Blissed (Misfit Brides #1) (34 page)

Even Marilyn didn’t correct that.

“Go on,” Kimmie said. “Go find a wife.”

The girl helping her nodded. “Kimmie’s in good hands.”

“They’re all well-trained,” Marilyn said. “Kimberly, call us from the hospital.”

When Arthur stepped aside so Kimmie and Ellie could pass, CJ did too. Arthur was a smart man. If he trusted Kimmie’s judgment, CJ would do the same.

Wasn’t sure what it all meant about the Games for him.

But his heart had an idea. And his world was shifting back toward the right axis.

Marilyn dusted her hands of imaginary flour. Despite the carnage throughout her bakery kitchen, she was still spotless. “Now then. Let’s find you a wife.” She peered around the room, at all of her assistants mixing and frosting and washing and doing God only knew what. Marilyn’s frown grew almost as dark as Jeremy’s had been at Suckers every day this week. “Unfortunately,” she said, “I am unable to spare any more of my assistants.”

He didn’t want one of her assistants. He wanted—

“Natalie’s available,” Arthur said.

Natalie.

He wanted Natalie.

He cut a glance at the QG. She looked at Arthur. Cleared her throat. Lifted her chin.

Arthur tilted a brow at her.

“If that is his wish,” Marilyn said.

Huh. CJ would’ve thought she’d morph into a human praying mantis and eat Arthur whole for that suggestion.

Arthur gave Marilyn an approving nod.

And CJ realized he was a moron.

He didn’t need some Queen General’s stamp of approval on his choice of stand-in brides. He could’ve taken Basil out there with him if he damn well wanted to.

But CJ wanted Natalie.

He walked out of Heaven’s Bakery. Turned left. Strolled one shop down. Banged on the door.

When it didn’t open fast enough, he let himself in. Natalie was talking to someone—he could hear her.

And he could smell her, that lingering bit of oranges and baby shampoo hanging in the air, as if she’d just walked out of the kitchenette and back to the office.

He followed the music of her voice. She sat ramrod straight on her metal folding chair, phone to her ear, frown on her lips, but—unlike the last time he’d seen her—eyes clear, bright, and well-rested.

His heart stirred again.

She was beautiful. Strong, determined, and unstoppable.

Just how he liked ’em.

She stopped mid-sentence, leaving something about a shipment of dresses dangling in the air, and stared at him as though he were a mirage.

“Kimmie’s on the DL,” he said.

She blinked, her brows furrowing briefly before she cleared her face of all emotion. “I’ll call you back,” she said into the phone. She disconnected, then gave him a once-over. “DL?”

“Disabled List. She’s on her way to the hospital for stitches. You’re up. Say no, and I’ll hog-tie you, toss you in your father’s car, and drag you to the Games anyway. So, are you going to be my partner the nice way, or are you going to be a pain in the ass about it?”

“That’s a dime,” she said.

“Nickel.”

“Quarter, if you keep arguing.”

Damn
, he’d missed her. “Easy way or hard way, Nat. I’ll give you to the count of three to decide.”

“Fine way to start a fake marriage.” Her pulse fluttered in her neck as fast as his blood flew through his veins.

“One…”

She leaned back in the chair and gave him a
do it
look.

“Two…”

Her head shifted. Left. Then right. Just enough to broadcast that she didn’t believe him.

“Three.”

He stepped forward.

“Are you still playing for Serena?” she said.

He was playing for himself. For Serena’s memory, for his freedom, for his future. “That depends,” he said. “Are you?”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond. Instead, he scooped her up, tossed her over his shoulder, called toward the shop floor that Natalie was leaving for the day, then carried her out the door.

He couldn’t think of a better way to start his last few days in Bliss.

T
HE SUNFLOWERS were perfect.

Natalie couldn’t say whether anything else was perfect about today, but the sunflowers were. And here, in the middle of the sunflower maze, with nothing but the blue sky and pretty yellow flowers standing tall around her while she waited for CJ to find her and take her back to the stadium for the opening ceremonies of the Golden Husband Games, she had her first chance to breathe since he’d banged on the back door of Bliss Bridal.

First he’d tossed her in the back of Dad’s Jeep, then climbed in beside her. Then he and Dad had talked baseball and other random baloney the whole drive.

