Bury the Hatchet (9 page)

“SHOULDN’T WE BE
getting back soon?” I asked. I hated bringing it up, because I was really enjoying spending some time with Hunter without having to put on a show for anyone else. It was just the two of us getting to know each other, which was something we definitely needed to do if we were going to spend the next year together as husband and wife, whether it was a
real
marriage or not.

We’d already been here for hours, though, and Hunter still needed to have his final fitting before his parents arrived. Not only that, but I was sure there were a thousand things that Lance expected of me in that time span. He was probably blowing up my phone even now, asking where I was and demanding I come home immediately so he could put me through something else in preparation for tomorrow. I didn’t know that for sure, though, because I’d intentionally left my phone in Hunter’s car so I wouldn’t have to deal with it. I needed a break from it all, and Hunter was giving me one.

After leaving my parents’ house, the two of us had gone to the bank so he could officially close on the house, and after we left there, we’d picked up some takeout food—fried chicken and a bunch of other stuff that Lance would have an absolute conniption fit if he knew about—and we’d gone to the new place to eat. Hunter had brought in a couple of grocery bags full of pantry items, too, so that the cabinets wouldn’t be entirely bare.

Right now, we were lying on the empty hardwood floors of the living room while the afternoon sun shone down on us through the massive picture windows along the back wall of the house.

It was a brand new house in the Southern Hills district, right across the street from the country club and golf course. Mama had always wanted to live in this part of town, but that was one thing Daddy had put his foot down over. He didn’t want the commute. Hunter’s new house was almost as far away from Mama and Daddy’s downtown river-view home as he could get without leaving the Tulsa city limits. It was the complete opposite of theirs in every way, with light colors on the walls, open spaces, and tons of natural light.

Even though it was in Southern Hills, Mama would hate it. She loved traditional Southern design, with bold colors, rich woods, lots of crown molding, elaborate chandeliers in every room, and so many gold accents they would blind you if you weren’t careful. Even the furniture looked like it had come out of another century.

I loved Hunter’s house, though, which was further proof of how different I was, not only from Mama but from what she wanted me to be. I hadn’t encouraged him one way or the other when we’d been house hunting, telling him I’d be fine with whatever he thought was best and encouraging him to choose the house that he wanted without worrying about my thoughts on the matter, but there was a part of me that would be glad to have some distance. Maybe even a big part of me. Mama and Lance could be smothering at the best of times, and having them across town could only help me figure out what I wanted to do with my life after this year ended. Whether they liked it or not, I’d decided that was going to be my focus for the time I spent as Hunter’s wife. I was going to use it to make my own decisions about where I wanted to go from here.

Hunter rolled to his side, facing me, and propped his head up on one hand. He shrugged. “I’m sure Lance thinks we should have been back hours ago, but I honestly don’t give a rat’s ass what he wants.”

I couldn’t hide the smile that curved up my lips. There had never been anyone in my life who’d put his foot down where Lance was concerned. Not even Daddy. My father had done his best to allow me to lead a normal life, but Mama and Lance had never listened to him as far as anything to do with pageants was concerned. Not at all. And to hear them talk about it, every single aspect of my life was related to pageants. Lance had been overseeing everything since before I could remember, from extracurricular activities to my diet, to how many hours I spent in the gym, to what colors I should wear and when, and even to who would be in charge of my hair and makeup. If he knew I’d just eaten fried chicken…

But he didn’t have to know. And if Hunter was serious about keeping our faux marriage a Lance-free zone, then maybe I could start to live a somewhat normal life, whatever that might be. “I know,” I said. “I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with him at all.” I put a hand behind my head to act as a pillow. “What was he saying I would agree to do when I walked in earlier?” The question had been niggling at the back of my mind ever since we’d left my parents’ house, but I’d been trying to avoid the Lance issue. Since Hunter had already brought him up again, though, I decided to run with it.

“He seems to think that you’ll happily agree to starring on a reality show. That you’re fine with having every aspect of our lives broadcast to anyone who cares to watch.”

“Oh.” Something along those lines would be exactly what Lance would want.
The best defense is a good offense, and the best way to go on the offensive is to put yourself out there in every way you can.
I couldn’t remember how many times he’d told me something along those lines, pounding it into my brain. The more exposure, the better.

The only time he hadn’t agreed with that particular tactic was when TMZ had caught me naked in a hot tub with Leo Brunetti’s hands all over me when I was in Cancun last month. The Brunetti family was famous more for being rich than for anything they’d done. Well, other than playing fast and loose. And honestly, Lance would have been all over that if not for the fact that it had cost me my chance at ever winning Miss USA. Now, I supposed he was changing his focus, although I wasn’t sure what his new tack would be. What was he pushing me toward? Who was he trying to make me become?

“Was he right?” Hunter asked. “Would you agree to it?”

“I…” That was a loaded question, and I wasn’t sure how to go about explaining just how loaded it was.

“You’re awfully hesitant.”

“It’s just that what I would agree to and what I want aren’t necessarily the same thing.”

Hunter sat up, drawing his knees toward his chest and resting his arms around them. “You’d do it even though you don’t want to? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“I don’t know that I’d have much choice.”

