THREE MONTHS LATER . . .
“Nervous?” Hux asked Savannah.
“No.” The look on her face and the unspoken duh made me choke on a sip of coffee.
“Let’s go take the first day of school picture,” I said, taking the phone from my cardigan’s pocket.
She groaned. “Do I have to?”
“Yes.” I smiled and nodded for the door.
We all shuffled outside to the front porch, and I made Savannah stand by the door with her backpack on.
She stuck out her tongue.
I gave her the finger.
Finally, after some cajoling, she agreed to a nice photo in front of her car, Hux standing beside her.
Whether she liked it or not, this picture was going on the wall. Hux didn’t have any of Savannah on her first day of school. He’d missed kindergarten and all the other grades, but we had senior year and it was going to be a showcase.
“See you at the gallery after school.” Hux kissed her hair, then opened the Mazda’s door.
“Okay. Bye, Dad.” She waved at me. “Bye, Ev.”
“Bye, kid.”
I slid into Hux’s side and we watched her back out of the driveway and zoom down the street. The squeal of her tires made us both cringe. That and the barely-there brake tap at the stop sign.
“One more year,” he said.
“We’ll make it the best.”
“Yeah.” He bent and brushed a kiss to my lips, then wrapped me in his arms, holding me as we stood in the driveway of the home that would likely belong to someone else within the year.
“We’d better get going if we’re going to meet Kase.”
Hux nodded and let me go. Then we hurried inside to refill coffee mugs and hit the road, driving to the property out of town before we had to open the gallery at ten.
Kase was a friend of Hux’s who owned a construction company in town. He’d remodeled the gallery after Hux had bought the building, and Kase also did a lot of work for Kerrigan on her properties, including the gym.
We’d hired him a few months ago to build our dream home on the property. Normally, Kase was six to eight months out, but the custom home project he’d had slated for this fall had been delayed, allowing him to squeeze us in.
Our days and nights over the past months had been spent daydreaming about floor plans and bay windows and roof peaks. The architect had finalized blueprints yesterday and we were meeting with her and Kase at the property for a final review before they broke ground.
My legs bounced as Hux drove, excitement buzzing through my veins.
It would take about four months for the house to be complete, barring any disaster. With any luck, we’d be pregnant by the time we moved in.
So far, my period had come like clockwork, but we were sure having fun trying. At home. At the gallery. In this truck. I hoped the passion Hux and I had for each other never faded.
“Do you think we should have made Savannah’s room bigger?” Hux asked.
“It’s three times the size of her room now.”
He hummed, a crease forming between his eyebrows.
“She’ll love it, honey.”
“Hope so.”
Savannah didn’t care where we lived. She didn’t need a large room or fancy things. She was simply happy to have this year with her father.
It had taken nearly six weeks for the family court process to run its course, but after Savannah’s statement about Julian’s violence and her heartfelt plea to spend this year with her father, Nelson had agreed that Savannah could live with us full-time.
She was old enough to make those decisions. In other states, she would have been able to decide for herself.
April hadn’t taken the news well. She’d been angry and had done her best to spread rumors around town about Hux. But surprisingly the people of Calamity were mostly deaf to April’s bullshit. Whether it was because Hux hadn’t given them enough credit for their willingness to look beyond his past, or because my marriage to him had opened their eyes to the man he truly was, I didn’t know. Regardless, April, the stupid bitch, didn’t realize that her reaction was going to cost her something precious.
Her daughter.
Savannah had tried to stay in touch with April. She’d call and invite her mother to meet for coffee. There was the occasional text. But even those were dwindling. When Savannah did talk to her, all April did was complain about Hux and the trophy wife.
Apparently, I was special enough for a nickname.
Savannah and I had grown closer over the summer, mostly because we spent so much time together at the gallery. We weren’t best friends. She still loved to throw me the eye rolls and glares and whatevers when she was feeling sassy. But I think she realized that I was on her side. I’d always be there for her in her time of need.
Every day we made a little more progress. Every day, our family’s bond grew tighter.
School would be a welcome dose of normalcy for Savannah, though Hux was already mourning the loss of the time he’d had with her over the summer. No more Thursday afternoon matinees. No more Tuesday lunch dates while I manned the gallery. No more breakfast muffin runs to the coffee shop on Fridays while I slept late.
He was going to have to compete with her friends. Male friends.
Savannah didn’t have a boyfriend, she had boys. Travis. Jordan. Christian. The latest kid was named Mitchell or Michael or Micah—I couldn’t keep up. One or more would swing by the gallery while she worked. They’d flirt shamelessly in the showroom.
My poor husband was not adjusting well to sharing her attention.
Last week, he’d forbidden her to have friends come over during work hours, unless they were girls. After a screaming match between the two, he’d escaped to his studio for hours and Savannah had stormed to her room and slammed the door.
It had been their first knock-down, drag-out fight.
