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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Rook

I wasn’t sure if I’d comforted Tessa or made shit worse by bringing up her fucked-up past.

I mean, no, I had no idea what she’d been through. But everything about how she responded to me—or toward things involving me—made me believe I was on the money about her life prior to Shady Valley involving a fuckuva lot of abuse.

If not physical, then at least mental. And after that whole “I have to” thing, I was pretty sure it was sexual too. Even if she didn’t even recognize that yet herself.

I won’t lie; I wanted to know it all. I wished she would just… walk over, sit down, and spill about everything she’d been through.

But after the party at the club—that I’d left early and crashed in one of the empty bedrooms—I’d woken up to learn that Tessa had already gotten up, eaten breakfast, and headed back to the apartment. According to Coach, who was outside when I went to look for her.

I caught a ride into town with Detroit, who was heading to the gym, and managed to catch Tessa coming out of the bathroom in a towel with another on her head.

“Oh.”

“Sorry,” I said, averting my gaze. “I should have… knocked.”

“On the door of your own apartment?”

“It’s our apartment,” I reminded her.

“I just need a few minutes to get dressed, and I’ll be ready.” At my blank look, she added, “The drug test. We told Nancy we’d go first thing in the morning.”

“Right. Okay. Let me just grab a shower too.”

I’d taken one the night before at the clubhouse, needing a few minutes alone to deal with the frustrated desire that I didn’t want Tessa to know about.

But seeing her in a towel, skin all pink—yeah—I needed another few minutes of alone time before we headed out together.

By the time I came back out of the shower, Tessa was in a pair of cut-off jean shorts that showed off a nice chunk of leg, flip-flops, and a simple white tee.

Still, she was ridiculously fucking gorgeous.

“So how far is this place?”

“It’s about half an hour outside of town.”

“I’m shocked Nancy lets you go that far.”

“Right?” I asked, snorting. “You wanna take your car? Or my bike?”

She whipped around at that, eyes wide.

“We can take the bike?”

That was genuine excitement in her voice. So there was one thing about her former biker club that she did enjoy.

The bikes themselves.

“Yeah,” I said, giving her a smile. “I’ll even let you drive if you want. I’m man enough to ride bitch.”

“No. No, I don’t want to drive. But… you’re sure? What if Nancy is there?”

“Surprisingly, I’m actually allowed to drive. I guess the board didn’t see any reason to restrict that right. I renewed my driver’s and got a motorcycle license. But I don’t drive much. I don’t want to give Nancy a reason to suspend the right.”

“But, since she wanted us to do this drug test outside of town…”

“Exactly.”

“Okay. Let’s go,” she said, practically bouncing as she located her phone and purse. “You have a helmet for me, right?”

“Of course.”

With that, I followed her down the road to where my bike was parked and climbed on.

Tessa fiddled with the helmet strap before jumping on behind me. There was no hesitation as she scooted in close to me, legs wrapped around the outside of mine, her arms around my midsection, and her head against my back.

It wasn’t exactly a romantic date—going to get a piss test together—but I was excited as I turned the bike over.

Tessa’s arms and legs tightened around me as I pulled off from the curb.

It seemed like she was excited too.

I took it slow at first, but as we got on one of the main roads, Tessa’s legs tightened harder, and her legs left my midsection.

She threw them up in the air, letting out a long laugh of joy as the wind whipped around us.

My answering smile was wide.

And, damn, for just a few minutes, I finally felt like a normal person. Someone who didn’t have to answer for everything they did. Someone who wasn’t constantly worried about the fate of their last remaining loved one. Someone who wasn’t faking a marriage with a woman he knew all the superficial details about, but nothing deeper than surface.

Someone who was free. And happy.

We got to the testing center too quickly. And reality came back just as fast.

Then it was all about paperwork and little cups and private rooms where we weren’t allowed to bring anything so we couldn’t contaminate our samples.

“Sorry again about this,” I said as we walked out of the building.

“It’s not the first time I’ve peed in a cup.” At my raised brows, she shrugged. “My mom used to make me do it so she could keep custody of me. Really fucked up cycle, that.”

“Would you have preferred going into foster care?”

“I think that answer would have changed depending on the day.”

“So there were good times?” I asked as we both moved to walk down the street, passing quaint mom-and-pop stores.

“There were times when I was more comfortable with the devil I knew,” she told me. “My mother was never really a mom to me. She was selfish and, at times, outright cruel. I don’t know if that was the drugs or just… her.”

“She was never sober?”

“Well, there were times when she was actively detoxing because she couldn’t earn, steal, or suck her way to the money to get her fix.”

Jesus.

She said it so casually, too.

“Was the club her supplier?”

“Which club?” Tessa asked, shaking her head. “Sometimes, yeah. Other times, no. It probably sounds like it should be the opposite, but it was better at the clubs where the drugs weren’t supplied.”

