One wedding two brides, p.25
One Wedding, Two Brides, page 25
He deserves a good, swift kick in the butt, she thought, but refrained from saying so. Maybe in a few weeks, when Josie wasn’t quite so distraught over her husband’s abandonment.
“You mean…” Josie began quietly, her voice cracking. “You mean you and Ryder aren’t really married?”
Monica sat back in surprise. That was the last thing she’d expected Josie to focus on. Matt’s betrayal, yes. Her betrayal, yes. Her and Ryder’s marriage, no.
“Actually,” she answered, “we are.”
Her eyes narrowing, Josie fixed Monica with a stern gaze. “What do you mean? If you were engaged to Matt before coming here, then you hadn’t been dating Ryder. Had you?” Her voice rose on those last words, and her eyes widened with a look that told Monica her supposed infidelity put her one step lower than mule dung.
“No,” she said slowly. “I hadn’t been dating Ryder.” And then she averted her eyes. “I hadn’t even met Ryder before your reception.”
“I don’t understand,” Josie whined in frustration, throwing her arms in the air. “If you didn’t know Ryder, how did you end up getting married to him on the same day Matt and I married?”
Monica winced. “Did I mention that I was slightly tipsy?”
That caught Josie’s attention for a moment. “Ryder wasn’t,” she pointed out.
Monica released a pent-up breath. “No, Ryder wasn’t. It’s a long story, Josie. Can we just say that Ryder and I made a deal, and that the marriage was part of it?” Her tone begged to be let off the hook.
“What kind of deal?” she wanted to know. And she didn’t look like she’d let Monica escape until she’d heard the whole story.
“When Matt left, he took some money from me,” she said. “The fifty thousand dollars I’d lent him for the new magazine, except there is no magazine.”
Josie’s gasp portrayed Monica’s feelings perfectly.
“Somehow,” she stretched out the word, making it sound like aliens had come down from Saturn and invaded her body, “while I was still inebriated, I offered to pay Ryder if he married me to help make Matt jealous.”
“And my brother went along with it? That doesn’t sound like Ryder.”
“Apparently, I was very convincing.” She rolled her eyes. “And even though he probably wouldn’t agree to anything quite so crazy under normal circumstances, I think he saw my offer as sort of an answer to his prayers. He insisted we make it a business agreement—I invest in the ranch, and he pays me back once it starts turning a profit. You know how much he needs the money to repair the ranch after that tornado and to get the ball rolling on his equine therapy program.
“Anyway, when I woke up the next morning, I didn’t give a fig if Matt was jealous or not, I wanted nothing to do with him. Unfortunately, Ryder and I had already been married and he expected his money. The same fifty thousand dollars Matt had run off with. So we’ve remained married, hoping to get the money back.”
“How?”
“I don’t have a clue. We got into Matt’s laptop in Hawaii and got some account information, but unless Matt authorizes it, we don’t think there’s any way to access the account or transfer the money out. Since we know Matt would never willingly sign over fifty thousand dollars—or fifty dollars, for that matter—we were hoping to get him to sign a get-well card for your father so I could forge his name if we figured out a way to fake the authorization, but even that’s out the window now.”
Monica stood and began pacing the small confines of the bathroom. “I know it’s stupid. From the very beginning, everything I’ve done has been ridiculous. My head should be hung in the Great Idiots of the World Hall of Fame. I wish I could click my heels together and have it all go away, but Ryder expects his money, and Matt is your new husband, and your parents think we’re really married…” She shot Josie a pointed glance. “The never-break-up kind of married.”
“So you don’t really love Ryder,” Josie said softly. Her eyes held the same pain as when she’d been sobbing over Matt.
Monica’s spine straightened, and she folded her arms over her chest defensively. “I didn’t say that.”
“So you do love him.”
Monica averted her gaze, looking over Josie’s head, at the shower wall, into the mirror over the sink…anywhere but at Ryder’s sister, whose scrutiny seemed to be drilling into the depths of her psyche.