“Why the fuck wouldn’t you have a choice? You’re an adult. You can make your own decisions. He can’t control every aspect of your life for you unless you let him.”

But I’d been letting him control everything for my entire life, because that was what I’d always known, and changing things wasn’t as easy as snapping my fingers or wrinkling my nose. There were no magic wands in real life. I didn’t know how to break free of Lance’s control over even the simplest aspects of my life, how to put my foot down and demand what I wanted.

“I don’t know how to start,” I said, hating how pathetic that made me seem. This wasn’t what Daddy wanted for me. When it got right down to it, I didn’t think this was what Mama would have wanted, either. I wasn’t positive I understood everything involved in why she was so intent upon sending me to pageant after pageant, but I knew it wasn’t because she wanted to suffocate me.

But Hunter was right. I was an adult. I didn’t have to go along with everything I was told to do, but hell if I knew how to set healthy boundaries and learn to live my life the way I wanted it to be.

He smiled, and I had to wonder how he could be smiling at a time like this. But then he held out a hand to assist me up. I stumbled slightly and fell toward him. He steadied me by putting his other hand on my waist and drawing me in toward him. Too close. Just like every time we kissed for the cameras, awareness danced through my veins like fireflies flitting around after dark. My lips were suddenly dry, and I licked them. Hunter’s gaze followed my tongue, and I swallowed hard, trying to force my body to stop reacting to his presence.

“Well,” he said, easing me away from him and acting as though he hadn’t noticed the crazy heat between us, “you could start by telling Lance that as soon as the wedding is over, he doesn’t get to make decisions for you anymore.”

“I don’t think he’ll like that.”

“Does it matter?”

Hunter headed toward the kitchen after asking me that, so I assumed it was a rhetorical question. Did it matter to me what Lance thought? Was it important for Mama to approve of every decision I made? Those were the sorts of questions bouncing around in my head as I trudged along behind him. He had a jar of Nutella open on the counter, and he held out a plastic spoon for me. There wasn’t anything in sight to put it on.

I took the spoon, and he dunked another one in for a bite.

“Straight out of the jar?” I asked.

He popped the spoon in his mouth and raised a brow. “Something else Lance might not like?” he asked after a moment, when I still hadn’t followed suit.

It wasn’t just that. We were getting married tomorrow, and I had to be able to wear that dress in front of the lights and cameras. Thousands of people would see me in it at home, and that thing fit me like a glove. I couldn’t afford to gain so much as a pound or it would show, and Lance always said that anything with sugar or fat in it would go straight to my hips and make everything look awful. That was why he was constantly putting me on those crazy fad diets, keeping me from…

Keeping me from living life like a normal person. That was the crux of it. That was the heart of the matter, when I got right down to it.

I dug my spoon into the spread and came up with it heaping. Then I put it in my mouth. It tasted like heaven, only too sinful to possibly be heaven. It was perfect. I closed my eyes, savoring every bit of it as it melted over my tongue. I might have even let out a humming sound of pure joy.

“Good?” Hunter asked.

When I looked up at him, it was to find his silver-green eyes smiling back at me even though his lips weren’t. I took the spoon out and licked my lips. “Better than good.”

“You’ve got—” He reached out a hand toward my lips, but instead of brushing away the drop of Nutella with his finger, he dipped down his head and licked.

My breath caught in my throat as he backed away.

His eyes weren’t smiling anymore. They were dark and intense, sharp enough to pierce my lungs. “I guess we should be getting back, then.”

OTHER THAN JOHN
and Darren having to physically restrain me from throat-punching Lance because the asshole was so intent on making sure Tallie’s hair and makeup were perfect that the whole damned thing started late—the wedding wasn’t until the next day, for fuck’s sake, so who cared what she looked like right now?—the rehearsal dinner went off without a hitch.

Mom had informed me when she and Dad arrived that Carrie would be coming for the wedding but that she wouldn’t catch a flight until the next morning. In other words, I’d see her at the wedding but not before. No time to figure out where she stood on things beyond the brief phone call we’d had earlier in the week. It was probably for the best, all things considered, but it definitely left me on edge.

But now, the rehearsal was over, dinner was finished, and everyone was starting to trickle off to their homes or hotels for the evening. Instead of having a bachelor party, I was going to spend my time with John, Darren, and my parents. It would be a good opportunity for Tallie to do the same, particularly since we were going on a honeymoon of sorts in Hawaii almost as soon as the wedding was over. It might be the only chance she would have to spend any quality time with my family since they’d be heading back to Prince George after the ceremony was over, and they might not be able to come down for a visit during the season.

I supposed Tallie didn’t really need to get to know them, especially since this was all a farce and it’d be over almost before it began, but there was still a part of me that wanted her to spend some time in their company. Maybe I just wanted her to see what a real family ought to be like, to give her more incentive to get out from the clutches that her mother and Lance had over her once it was all said and done. My family wasn’t perfect—one look at Kade and all the shit he’d been into since his late teens was more than enough for anyone to realize that—but if you ignored him, like I tended to do, we were no different from the average Canadian family. Well, apart from the fact that I was in the NHL, at least. There might be a lot of Canadians in the league, but that didn’t mean that most Canadian families could claim that.