When I’d found Hux in the studio, he’d had a paintbrush in his hand and a look of horror on his face.
I was proud of him for not giving into the fear of losing her, for standing his ground. The two of them had worked it out, because as much as Hux didn’t want to hurt Savannah, she didn’t want to hurt him either.
There’d be more bumps along this road. She was a teenage girl with a wild streak, and the more comfortable she became around us, the more willing she was to let that streak shine.
But never in my life had I looked forward to a year.
She was probably too old for me to step in as a mother-type figure. But I was a loyal friend and I had a feeling in the years to come, she’d need one. All women did.
We rolled down the gravel lane to the site of our future home, finding Kase and our architect waiting.
The walk-through went quickly, the only major sticking point being Hux’s studio. He wanted to give Savannah an enormous bedroom and me a shower the size of Montana to sing inside. But the man wouldn’t even consider a new studio. He wanted to have Kase move the studio from his backyard up here.
Why wouldn’t he listen to reason? He could have a brand-new studio connected to the house. No more trudging through the winter snow or melting in the summer heat.
“But—”
“I don’t need a new studio.”
“And I don’t need a kitchen island as big as a car.”
He crossed his arms over his chest.
Stubborn mule. “Why can’t we just plan out a new studio? We can put it right here.” I spun in a circle, the tall fall grasses tickling the denim of my jeans. “Then Kase can try to move your old studio. If it survives, great. If not, you’ll have this space too.”
Hux sighed. “Are you going to let this go?”
“Nope.”
“Fine,” he grumbled.
I clapped and winked at Kase.
Kase wasn’t excited to move the old studio, given the cramped nature of our current neighborhood. Just getting it out of the yard would be a struggle. This was step one in our convince Hux to give up the old studio scheme. Step two was having the new studio be so amazing, with custom shelves for his paints, top-of-the-line lighting and a surround sound system, that Hux would step inside and fall in love instantly.
I was already planning the reveal. It was going to be the two of us, Hux in a blindfold. I planned to be naked, simply to reinforce the new studio’s superiority.
After another stroll through the meadow, imagining how it would change, Hux and I left Kase and the architect behind and drove to the gallery.
Hux hadn’t replaced Katie, unless you counted me and Savannah. He’d been hesitant to hire anyone from the outside, choosing to run it himself for a while. With my help, of course. I’d offered to work and be treated like an employee, paid on a salary for my time, but Hux had nixed that idea instantly.
I wasn’t an employee.
I was a co-owner. Fifty-fifty, another one of my husband’s stipulations. I’d argued for less, but the man had his ways of torture. Delicious, magnificent ways. After a night of endless orgasms, I’d finally given in.
Hux stayed at the studio, painting most days, while I was at the gallery. Some days, he came with me, especially the days when Savannah was working too. With tourist season coming to a close, he wasn’t as busy keeping up with demand. Just yesterday, we’d closed for a long, late lunch at the White Oak, seated beside Nelson.
It had been a fun few months, learning everything there was to know about the gallery. Lately, Hux had been teaching me how to hang paintings and shift the lights to bring out various colors. The atmosphere in the gallery was lighter now that the tension between Katie and me was gone.
Word around Calamity was that Katie had moved a few weeks after Hux had fired her. He was struggling with her betrayal. Hux had lost a person he’d trusted. A person who hadn’t deserved that trust.
But we were making new friends. Slowly, I was pulling Hux out of his shell. Just this past weekend, we’d gone to dinner with Lucy and Duke. I hoped that if Hux’s relationships with some good friends deepened, the loss of Katie wouldn’t bother him so much.
“What’s the plan for today?” Hux asked as we walked inside the gallery.
“Will you help me restage the front window?”
“No.”
“Hux.” I dropped my purse on the corner desk, then planted my hands on my hips. “It’s been three months.”
“So.”
“I’m sick of seeing my face.”
“I’m not.”
“It’s time.”
He shook his head. “I like that up front.”
“Why? It’s not even for sale. And I’m tired of people coming in and asking if it’s me.” Why people felt the need to ask was beyond me. Clearly, that portrait was of me.
“Babe, no.”
“Honey,” I drawled through clenched teeth. “How about we put it in your new studio at the house?”
He shook his head and moved into my space. “I like it on display. Tells everyone who comes by exactly who you are.”
“Your muse.”
“My wife.” He threaded his fingers into my hair, pulling me close. Then he dropped a kiss to my lips and let me go.
I was proud to be his wife. I was proud to have inspired a piece like that. So if he wanted to leave it out front, I’d indulge him until next year’s tourist season began. But that was where I was drawing a line.
As much as I wanted Hux to display his art, I also wanted to sell artwork. Featuring a painting that was neither his typical style of work, nor for sale, wasn’t a stellar business model.
“My mom emailed me this morning,” I said as we settled in for the day. The front window was off-limits, but we’d decided to add one of Hux’s newest pieces to a wall, meaning there was some shuffling to do. The weather was changing and foot traffic on First was dwindling, so we got to work with fewer interruptions.