“Why? Was she better detoxing?”

“She was better when she wasn’t willing to do any favor asked of her, or me, for her next fix.”

I honestly didn’t know what to think of that, what conclusions to draw. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that my mind went to the darkest place possible. Because there were a lot of places in the world where a pretty young girl was very valuable.

“Tessa…”

She glanced over at me, the hurt filling her eyes.

“Yes,” she said, nodding. “But also… no.” I thought she was going to leave it at that. But after we crossed a road and got away from the small crowd we’d been waiting with, she went on. “The deal was made. I was led into the president’s room. Unlike my mom, though, I had my own way of getting drugs. And I crushed them up and slipped them into his can of beer.

“When he came in, I convinced him to finish it. He did. Within a few minutes, he was slurring. Within half an hour, he was out so cold that he didn’t even flinch as I undressed him, tossed a condom in the garbage, and left.”

“I’m sorry. Your mom deserved jail time for that. How old were you?”

“Fourteen.”

Christ.

“How did you prevent it from happening again?”

“By stealing the drugs the same way I had to drug the president with. I kept her high enough to not get desperate then stayed as out of sight as possible. Though, eventually, someone did notice all the missing pills. They blamed my mom. We got kicked out.”

“Seems like that was maybe for the best.”

“Depends on how you look at it,” she said, but it was clear from her tone that she wasn’t about to elaborate on that. “Wait, did we walk away from the bike, or—oh,” she paused, looking in the window beside us.

I turned too, finding a plate glass window with a trio of different white dresses draped over the bodies of mannequins.

“Wanna check it out?” I asked. “You’re gonna need a dress eventually.”

“You don’t need to get back?”

“I got nothing on my schedule today.” I threw an arm around her shoulders, then reached for the door. “Let’s see if we can find you a dress.”

Honestly, I just wanted to do it because she seemed so interested.

It wasn’t long, though, before shit started to feel really real.

The women at the store asked to see the ring. Tessa flashed it with a lot of gusto—even though we didn’t need to put on a show for these strangers. Then the women oohed and ahhed over it while asking all sorts of questions about how we met, when the wedding was going to be, and how I’d proposed.

To my surprise, when the women asked if Tessa had any pictures of the proposal at the rocks, Tessa was quick to whip out her phone and show them.

I zoned out a bit when they all started talking about body shapes and dress cuts and mermaid this and empire that.

“What do you think?” one of the women asked, turning to me, expecting some sort of input that I didn’t have.

“Have you seen her? She’s gorgeous. She’d make a potato sack look classy.”

I meant every word, but the women freaked the fuck out like I’d spouted some poetry or something.

But, hey, I wasn’t complaining. Especially after a champagne flute was handed to me and I was pressed into a chair outside the changing rooms.

Tessa was ushered into a changing room a few minutes later. Along with what looked like half the store.

“You don’t buy into the whole ‘It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before the ceremony’ thing?” one of the saleswomen asked.

“Nah. Nothing could ruin what we have.”

I meant because it was a contract. But the women all fawned over that.

A minute or so later, the dressing room door yawned open, and there she was. So swallowed up by material that you could barely tell she had a frame under all the white.

“You’re not suffocating in that?” I asked.

“Believe it or not, this is the kind of dress I used to dream about as a little girl. It made me think of princesses. I never factored in that my adult body might not work with it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your adult body. But that dress is hideous.”

Tessa turned to walk into the trifold mirror alcove, seeing herself from all angles.

“God, you’re right. Well, the little girl in me is just going to have to settle for something less… overwhelming.”

After the princess dress, the mermaid one was met with dubious looks from the saleswomen, who thought that it perhaps drew too much attention to her hips and bottom.

“Not seeing a problem there,” I said, really enjoying how the material clung to those particular assets.

But no one was listening to me.

At some point, another customer came in and the women all rushed to her, leaving me alone outside the dressing room where Tessa was making some… interesting sounds.

“Everything alright in there?” I asked, leaning forward.

“Ugh, no,” Tessa grumbled, making me climb out of the chair and step closer.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m stuck.”

“You’re… stuck?” I repeated, trying not to snort. “In a dress?”

“It’s not funny. These things are expensive. This designer must have much smaller sizing. And I just pulled it up and now I’m stuck. I’m going to tear the seams.”

“The money doesn’t matter,” I said. “But let me in. I’ll see what I can do.”

“You can’t come in here.”

“This is a bridal shop. I’m sure men have helped with a zipper for their fiancées before.”

“Fine,” she said, cracking the door.

I looked around, but the new shopper and all the saleswomen had disappeared somewhere.

The dressing room was surprisingly spacious—likely to make room for the yards and yards of fabric hanging in the form of dresses on a rack.