“I didn’t say that, either.” But her tone softened and creaked the tiniest bit, and she doubted she was fooling anyone, least of all Josie. She just prayed her sister-in-law wouldn’t press the issue.
“Matt’s not coming back, is he?” she asked instead.
Returning Josie’s frank stare, she answered honestly, “I don’t know. But past experience doesn’t lean in his favor.”
“Why did he bother to marry me if he was just going to run off after our honeymoon?”
Monica knelt at her side, stroking a hand over her hair. She had her own suspicions about that, but wasn’t sure she wanted to share them just yet. Ryder had told her that his parents planned to give Josie the cash equivalent of what her share of property was worth when she was ready to settle down or strike out on her own. Most likely, Matt had found out about Josie’s fair-sized nest egg and decided to woo it out from under her.
Who knew why he’d gone ahead with marriage to Josie, but not to Monica? Given enough time, perhaps he would have married them both just to get to their bank accounts. Or maybe Josie hadn’t been as gullible as Monica and he’d had to marry her to attain his goal. Either way, they’d both been used, and she could only shake her head at her own stupidity.
“Why didn’t someone tell me he was such a jerk?” Josie cried, burying her face once again in the washcloth.
This question, Monica could answer. “Because they didn’t know. Matt is a con man, a master manipulator. You don’t know he’s lying to you until it’s too late. And then you’re left feeling like the dumbest human being on Earth. That’s why no one can stop him,” she continued. “He moves so fast, you don’t know what hit you, and he doesn’t leave any proof of his deceit.”
Josie mumbled something beneath the damp washcloth.
“What?”
She lifted her head and faced Monica with red-rimmed eyes, but no more tears on her cheeks. “I have his signature.”
Monica blinked, not quite comprehending her words. “What?” she asked again, feeling like a definite runner-up for that Idiots Hall of Fame.
“I have his signature. You said there might be a way to get your money back from his account if you have his signature.” She stood, tossing the wet cloth into the sink as she opened the bathroom door and marched down the hall. When they reached the front room, she began digging through the suitcases someone had deposited near the front door. Pulling something out of the pocket of a carry-on, she straightened.
“He’d already checked us out of the hotel when we got into the fight about cutting our honeymoon short. He signed the room receipt.” She handed the paper to Monica with a flourish and the hint of a smile at the edges of her formerly turned down mouth. “Will it help?”
Monica stared at the page, seeing Matt’s signature at the bottom, but still not quite believing Josie had solved her and Ryder’s problem so easily. “Yeah. I mean, it should.” She looked at Josie. “Thank you.”
A flash of pain crossed Josie’s features before she quelled it and forced a smile. “I’m sorry about what Matt did to you. The money and the engagement. I’m not real happy about what he did to me, either,” she said with a forced laugh. “I figure the least I can do is help you get your money back. That ought to tick him off well and good, don’t you think?”
Monica returned her grin. “I should hope so.”
Josie held her hand in the air for a high five. “Score one for the jilted brides.”
They slapped palms and then wrapped their arms around each other, as much to celebrate their plan as to support each other’s heartache.
The front door opened and Ryder peeked his head in. “I don’t hear any crying,” he shot over his shoulder to Jordan and Ruth Ann.
Josie sniffed and straightened away from Monica. “Women don’t spend their entire lives crying over men, you know,” she informed her brother tartly.
Ryder opened the door all the way and stepped inside, eyeing them—especially Monica—with trepidation. “What were you guys doing in the bathroom for so long?”
“Powdering our noses,” Josie replied. “And discussing how much better off the world would be without men.” She said the word like she’d meant to say “rotting dung beetle larvae.”
“You don’t mean me?” Ryder asked, feigning offense and putting a hand over his heart while one side of his mouth lifted. But he looked relieved that Josie was no longer beside herself with grief.
He moved next to Monica and put an arm around her waist, pulling her snuggly against him. “I’m your Prince Charming, right, darlin’?”
