as if what he’d come to discuss was no more important and no less inevitable than the weather. “I’m flying back to San Francisco tonight. I was hoping we could finish that conversation before I leave.”
From the shadows of the stable, I let my gaze drift to the party unfolding on the lawn in the distance.
Carson had a drink in his hand, talking to my dad like he’d known him his whole life.
Mom was with them, probably already telling herself some fairy tale about how the Shepard reputation would be saved because I was finally doing something right.
I let out a slow breath and turned back to Jameson. “Why did you do it?”
“Do what?” He frowned. “Come find you? I just told you I wanted to talk before my flight and I don’t foresee many opportunities for that this afternoon.”
“No, Jamie,” I said, my voice a whole lot softer and gentler than I’d meant for it to be. “The donation. Fifty thousand dollars doesn’t just fall out of someone’s bank account by accident.”
He looked at me for a long second, exhaling a breath through his nose before he shook his head. “I didn’t need a reason, Sadie. I just wanted to, so I did it.”
The answer wasn’t even a good one. It definitely shouldn’t have made my chest feel warm and stupidly tight, but it did. I glanced back at the party, looking out at the carefully staged picture of my would-be future, and swallowed.
“I don’t need a month,” I said, not really knowing what exactly I was agreeing to, but I knew that what was going on out there wasn’t a future I wanted. “Let’s just do it. Let’s get married.”
Those hazel eyes narrowed. A lock of hair fell across his forehead as his chin lowered in confusion. “What?”
“I’ve changed my mind,” I said, my heart hammering now that the words were out. “I just want to get it over with, so I’ll fly back tonight too and I’ll meet you at the courthouse tomorrow. Done.”
For half a breath, I thought he might actually agree, but then he took a few steps forward until he was close enough that I could smell his cologne, the scent faint, warm, and clean. With his eyes fixed on mine, he slid his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it.
“No,” he said, voice low but firm. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”
It turned out that doing it right meant a neat, professional-looking PDF with paragraphs and bullet points and my name along with his in the header.
“Is that a contract?” I asked, blinking as I took the phone from him. “It doesn’t look like a prenup.”
“That’s because it’s not. It’s an engagement agreement.
” One corner of his mouth twitched like he wanted to smirk.
“Basically, it provides for what we agreed to the other night. We’ll live together in my townhouse for one month.
You’ll move in and I’ll be there as much as I can so we’ll be able to get a feel for each other.
Once that period expires, we’ll sit down and decide whether we take the next step. ”
“At which point, you’ll meet me at the courthouse?”
He lost his battle against the smirk and my heart skipped a beat as it played across his lips. “No, Sadie. We’ll have a real wedding if it gets that far.”
“And if it doesn’t?” I asked, knowing that despite the effect he had on me, I still had to use my head or risk regretting it. “What if we sit down after a month and decide not to get married?”
“Then we walk away.” His gaze was completely unwavering. “You’ll still get a hundred thousand dollars for putting up with me for a month though.”
The words sank in, slow and heavy, and my jaw slackened. “You’d pay me even if I don’t go through with the marriage?”
It sounded so cold, but it also sounded like Jameson.
He was trying to offer me an escape hatch that would allow me to make my own decisions without having to worry about being destitute.
Standing this close to him, my heartbeat had skyrocketed, and the more intently he was looking at me, the harder it was becoming to think straight.
I was still attracted to him. Time had never changed that, and being in such close quarters with him all weekend… I swallowed hard. “Why would you do that?”
“I’m a billionaire, Sadie. A hundred thousand dollars is nothing. If you’re as smart as I think you are, you’ll stick around to see what’s being offered in the prenup, but either way, you deserve options. Choices.”
Shit, he’s really serious about this. It’s not just some scheme to him. “You really thought this through, huh?”
His jaw flexed, hazel eyes locked on mine, still standing close enough that my pulse jumped painfully. “We might be doing it unconventionally, but we’re still talking about getting married. If we go through with it, it deserves to be thought through, don’t you think?”
For a second, neither of us spoke. The sounds of the party blew in on the breeze, music, laughter, and the happy chatter of a whole bunch of people who had no idea that I was about to agree to get engaged.
“Okay,” I murmured breathlessly. “One month. Let’s do it.”
Relief softened the expression in his eyes, a hint of a real smile ghosting across his lips.
“Good. Living together for a few weeks before we finalize anything will make all of this go a lot smoother. I’ll have time to navigate both our families and give my mom the wedding she didn’t get when Sterling and Laney got married.
It’s a good idea, Sades. I’m really glad we’re doing it. ”
As he turned to rejoin the party, he suddenly looked back at me again, his gaze intense and serious. “Fly back with me tonight. I’d rather you come home than stay here any longer than you have to. It’s kind of been looking like it’s stressing you out.”
Without making any kind of big deal about it, he let that smirk settle on his lips and slid his hands into his pockets, walking out of the barn like he hadn’t just negotiated a fucking engagement. As I watched him leave, I realized that I was feeling a lot more confident myself.
It felt like I could finally breathe again, my chest expanding without the weight of an elephant crushing down on it. I smiled to myself and held back a squeal, but once he was gone, it only took a moment before reality sank in like an ice cold, wet blanket.
I had just agreed to move in with and potentially marry Jameson Westwood.
My secret ex-boyfriend.
The same guy who had absolutely shattered my heart all those years ago. I’d never felt pain like that before and I wouldn’t survive going through it again. I vowed to myself that I would be careful.
One month, and if I caught so much as a whiff of that same level of heartbreak on the horizon again, I would walk away. A hundred thousand dollars richer to give myself the room I needed to figure out my next steps.