As if the trifold mirror outside of the rooms wasn’t enough, the dressing room itself featured nearly floor-to-ceiling mirrors on three of the walls.

“I know,” Tessa said, grimacing at her reflection. “Just what every woman needs—to be able to see her ass while curling her lip at her belly and thighs.”

“You’ve got nothing to grumble about,” I told her as my gaze lowered to the dress she had somehow sardined herself into. “How did this happen?”

“The material was kind of stretchy. At first. And then… not so much. God, I feel like I can’t breathe,” she said, pressing a hand to her belly where the dress seemed to have some sort of boning or corset that was pressing down on her stomach and ribs.

“Alright, let’s see what I can do here,” I said, grabbing the material.

And, yep, it was stuck alright.

“Told you,” she grumbled, breath coming fast and shallow as she really started to panic.

“How about this… Put your hands up high then suck in and hold your breath for a second.”

“Okay,” she agreed, throwing her arms up. The material immediately had a little more give. And when she sucked in her breath, I had just enough room to start to pull the material down.

Unfortunately, it brought her panties down with it. And it seemed she’d already discarded her bra.

So as the dress finally fell down around her feet, she was completely fucking naked.

Right in front of the mirror.

And for a moment, her arms were still up in the air.

I knew I was supposed to look away. But, fuck, I couldn’t help but take her in.

I knew she was beautiful.

But knowing and seeing were two different things.

Everything from her full breasts to the gentle slope of her waist and curve of her hip to her shapely legs.

A little rumbling sound escaped me as her nipples hardened while I watched.

Tessa’s gaze watched me in the mirror as mine tracked up and down her body, not sure what part of her I wanted to look at more.

As her arms fell, I couldn’t seem to force my hands to stay balled up at my sides.

They landed on her hips, then slowly moved up her warm skin. Over her pelvis, up her stomach. Then, finally, closing over her breasts.

A shudder racked her body as she leaned back into me.

She took a deep breath, pressing her breasts more fully against my hands. And, well, I couldn’t help but let my thumbs circle around her hardened nipples.

A sweet little mewling sound escaped her that had my cock getting even harder, pressing against the fly of my jeans.

There was nothing that could have stopped me then.

Except the sounds of women drawing closer.

“Fuck,” I grumbled as Tessa jerked away from me, stooping to yank her panties back up, then clutching the material of her gown to her as I moved to the door.

She wouldn’t look back at me before I started to open the door.

A perfect moment, ruined.

And I had a feeling Tessa would do everything in her power to avoid me for the foreseeable future.

I was just stepping out when the shopkeepers came into the dressing area.

“Don’t worry,” I said, giving them a breezy smile. “Nothing untoward going on here. She got stuck in a dress.”

“The Moira, right?” one of the women asked, shaking her head. “I should have grabbed the size up. They always run so small.”

“We managed to get her out without damaging the dress. But I don’t think she’s gonna want to try again with another size.”

“No, I don’t,” Tessa called.

I moved to sit back in the plush white chairs, crossing my ankle over my thigh to ease the tension against my still-hard cock.

Tessa took a while before she came out with the next dress. And by then, I mostly had control over myself again.

It was right then that the door opened.

And she walked out in the dress.

I could tell by the look on her face—a mix of hope and excitement—that she’d fallen in love with the unconventional dress.

I’d gotten a crash course on gowns and dress details since walking into this store.

So that was how I knew it was a sheer ivory chiffon A-line dress with a low back and medium-length train.

And, sure, it perfectly hugged her chest and midsection before flowing a bit more down to her feet.

But it was the embroidery that made it unique.

The whole thing was embroidered with a shimmery golden celestial pattern.

“Wow.”

“It’s perfect, right?” she asked, eyes bright, as she walked to the mirrored alcove to check herself out from all angles.

Getting up, I moved behind her.

“Perfect,” I agreed, teasing a finger around the deep V in the back.

“It’s not too gown-y, since we’re not doing the whole big wedding thing. But it is still clearly a wedding dress.”

“It really suits you.”

“It’s kind of in the mid-range, price-wise. A lot cheaper than that thing I got stuck in, but more than—”

“The money doesn’t matter,” I told her.

“Well, I mean, it does. I have some savings, but I will need to see if they do payment plans, so—”

“You’re not paying for the dress,” I cut her off. “I’m buying it. Today. Though, we might have to pick it up some other time, since we’re on the bike.”

“I can’t ask—”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. Let me buy the dress.”

Her gaze lifted to mine in the mirror, searching. I knew what she was looking for. Some ulterior motives, some catch that she had to look out for.

“No strings. Just a pretty dress to wear on our wedding day.”

She watched me for a moment more, then nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

“I’ll go get that set up while you change. Wanna grab some food before we head back?”

Was it maybe a bit manipulative to ask her to go somewhere when she was feeling grateful for the dress? Sure. But we had to eat, right?