At the stadium, CJ had explained to Duke and Elsie why Natalie was subbing for Kimmie. He’d gotten them checked in, then handed Natalie her team T-shirt. The men were whisked away to their bus while the women were shown to theirs. Keys and phones were surrendered—though Natalie held onto hers until Lindsey texted back that she’d keep Noah tonight.

Nat had gotten a couple of weird looks on the bus, but more, she’d gotten smiles. Encouragement.

Welcome.

After that, she’d made a point to talk to everyone.

Everyone.

Including Marilyn.

What more could the Queen General do to her? Dad was closing on the sale of the shop next week, and he insisted that Marilyn had agreed to not interfere. Pepper had offered to let Natalie stay on, which Nat appreciated, but once Knot Fest was over, she had an interview in Willow Glen.

And a few patches to put on the iron case around her heart.

Because CJ’s little Neanderthal act, his staking a claim and dragging her out here, had blown a few bits in the protective covering she’d been welding around her poor little organ.

Someday she’d take the time to process it all.

But not today. Because today, she had to put on a show for the Games.

She blinked up at the blue sky again, and she could almost feel her mother’s smile. Warmth spread in her heart.

Mom would’ve been glad Natalie was here. For Nat’s sake.

And, Natalie was surprised to realize, she was okay with that. CJ had been right. She
had
made the Games about herself. About doing in private what she’d failed to do in public. But now she had her chance to say good-bye.

And hopefully not make a fool of herself this time around.

She’d miss this when she was gone. Knot Fest, the Games, The Aisle. When she left Bliss, she’d leave a part of herself behind.

Gilbert lumbered around the corner to Natalie’s left. He was alone, which meant he was still looking for Vi.

He squinted at Nat in surprise, which she barely noticed for trying not to gawk at his violet T-shirt emblazoned with
I’m the Dove
in huge green letters.

She’d seen Vi in the complementary shirt—
I’m the Rose
—and she still couldn’t help staring. Nor did she have the right to stare, given the shirt she’d been ordered to change into. Damn Neanderthal.

“What’s your clue?” Gilbert said.

Natalie shook herself. “If you’ve found her, go on, if you’re still looking, go back,” she recited for the fifteenth time. All twenty-eight of the wives were positioned inside the maze with clues to help the husbands get through, and hers had to be useless since she was supposed to say it regardless of which direction the men came from. So far they’d all come from Gilbert’s direction, though, so maybe there was logic to it.

The only people who knew for sure were the farmer who’d cut the maze and the dozen cameramen situated on platforms around the field, live-streaming the event to the stadium for a crowd waiting to cheer them on.

Gilbert grunted. He moseyed back the way he’d come, and Natalie went back to pretending she didn’t know her every move was being videotaped.

“Natalie?” an achingly familiar voice said softly from beyond a row of sunflowers.

She stiffened, but she didn’t reply.

It was against the rules to say anything other than her clue until her “husband” found her.

“Hope you’re staying out of the itchweed this time,” he said.

Half of her wanted to deck him. Mr. Hotshot Know-It-All.

But the other half wanted to laugh. She could hear the teasing grin in his voice, and she knew all the way through her soul that he wasn’t trying to hurt her.

But she would still hurt. Tonight, she got to pretend she was his. Tomorrow he’d be Kimmie’s, and Tuesday—

Tuesday, he had a flight out of Bliss.

Pepper hadn’t denied it when someone mentioned it at the boutique the other day. So it had to be true. His sister would’ve known otherwise, and his sister had looked so exasperated with him, he had to be leaving.

CJ didn’t say anything else, and Natalie went back to alternating between watching a few fluffy clouds drift by and admiring the sunflowers. She fingered a leaf on the nearest plant. Her pink nails caught her eye.

When Lindsey and Noah had dropped by the boutique with lunch this afternoon, Lindsey had bullied Nat into taking an hour off to get a manicure and pedicure. To give her an extra boost before the big days, Lindsey had said.

Natalie had assumed she meant the last big days at Bliss Bridal. But could she have known—Nat shook her head. She was getting crazy thoughts, and they didn’t matter. Kimmie would be back tomorrow, and life would go on as it was supposed to.

