The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield (17 page)

"I believe you," I told Mattie with a smile before clapping him on the shoulder. "You better go, champ. Write those lyrics you've been working on. I'd like to hear them on my next visit."

He nodded and started to go but instead of heading toward the house, he strode up to his brother who was more than twice his size.

I couldn't hear what he was saying to Brandon. He was barely murmuring that his older brother had to crouch down to listen to him.

I had a feeling they were talking about me and I really felt pressed to take off and escape Brandon but I couldn't leave Mattie without making sure he made it to the house unscathed by his older brother's sour mood.

Finally, Brandon murmured something back to Mattie and ruffled the boy's hair. He glanced at me before clapping his brother's shoulder and motioning him to the house.

I should really run now but I stayed rooted in my spot, waiting as he slowly walked toward me.

"Charlotte." His voice was decidedly gentler and lower now.

I raised a brow. "What? You're not screaming at me anymore? 'Coz I haven't completely lost my hearing yet, if that was your goal."

His jaw clenched. "I had to promise my brother I wouldn't or he wouldn't have left us alone. Are you this talented at winning all the boys over? First my Dad, then my brother, then Jake."

The resentment in his voice wasn't lost on me especially with the added emphasis on his best friend's name. My anger sparked anew.

"You begrudge me the kind treatment that men like your father or your brother or your best friend give me?" I demanded. "Where do you come off staining something completely innocent and making me out as some kind of attention slut or worse, when you're probably fresh out Simone Clark's satin-covered bed?"

That shouldn't have come out. I really didn't intend for it to do so but it was like a giant elephant let out of its cage, about to trample us to death now.

His hazel eyes glinted for a second as he stiffened, his nostrils flaring.

"So this is about her."

I scoffed and threw my hands in the air. "No, not at all, actually. It's about me and my completely idiotic tendency to hope that you were gentleman enough not to insult me like you did last night. I get it that people will make me a pariah for thinking myself capable of becoming Mrs. Brandon Maxfield but I just didn't think it would come from you. At least not after... not after you've been nice to me in the past week and a half."

His expression became darker and he opened his mouth to say something but I held my hand up, too carried away now to stop. It felt like a flash-flood of emotions and it needed out before I seriously damaged anything.

"It's not really your fault," I rambled on. "I just have this annoying habit to warm up to people after they've been good to me. I shouldn't have done that with you considering the cold, callous nature of our arrangement. Besides, you probably really hate me for getting you into this mess even though I had no idea what your Dad had done at first. You could've been happy with Simone, living your perfect lives, yet here you are stuck trying to reform me so I could be acceptable enough as your wife. I totally understand now why you were so furious about it the first time you told me Martin's crazy idea. It wasn't just his ultimatum. It was giving what you could've had with the woman you love to a random girl your father picked out. Totally get it."

"While I'm impressed at the amount of imagination you've put into spinning this movie-worthy, doomed love affair I have with Simone, I'll ask you to stay out of it," he bit out, his tone hard and cold. "Regardless of our intimate relationship, she's a good friend of mine and it was only polite that I invited her to last night's party. I just didn't think she'd show up considering how badly she took the news of our engagement. I thought I would do my best to repair our friendship at the very least last night by not completely abandoning her to the gossiping crowd who were mocking her for having been dumped for a diner girl."

Ouch. Really. You couldn't have cut any deeper than that.

I forced a smile on my face, my lips quivering with the effort. "Well, I hope she's feeling better. I can totally sympathize, you know, having been mocked myself last night for having my fiance flaunt his lover right in my face during our engagement party. "

That's when his face lost color. A strange look flickered in his eyes before he groaned and closed them briefly. He finally understood.

He took a step forward, reaching for me. "Charlotte. I didn't mean it like that..."

I snorted, moving away from him. "Of course, you didn't. You were too busy patching up with your lover to notice anyone else's pain. That's alright, Brand. Despite my waterworks earlier, I'm actually pretty tough about it. I've had years of practice of being taken for granted, having the band-aid ripped away over and over again from the same goddamned bleeding wound each time."

Brandon's expression now looked thunderous. "I am not your goddamned father!"

"Of course, not!" I retorted in disgust. "See, I had no better expectations of my father. I knew what he was and accepted it. You, on the other hand, are a complete contradiction sometimes that I forget exactly what it is that you want from me. But don't worry, I learn hard lessons fairly quickly and trust me, you wouldn't have to deal with my hurt feelings like this ever again because I'll turn them off for you! I'll be your perfect robot of a wife and see to my duties until I'm relieved of them in a year."

And with that, I turned on my heel and stomped my way to the front gate of the house.

I haven't gone far when a hand gripped my arm and yanked me around, slamming me against Brandon's solid wall of a chest.

Startled, I blinked and opened my mouth to protest but the afternoon sunshine was suddenly eclipsed from my view when Brandon's head came down, his lips catching mine in an almost bruising kiss.

For a girl who'd gone from having zero kisses to a few here and there in the last week or so, I had a pretty good assortment of Brandon's types of kisses—the hot, steamy kind, the sweet, tender ones, the playful, teasing nips. None of them applied to the kind of crushing, desperate possession he was doing to my mouth.

My toes literally curled as they lifted off the ground when Brandon hoisted me up against him, not once freeing me from the kiss he was using so determinedly to assault my every conscious thought.

Heat was shooting through my limbs that came to life on their own, clutching my body to Brandon as I gave myself up to his kiss.