“Please tell me this town has decent pizza.” It was a constant disappointment to her that Shady Valley had such limited selections for takeout.

“They do.”

“I think I might cry,” she said, grabbing her skirts, and rushing back to the dressing room.

I got things settled for payment and delivery and was waiting for her at the door by the time she came back out in her jeans, tee, and flip-flops.

Ten minutes later, we were sitting in a booth at a pizza joint, and Tessa kept looking over whenever a server passed, hoping for our pizza.

“Let me guess, you were one of the kids reading a bunch of books to get a free personal pan pizza.”

“I did, actually. Once.”

“Why only once?”

“Because no one would bring me to the pizza place to redeem my certificate.” She paused, then added, “I’m still kind of disappointed that I never got the pin.”

Well, that gave me an idea, didn’t it?

“Did you ever do it?” she asked.

“Nah. I probably could have walked down the street at one of our apartments to redeem mine, but I was usually too busy trying to take care of my mom.”

“Have you had any news about her?”

“Not for a while, no. I’m hoping that no news is good news. It seems like I mostly get called when she’s in a manic episode. I’m praying the new meds will finally start to make a difference.”

“How long has it been since she—oh, God, that looks good,” she said as the server brought over our pie on a metal stand. “Oh, it smells even better. Thank you,” she said, shooting the server a smile as she was handed the paper plates. “This is not going to be pretty,” she said as she slid a slice onto her plate.

“Am I going to be able to get a slice or two?”

“Two might be pushing it,” she said with a smile before taking her first bite, having to open and close her mouth like a fish when the too-hot cheese burned her mouth. “Oh, so… how long has it been since your mom was, like… I don’t know the right word here. Since she was… like herself?”

“The last time I personally knew her as balanced was about three weeks before I got arrested. I honestly don’t know a lot of details about her ups since she’s been put away. That’s actually one of the things I’d like you to find out.”

“I can do that. Who would I ask? The doctors?”

“You’re not likely to see the doctors much. But the nurses will have all the information.”

“So I would just ask when was the last time she was ‘balanced’?”

“Yeah.”

“Would I know if she was balanced?”

“Yes. My mom’s bipolar is… it’s really severe. So when she’s in an episode, you will know it. Whether it is manic or depressive. When the latter, she’s practically catatonic. Doesn’t get out of bed even to shower. She might stare blankly at the wall or just sleep.

“As with the former, her mania used to present itself in a more mild way. I’d wake up to find she’d painted the whole house while I’d slept. She’d go out to bars and party with strangers. She’d make these grand plans for vacations I knew we’d never take. She talked fast and was very positive.”

“But now?”

“Now, she seems to slip right into delusions or hallucinations. I only saw that briefly right before I got locked up. But from the sound of things, it has happened on and off a lot since.”

“Is it always so hard to control?”

“No. This is very rare. Most people who have bipolar can be managed with medications. And I still believe she can be. But medications are all trial-and-error. It can take weeks or months to know if a medication is working. And it’s not usually just one medication they’re on. It could be mood stabilizers, antipsychotics, antidepressants, or benzodiazepines.”

“So if they fiddle with one, it could mess with the others. And you might have to fiddle with the others to figure out which one.”

“That’s exactly it. There are seventy-plus meds used to treat bipolar. I believe they will find the right combination eventually.”

“And you can have your mom back.”

“And she can have herself back.”

“That’s a really sweet way of looking at it.”

“I can’t imagine what she’s going through. I know that when she’s in a really bad episode, she usually has a lot of memory gaps. I’m kind of hoping she doesn’t remember how bad it’s been while she’s been in treatment.”

“I don’t know if that would be a blessing or a curse. Not remembering,” she clarified as she slid another slice onto her plate.

“That’s a hard one. Since, I guess, the hard shit does have a part in making us who we are.”

“For better or worse,” Tessa agreed. “This was well worth having to go do a drug test,” she said, finishing up her second slice. “Though, I better be careful or I won’t fit into that dress in… how long exactly do you think it’ll be before the wedding?”

“Now that Nancy knows, I guess we just need to get a license. Then figure out the courthouse thing. And also a location for pictures. A couple of weeks?”

“The sooner, the better, right?”

“Yeah. But it has to be believable too.”

“We could just claim we got swept up. After the drug test, we just happened upon the dress, and then once we had the dress, we saw no reason to drag it out.”

“She already thinks we are being foolish and moving too fast. So she probably wouldn’t think it’s too crazy.”

“And once we’re married, I can finally make good on my side of this bargain.”

Something about the way she said that had me sitting there with one question rolling around in my mind.

What, exactly, was she getting out of this?

Something told me it had very little to do with the house and the money.

She was keeping her true motivation from me.

And I couldn’t help but wonder if I would ever figure it out.