She rolled her eyes at Josie and fought a smile as she returned his dubious gaze. “I’m beginning to believe there’s no such thing as Prince Charmings,” she taunted. “Just evil witches and frogs that need a lot of kissing.”
At that, his lips turned up in a full-blown grin to reveal his straight, white teeth.
“My thoughts exactly, darlin’.” His eyebrows wiggled dangerously. “Frogs. And lots and lots of kissin’.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
You know you’re in love when there are only two places in the world—where she is and where she ain’t.
“I can’t believe you told Josie that our marriage is only temporary,” Ryder huffed for what had to be the fifteenth time.
“Hush, I’m trying to work here.” Scowling, Monica hunched even farther over the papers in front of her, continuing to trace, carefully trying to perfect her version of Matt’s signature. Over and over again, she’d been practicing ever since they’d gotten home with the hotel bill Josie had given her. She still didn’t know if they’d even need his signature for anything, but it felt like the only proactive thing she could do about getting her money back until some other brilliant alternative fell into her lap.
She’d even printed out a sample authorization form from the offshore bank’s website so she’d know what they required for a transfer. And thanks to another conversation with Simon Farraday, she had a little more information than before. Still not enough to take any bold steps, but enough that she wanted to be ready if being able to forge Matt’s signature came in handy.
“But now she knows.” Ryder did an about-face and stomped back across the room, following the same path he’d been pacing since she first mentioned her small bathroom tête-à-tête with his sister. “She knows it’s a fake marriage, and that you were engaged to Matt, and that you’ll be heading back to Chicago as soon as we get this blasted money back from that bloodsucker.”
Her fingers tensed when he mentioned Chicago, jerking the pen in the wrong direction.
“Dammit,” she cursed. She pushed aside the empty sensation his words caused and focused on his antsy behavior instead. “Will you please sit down, you’re driving me bonkers.”
Shoving his hands into his front pockets, he dropped onto the nearest chair with a thump. “There,” he said in a clipped tone. “Happy?”
“Ecstatic,” she agreed, without lifting her head.
“What are we going to do about Josie?”
She tossed him a questioning glance.
“She knows,” he emphasized again. “She’ll tell Mom and Pop we’re not really married—not planning to stay married, anyway—and then the shit will really hit the fan.”
With a sigh, Monica threw down her pen and faced Ryder. “She knows the circumstances of our wedding, Ryder. It’s not like we’re mass murderers and she’s going to turn us in to the FBI. And if she’d told your mom and dad, don’t you think they’d have run the phone off the hook or kicked down the door by now? It took them all of three minutes to get here when they found out you were married…I’m guessing it wouldn’t take them half that long if they found out you weren’t.”
Taking a deep breath, she picked up the pen again and bent back to her task. “Josie’s husband just refused to come home with her from their honeymoon. I think she has a few more important things on her mind than how genuine a relationship we’re involved in.” Her hand shook as she spoke, and she held her breath to try to stop the tremors.
Ryder crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the chair. “She did give us the hotel bill so we could copy Matt’s handwriting,” he said. The first sensible thing out of his mouth since they’d arrived home.
“Exactly. She wants us to get our money back, even though she’s wrestling with some pretty nasty demons herself right now. And to be completely honest, she didn’t seem all that shocked when I told her how we came to be married.” She shifted her shoulders in discomfort. “She just wanted to know how we felt about each other now.”
She finished copying the signature just as she said the last and had no choice but to look up. Ryder sat studying her, a fierce expression on his face.
“And what did you tell her?” he asked in a low voice.
Monica swallowed and then quickly stood and moved to the refrigerator to grab herself a beer and pop the top with the magnetic opener he kept on the fridge. Yet another change she’d noticed since staying with him—she’d always opted for wine or a cocktail before, but now she found herself actually enjoying a cold brew once in a while. She’d also discovered that beer went well with the kinds of food Ryder kept on hand. Not meat, though; just because she wore blue jeans and drank Michelob Light didn’t mean she was anywhere close to abandoning her vegetarian convictions.