“What did she say?”
“They want to come here for Christmas.”
“Hopefully we’ll be close to done at the house.”
“I hope so too.” I’d love nothing more than spending our first Christmas together in our new home. “If not, they can stay—”
A woman’s enraged shout rang outside, loud enough to permeate the gallery walls and windows.
Hux and I shared a look, then we both bolted for the front door. We stepped onto the sidewalk just in time to hear it again.
“Kerrigan?”
She was standing across the street, one block down. I started rushing down the sidewalk before I even recognized what was happening. I dodged other shop owners who’d come outside to witness the commotion.
Kerrigan had a piece of paper in her hand. She was red-faced and fuming, wearing a pair of black leggings and a tank top with the gym’s logo.
In front of her was a man in a charcoal three-piece suit. His dark hair was neatly combed, his frame tall and straight. He was a bit too well-dressed to fit in Calamity, but he stood stoic and firm, like the mountains in the distance, as Kerrigan raged in his face.
“Fuck you!” Her curse bounced off the storefronts.
“Shit,” I hissed, picking up my pace. Kerrigan didn’t lose her cool, not like this.
Hux’s bootsteps were right behind me.
We rushed across the street in time to reach their side as Kerrigan ripped up the paper in her hand and threw the shredded pieces into the man’s face.
He didn’t so much as flinch. “Thirty days, Ms. Hale.”
Who was this stranger? He was new to Calamity because I would have remembered that face. His strong jaw was covered in a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes were shaded by mirrored sunglasses. His shoulders were as broad as Hux’s, his suit cut to perfection around the man’s muscled frame.
“Thirty days,” he repeated, then he was gone, striding past us. His polished shoes clicked on the cement.
“Hey,” I panted, touching Kerrigan’s shoulder. “What happened? What’s going on?”
She shook her head, glaring at the man’s back. But then her eyes flooded, her shoulders fell, and she looked at me with utter hopelessness. “He’s going to take it all.”
“Take what all?” Hux asked. “Who was that guy?”
“My investor. Or, the grandson of my investor. He’s going to take it all. I can’t . . .”
“Can’t what? What’s going on?”
She buried her face in her hands and cried. “I’m in over my head. I’m broke.”
“Oh no.” I pulled her into my arms and gave Hux a worried look.
His scowl was aimed at the man in the suit, who spared us one quick glance before sliding into his Jaguar and driving away.
“What can I do?” I asked.
Kerrigan shook her head, standing straight. Then she wiped her face dry, her gaze fixed on Jane’s. “I need a drink.”
Without another word, she marched toward the bar.
“Are they even open?” I asked Hux. It was barely past ten.
“Guess we’ll find out.” He took my elbow and steered me after my friend.
Three hours later, Kerrigan had explained all about her financial problems. Problems that wouldn’t have been problems had her investor not passed away, leaving everything to his ruthless grandson.
“I’m screwed,” she slurred, raising her empty tumbler.
Jane appeared across the bar, trading Kerrigan’s empty glass for a full one. The bar didn’t officially open until eleven, but Jane had heard Kerrigan’s rampage too and had made an exception to business hours.
“You know? I can’t even taste the vodka anymore.” Kerrigan hiccupped and gulped her drink.
“Cuz that’s water, sweetie.” Jane patted her on the shoulder. “And as much fun as it’s been for you girls to keep me company all morning, I think it’s time for you to go home. Your daddy’s here.”
“No,” Kerrigan groaned, collapsing forward on the bar. “You called my dad?”
“Yes, she did.” Kerrigan’s father appeared, helping her to her feet. Then he collected his daughter in his arms while she burst into tears. He shuffled her to the door, turning to mouth, “Thank you.”
“Phew.” I gave Jane a smile, then stood. “Thanks, Jane.”
“She’ll bounce back.”
“I hope so.” I waved and made my way outside. The bright morning light was blinding after three hours in a dark bar.
Once Hux’d had Kerrigan and me situated at the bar, he’d returned to cover the gallery. He’d been texting me but I was anxious to give him the full recap of what I’d learned. Only the gallery was empty when I walked through the door.
“Hux?” I called.
Footsteps pounded above me. What was he doing upstairs?
There was no need to ask. Hux appeared with fresh paint smears on his jeans. “Think I’ll turn the upstairs into a studio. Then we can both come here during the day.”
I hid a smirk, having thought of that months ago. But now that it was Hux’s idea, he wouldn’t resist.
“What if you get sick of me?”
“Never.” He stepped close, bringing a finger to my face. He traced the bridge of my nose with a finger smeared with white. “Love you.”
“Love you too.”
And there, with a streak of white on my nose, I melted into my husband’s arms.
This marriage had begun as a lie. A ruse. A hoax.
Turns out, the only people we’d been bluffing were ourselves.
