Heart of the Hunter (56 page)

Marrying Jackson was the culmination of so many years of longing and striving that it felt like the pinnacle of my life. It was like finally having all my dreams come true. When I burst into that motel bar all those years ago, desperately searching for a man to step up and help me, I’d never in a million years dreamed that this would be the outcome. Jackson had gone so far above and beyond what I’d expected, he transformed my entire life.

He didn’t just get me to safety, he went beyond that, and spent years making sure that the men who I was messed up with would never be able to hurt me again. They’d never be able to hurt my son. My life wouldn’t have been possible if it wasn’t for the sacrifice Jackson had made. It had taken twelve years, but it had to be done. And not once did Jackson consider giving up on me.

Of course, Jackson didn’t do it for free. He’d been honest with me right from the start. ‘A life for a life,’ he said. I didn’t know what it meant at the time, but Jackson did. Jackson knew exactly what it meant. He didn’t just want to have sex with me, he wanted me to have his baby. He wanted everything I had to offer, right to the core of my being, and he intended to collect.

He possessed me in a way I didn’t even know a man could possess a woman. I was like putty in his hands. He saw me, he knew what he wanted, and I gave it to him without an ounce of resistance. That’s real power.

Right from the beginning, he knew what he wanted, and he went after it with a singleminded devotion that I’d never even known was possible. So many times, he could have given up. He could have gone for another woman. But that wasn’t in his nature. He chose me, and he moved heaven and earth to have me.

I loved him for that.

And now that he was back, he treated me like a queen. I’d never have guessed a guy like him could be so kind, and compassionate, and caring. It was like he read my mind. He knew what I wanted or needed before I did. I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything less from him. He’d always exceeded my expectations in every single way. Now he was living with me, buying me gifts, cooking me fancy meals, helping me with my business, and with parenting Sam.

He’d even built us a house. Or renovated it beyond recognition. It was a hacienda, a palace. It was more than I ever dreamed I deserved.

And tonight was the night I’d be sleeping in it for the first time. We’d come such a long way. From a motel room on a dusty highway outside of Reno, to our own beautiful villa surrounded by Jackson’s father’s vineyard.

I trembled when I thought of the sexual things Jackson would do to me in our new bedroom. It was our wedding night after all. Jackson was insatiable, and he was growing more passionate with every night we spent together.

And if he treated me like a queen, he treated Sam like a treasure.

Back at that motel twelve years ago, I’d asked Jackson if he was a good man.

He told me he wasn’t. He said he was bad to the bone. He said I’d regret ever meeting him.

At the time, I believed him. For years I believed him. He looked bad. He was scarred, tattooed, he rode a motorcycle and carried a gun. He fucked me, made me pregnant, and then disappeared. I thought he’d abandoned me. I thought he’d died. I thought I’d never set eyes on him again.

But I was wrong. The fact of the matter was that Jackson was the very best man I possibly could have run into in that moment of desperation, and he was the only man who could do the things that needed to be done. He showed me what it meant to be a man, and also what it meant to be a woman who was loved and cherished.

He was my protector, my lover, and the daddy to my child.

And he had my heart.

He’d always had my heart. Even that first night, when I was offering him sex in exchange for protection. Even when he’d run into me at the Los Lobos bar in Reno and I’d been a bitch to him. Yes, even then, he’d grabbed my heart like it was a lifesaver and he was lost at sea. He’d held my heart so tight it never escaped. It never wanted to.

My heart belonged to him.

Our wedding was in the orchard behind the house he’d prepared for me and Sam, and yes, it was the happiest day of my life.

I was so proud of Sam for helping with the house. Sam had been starving for a father, and now that Jackson was back in his life, everything finally seemed to be making sense. He had friends. He was doing well at school. He was happy and confident.

All our friends were at the wedding, of course. Lacey, Grant, Forrester and Grady were our wedding party. Sam was the ring bearer.

The priest was an old Spanish man who’d known Jackson’s father. He’d been the priest at Jackson’s parent’s wedding.

When he asked Jackson if he took me to be his wife, I thought my heart would burst.

“I do,” Jackson said, tears falling down his cheeks. I knew he had so much love for me that our marriage would last forever. He’d killed for me. Not a lot of people can say that. Jackson looked at me the way I looked at Sam. Bullets wouldn’t stop that love.

Then the priest turned to me, and asked if I would take Jackson to be my husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part. I knew the answer better than I knew my own name.

“I do,” I said.

The priest smiled. “You may kiss the bride.”

Jackson grabbed me, and there was exactly the same passion in his arms as there had been the very first time he grabbed me at the motel. He kissed me like his life depended on it. I knew he’d kiss me that way till our dying day. He’d love me and Sam forever. And we’d love him forever.