Then to my utter despair, he roughly tore his mouth away from mine, only an inch or two that I could totally go for it again, but he started to say something through ragged breaths. 

"I'm not sleeping with Simone," he said.

The name registered like a cold slap on my face and the lusty haze cleared from my brain. 

"What?" My voice came out a pathetic, breathless whisper.

"I'm not sleeping with Simone," he repeated, settling me back down on my feet but not releasing me from his hold. "I haven't. Not since... Not since brunch, with my family."

"Oh."

Clearly, he had been sleeping with her before that brunch. His statement made that distinction.

"Why not?" I asked dumbly.

He gave me an are-you-serious look. "Because it didn't feel right then when I just declared to the world that I was marrying you. I'm not that callous, you know, despite appearances."

My eyes narrowed. "But you had every intention to carry on with her after we were married."

Brandon's jaw tightened. "I haven't really thought that far ahead to be perfectly honest. I didn't want to take away that option when we made the contract but I didn't make a conscious attempt to fulfill that task right away."

That confession didn't really make me feel that much better. 

"Why? Were you too busy sampling your future wife?" I retorted nastily. "After all, you're paying me a million dollars. You might as well get your money's worth."

You're goading him at the expense of your own self-worth. Great job, Charlotte. Way to go.

His arms instantly tightened around me and I felt the unmistakable press of his interest against my stomach. There was heat in his eyes as he watched me swallow hard at the realization that he was indeed attracted to me in that way.

"While I would love to pick up that gauntlet you threw down and have my way with you over and over again, Charlotte, I'm not going to do it with you holding that money over our heads and making yourself feel like a whore," he said, releasing me abruptly and turning away.

I bit my lip and chewed on the inside of my cheek. "Why not? I'm already one. Your father said he wanted for you a woman who would genuinely care for you—whose affection couldn't be bought. He's clearly wrong about me in that regard."

He glanced at me. "I suspect my father knows exactly what he's doing, Charlotte. His reasons aren't for you to worry about. You're giving up a year of your life to fulfill this ridiculous ultimatum he gave me and compensating you for it is the least I can do."

"Whatever makes you sleep at night, Brand," I said with a humorless laugh. "If he wanted me to help you or something, he could've just asked. I would've done it for him. There was no need for such a covert operation."

He raised a brow wryly. "Right. Like if he asked you to take up with me and marry me, you would. We both know you hated my guts since the moment you met me."

I haven't always. There was a time, years ago, when I fell in love with this amazing guy Martin kept telling me about. I fancied myself Cinderella and he my prince. Then I grew up and reality struck.

"If you'd been nice and asked me to dinner, I might have said yes," I grumbled sullenly, rolling my eyes. "You could've asked me to get cheeseburgers and fries and I wouldn't have put up an argument."

At the mention of cheeseburgers and fries, Brandon's face twisted into a scowl and I mentally slapped myself.

The last thing this ridiculous conversation needed was rehashing last night's confrontation with Jake about the damned cheeseburgers and fries.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked testily. "Because I distinctly remember you slamming the door on my face last night when I brought you cheeseburgers and fries."

My lips tightened into a thin line. "Yes, well, I'd already eaten. There was nothing special about ordering drive-thru food. I needed it and Jake was there to accompany me. End of story."

His face flushed with anger. "Don't lie, Charlotte. You know it meant something so don't claim otherwise. It was our thing and you went and did it with Jake."

My mouth dropped open in incredulity. "Our thing? Marriage is our thing but you're given special privilege to go off and do your marital duties with someone else. All I did was get fast food with a guy. Sheesh. Get off your high horse."

My momentum faltered when Brandon didn't say anything for what felt like eternity. He just kept looking at me, deep in thought, his eyes inscrutable. 

I started to fidget. 

"Is that what you want?" he finally said. "Do you want us to exercise our marital duties? To make our marriage real and exclusive for the duration of it? 'Coz I can do that. I want to do that."

There must've been a mini-earthquake that happened in that space of a few seconds when Brandon's words sank in because I nearly lost balance and toppled over.

I blinked, backing away a step when he started walking toward me. "Wait, what? You said you're not interested in that."

A corner of his mouth curled up. "You know that's not true, regardless of what I said in the beginning. Besides, can't a guy change his mind? I want you to be a real wife to me in the year we're married."

My mouth was still hanging open. I couldn't form words.

"Besides, it will solve this problem we have," he said softly, coming up to touch my cheek with the back of his hand. I couldn't turn away to save my life. "You won't ever be put in a position where my fidelity to you is questioned and I get to hold you and make love to you every night that I'll never have to look anywhere else."

My temper flared back in full force and I took another step back from him. Something in my expression must've stopped him because he went no further.

"Right. Because why go through all the trouble of availing yourself of other women when your wife is conveniently available for you to use? You're quite a practical man, Brandon Maxfield. And quite romantic. You just know how to make a girl feel special."

"Charlotte, calm down," he said with an exasperated sigh which only angered me more. 

What? Did he think me a child because I have the self-respect not to allow myself to be made into a convenient reliever of his lust? 

"I'm perfectly calm, Brandon," I hissed just as my hands balled into fists. "In fact, I'm so perfectly calm and logical that I can say this—I will be your bride in name only and that's it. You will no longer touch me or kiss me or be affectionate to me unless it's absolutely necessary for show. That way, I don't get all these mixed signals and you don't get too interested in getting into my pants. The more distance we put between each other, the clearer the lines remain."

I could see a muscle ticking on Brandon's temple which indicated his frustration.