Still, Nat might take a few hours to look at the video footage of today.

See if the maze was cut to look like the wedding cake Mom had envisioned. Lindsey had an ex-boyfriend at one of the news stations. He’d get them a copy.

CJ stepped into view around the corner to her right. His eyes met hers, the green a perfect match for the sunflower leaves, and an honest, happy smile lit his face. “Hey, temporary wife. Missed you.”

He walked down the path, his jeans rustling, his arms loose. He wore an American flag–inspired T-shirt with
Team CJ and Kimmie—Dream It, Do It
emblazoned across the front. The red and blue striped cotton fabric stretched from one of his shoulder to the other, with a lot of solid chest underneath.

And he had a singular concentration on her, as if he meant what he’d said.

He’d missed her.

She tried to swallow, but her tongue had gone sandy and rusty at the same time.

His smile took on a knowing bent, still hypnotic as ever. He stopped just within arm’s reach. “Miss me too?”

God
, yes. She swallowed hard. She had to keep it together. “My clue is that you’re supposed to keep going once you’ve found me.”

His eyes narrowed. Thoughtfully, as though he were looking for the words she wanted to say instead.

“Keep going in the maze?” he said slowly. “Or keep going somewhere else?”

The man had an evil streak. “The maze,” she said firmly. Helpfully. Like a dutiful daughter of Bliss.

“Because there are a few places I’d like to go with you.”

Her stomach tightened. So did a few areas farther south.

She pointed left. “So we should probably go that way.”

He crossed his arms. Lifted a brow.

There she went, being bossy again. “Unless you’d prefer to lead. I can let you lead.”

“Good,” he said. “Because first, we’re going to do is this.”

He stepped forward. “I—” she croaked, but his hands settled on her waist, and she instinctively copied his movements to hook her fingers through his belt loops, and suddenly he was brushing a soft kiss against the corner of her lips.

She recoiled.

Not because she didn’t want to kiss him.

But because she hadn’t earned this. Being here today. At Mom’s last Husband Games. Kissing a guy she couldn’t keep.

It wasn’t right.

“Smile, beautiful,” he murmured. “Cameras are watching.”

It took a minute for the message to break through the haze of feelings coloring her world. But when it did, it killed every happy thought she’d had about him in the last hour.

“You ass—jerk.” She shoved him away, and considered adding a kick to the shin for good measure.

He laughed.

Laughed
.

Her temper spiked, but he slipped an arm around her and pressed a friendly kiss to her hair. “That’s the Natalie I was looking for. I missed you. What say we get out of this maze? Heard a rumor we might have a few minutes alone on the ride back to the stadium. We could make out.”

There went her mouth doing the not-working-right thing again. All because his mouth went and did the saying-all-the-right-things thing again.

“So, temporary wife, which way’s out?”

She looked at him, then in front of her, then behind, her fury and confusion and doubts colliding. “I don’t know.”

He flashed her another classic CJ grin. “Then let’s go figure it out.” He twisted back to face the path, linked his fingers through hers, and pulled her along.

And she went, because he was holding her hand, and he was treating her to those wonderful, terrible smiles he used so well, and even if he was pushing her buttons, he was
here
.

He dragged her along, cracking jokes and teasing her. Five turns later, they stumbled across Marilyn.

She was squatting, pushing frantically at the straw and dirt.

Natalie and CJ stopped.

Marilyn looked up, then stood. Bits of straw stuck in her hair and to her black pants, dirt was streaked across her white
Going for Gold
T-shirt, and instead of showing off her queenly or General sides, she wore a human expression with something akin to grief dragging at her eyes. “Head north, and you’ll soon be back south,” she said.

She touched her ear, then did a weak impersonation of her normal nod of dismissal.

Her diamond earring was missing.

CJ was squinting at her. He started to turn around—of course he knew which direction north was—but Natalie stopped him. “Did you lose it here?” she asked Marilyn.

Marilyn didn’t speak. But she gave a single nod. Her eyes shone. She blinked twice, and they went back to normal. She dropped back to the ground, searching in the straw.

Natalie looked up at CJ. She could hardly believe what she was about to do, but maybe Dad was right. And she knew her mother would approve.