After taking a nice, long swallow straight from the bottle, she answered his question in a low voice. “I didn’t tell her anything.”
Ryder was hot on her heels, following her to the fridge for his own beer, then boxing her in against the counter so she was forced to continue when she might have otherwise let the subject drop. “I told her about Matt, and crashing her reception, and bribing you to marry me with a promise of large sums of cash…I didn’t think the rest was any of her business.”
“The rest?” he asked softly, standing so close she could feel the warmth of his body and the light exhalation of his breath on her neck.
Choosing to ignore him, she took another sip of beer and stared at the intricate pattern on his plaid button-down shirt instead. Her heart was beating too fast, her lungs so tight, she could barely breathe. How easy it would be to admit she had feelings for him, that while she hadn’t told Josie she loved him, his sister had concluded as much, and Monica hadn’t corrected her.
But what if he didn’t share her affections? What if the only feelings he had for her were about the money she’d promised and the passion they shared in the bedroom? She’d never considered herself a coward, but where Ryder was concerned, she was terrified of finding out she meant absolutely nothing to him while he’d come to mean…so very much to her.
When his arm snaked around her waist to pull her flush against his chest, she tensed. Not because she didn’t want him to touch her, but because she wanted it too much…and if he started to kiss her, stroke her, rev her up, she was afraid she’d open her mouth and confess everything.
“I asked you a question,” he whispered above her ear. “What’s the rest?”
She swallowed, still not meeting his eyes, and fought the urge to bare her soul. “What do you want me to say, Ryder? I’m doing everything I can to get your money for you. That’s what you want, right? We get the fifty thousand dollars from Matt’s account, and you let me go back to Chicago. That was the deal.”
She stopped talking before her voice cracked and bit her lip to keep the tears that were stinging behind her eyes at bay.
Dropping his arms, he stepped away from her. “Right. That was the deal. Thanks for reminding me,” he said, turning on his heel and marching out of the house.
…
Ryder pitched hay with a fury that left Ned and another hand eating his dust. Literally. The air around them turned hazy and almost unbreathable as he forked pile after pile through the hole in the barn floor, into the barred cattle grate below.
That was the deal, huh? What if he didn’t give a good goddamn about the deal anymore? How could she turn to molten lava in his arms and still talk about going back to Chicago with such cold indifference?
He dug into the pile of hay with such force that the tines of the pitchfork imbedded themselves in the wood of the barn floor. The jolt rippled up his arms and rattled his teeth. With a curse, he dropped the handle—which remained standing upright in the floorboards—and stormed out of the barn, leaving the rest of the job to the other two hands. They didn’t say a word, correctly reading his black mood.
Yeah, he needed the money. He’d just gotten another notice from the bank, warning him about missing payments and threatening foreclosure. Another couple of months, and he could lose the entire ranch. Fifty thousand dollars would save his ass. And when Monica had been a stranger newly escaped from the local loony bin, letting her invest in the Rolling Rock in exchange for a fraudulent marriage hadn’t seemed like such a bad idea; he’d needed the money, she’d thought she needed a husband, and no one was supposed to get hurt.
But now the idea of that damned money left a sour taste in his mouth. Sure, it would go a long way toward setting up the equine therapy barn, buying equipment, and repairing the damage caused by last summer’s tornado. The back wall of the old barn still wasn’t finished, and what was done leaned outward precariously. Sections of fence around his property were still weak and demanded replacement, adding the worry of losing stray cattle or horses to his already long list of major concerns. The entire equine-assisted therapy thing was up in the air, and until he built up his herd and purchased a couple studs—which cost a pretty penny, unfortunately—he couldn’t even get his breeding operation off the ground. There was no money coming in, and no money to expand. He was stuck between a rock and a freakin’ hard place.