Wife Me Bad Boy

Chance Carter

Copyright © 2015 Chance Carter

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ISBN 978‐1‐927947‐53‐1

Chapter 1

Grant

Y
OU WANT TO KNOW THE TRUTH ABOUT MEN?
You want to know what we really think?

All right, I’ll tell you, but you might not like it.

Men hate weddings.

There, I said it.

I feel bad, I know it’s a really special day for every girl that ever dreamed of being a bride, but it’s the truth, and you’re better off hearing it from me now than some other guy later.

Men despise weddings the way women despise breakups, or being cheated on, or growing old. Weddings go against everything we stand for, threaten our very view of the world, and our place within it.

I’m not just speaking for myself. It’s not just me who thinks this way. It’s all men. Every last one of us hates weddings. It’s practically a requirement for being a man.

Think about it.

How do we like to view ourselves? How do we really like to imagine the way the world sees us?

A sailor, coasting into the sunset. A pirate on the High Seas, just us and our ship against everything the ocean has to throw at us. A cowboy, alone on our horse, riding into town and every women in it looking our way. A biker, cruising the open road, the wind in our hair and the sun on our face.

It probably sounds stupid, but it’s the truth. We’re simple creatures. We like simple things.

Just me and my horse and my gun, baby. Just me and my ship and my compass. Just me and my bike and a tank of gas. Hell, you don’t even have to get that fancy. Just me and my truck and my dog, baby. How’s that?

It’s the way we’re built. We’re strong. We’re rugged. We stand alone.

Rocks. Islands. Mountains.

That’s how we see ourselves. And there’s no room in there for flower arrangements and party favors and violin music.

Hell. A wedding comes along, dresses you in a goofy suit, sticks a flower on your lapel, puts a ring on your finger. It’s like having your nuts cut off with a blunt razor.

It’s literally painful to watch, even when you’re not the one on the chopping block. We watch our buddies getting married and we shake our heads. “Never me,” we say. “You won’t catch me going down without a fight. I’m the lone fucking ranger. It would be a crime to hang up these spurs.”

We watch our friends get married like they’re volunteering to be neutered. And we’re all thinking the same thing. How can he do it? How can he give up so much life, so much adventure, just to be someone’s husband? Has he lost his mind?

And I know what you’re going to say. I’ve heard it all before.

It’s love. Love overcomes everything. Love conquers the world. Love makes you want to spend your whole life with that one special someone, that one woman who lights up your world like a Christmas tree.

Maybe I just don’t get it. Maybe it’s me. I mean, you see other men getting married every day and they seem happy enough. They seem to be going along willingly.

Maybe I’m just a big, fat, stinking idiot. It wouldn’t be the worst thing someone called me. But if being an idiot is the price for maintaining my freedom, I’ll pay it. I’ll pay that price any day of the week.

So mark these words. I, Grant Lucas, will never get married. You will never see me standing at the altar, a cheesy grin on my face, a violin wailing in the background, saying “I do”.

I Do Not.

How’s that for being clear?

And if you ever see me about to tie the knot, do me a huge favor. Do me this one, almighty solid.

Shoot me in the face.

Chapter 2

Grant

B
UT MAYBE THERE’S SOMETHING I’M
missing, because even though I’m a sworn bachelor, every once in a while I get a glimpse of a different world. A place that’s warm, and safe, and tender, and full of love.

And I know I’ve said my share about weddings, but the day Jackson and Faith tied the knot was different.

Jackson looked happy. As much as it pains me to admit it, the man had a smile on his face like he’d pulled off some secret coup. He looked happier than I’d ever seen him, and we’d been through it all together. He waited a long time for that day, and he was about to marry the woman of his dreams, the woman who’d given him a child, the woman who’d been so faithful to him for twelve long years. She was so loyal even her name was Faith. And they were finally tying the knot.

Even I could admit it was a good story, painful and difficult, full of danger and despair, but full too of hope and joy, laughter and tears, and most important of all, love.

Maybe I was getting soft, but it touched me.

Jackson was the best friend I ever had, and he was finally getting the happiness he deserved. The happiness he’d earned. It was almost enough to make me forget myself and shed a tear.

Almost
.

I mean, like I said before, weddings aren’t exactly my thing.

The bride was beautiful. You have to say that, you can’t say anything else about a bride, but Faith truly was beautiful. She looked the way only a bride can on that one day when she marries the man she loves. When I saw her I thought she was an angel, dressed all in white, the light on her silk dress making it glow like it was on fire. She’d waited twelve years for that day, and it pulled at my heart strings to watch it all come together for her. It gave me hope for the future.