Thousand Yard Bride (11 page)

But the truth wasn't much safer.

My hope was that I'd be the only one to suffer, that Jo would keep her job—her reputation—somehow. I wanted this to work out. And the longer I stood there, facing down my father with his bitter disappointment and my mother with her ghost-like presence, the less I felt it could.

I turned my back on them and walked out the door.

"Hunter!"

My father ran across the lawn, his jacket flapping. I half-faced him, my hand on my car door. "Didn't you say enough back there?"

Breathing heavily, he straightened and put his hands up. "Ignore your pride a moment and listen to me." Ignore
my pride?
He was one to talk. "You messed up. We can both agree there. But let's talk solutions."

My hand fell from the car. "I'm listening."

His voice evened out. "If it gets out that Jo is pregnant, you'll lose everything. This family will look terrible, it'd be a huge scandal."

I smirked wide. "You're not endearing me to listen, Pops."

"Marry her."

That made me freeze, my voice pitching high. "Ex-fucking-scuse me?"

"It doesn't have to mean anything. But a baby with your under the radar girlfriend turned wife will keep the dogs away. Hell, people will probably love it. Celebrity weddings and babies make people spend dollars."

"You really have no boundaries."

"
You're
the one with no boundaries, sleeping with your P.R. agent." His hair waved in the air, his mouth a bloodless line. "It's the only way, Junior."

"This plan," I said, considering him suspiciously. "You came up with it awfully fast."

His face was smooth as stone. "Let's just say after your little fiasco with Poppy, watching you go insane as some poor excuse for coping—" I laughed sharply with disgust, he ignored me and kept going. "—I had a feeling you'd slip up."

"Got it. You expected this would happen and you were ready." Opening my car, I sat inside, speaking to him through the window. "I bet you're real glad you did. Real smug that you were right about me."

I didn't hang around to listen to him. As much as I hated my father, something else was bothering me.

Marry her. Marry Jo.

My dad was a bastard for telling me to fix this or else he'd burn her world down. Mine, too. But there was something else here. A thing so black and slimy and such a part of me that I drove faster just to try and escape it:

I loved this plan.

It meant I'd get to see Jo—something I couldn't get enough of and itched for constantly.

Pulling out my phone, I did the only thing I could think of.

I messaged Reese for advice.

L
anie came
over as soon as I called her. I told her about my ankle over the phone, but not about the pregnancy. She arrived at the door with a couple of pints of ice cream and a six-pack of beer.

“Nothing makes me feel better like a drink and Ben and Jerry’s,” Lanie said, trying to make me feel better. Then she saw the pile of tissues on the cushion beside me. “Are you alright, sis? Is your ankle really that bad?”

Lying back on the couch, I shoved the pile of tissues away so she could sit. “I have some news."

“Now you're scaring me," she laughed nervously. "Did you get fired?"

“No. But I expect I will. Lanie, I’m . . . pregnant.” My eyes filled with tears, the puffy skin burning and raw from the constant saltiness.

Lanie put her hand on my shoulder. “Oh, Jo! How did this happen, are you sure?"

Sniffling, I took the pint of ice cream and held it to my forehead—I hoped it'd soothe the throbbing pain. “That night in LA. I thought we used a condom, but maybe we didn't. I don’t know anymore.”

“It's
Hunter's?"
I was almost offended by her surprise, but she was quick to give me a firm hug. That was better than any ice cream. "Does he know?"

“Yeah, we found out together when he took me to the ER for my ankle.”

I was about to finish the story when I heard a knock on the door. Lanie stood, staring between me and the door. "Uh, did you order pizza or something?"

I shook my head, my eyes wide.

"Are you expecting someone?"

Again, I shook my head. "Oh no, what if it's Hunter?" I'd made him leave earlier and I already regretted that. I'd just been so unsure and terrified.

Lanie got up and squinted through the peephole. Shooting me a look of pure shock, she opened the door. It wasn't Hunter who walked in, though for a second, in the low lights of the apartment hallway, I could have been fooled.

But Hunter's father had none of the same charm or pleasantness of his son. Maybe he never did. He was wearing some kind of flamboyant looking jacket and he smelled like whiskey.

“Who might you be?” he asked Lanie.

She gawked at me helplessly—she must have known who he was by sight.

“This is my sister, Lanie. Come in, Mr. Daniels,” I said, trying to act cool.

He entered my living room with a benevolent expression on his face. He seemed like he was trying to be nice, and that made me trust him even less. “Hunter told me everything, Miss Cooke. I come to you tonight with three options for how we can all move forward."

Leaning forward, I grabbed for my crutches. I was feeling vulnerable on my couch with my ankle propped on a table beside some bottles of beer. "Options? What?"

He glanced at the ice cream and drinks, then back to me. "The first option is the quickest. I think you know what I mean, and it’s the easiest way to put all of this behind us. If money is an issue, I’d have you under the best care with the best physicians and the bills would be covered by myself—”

“That’s not going to happen,” I said, hating Hunter’s dad for even suggesting that I get rid of the pregnancy.

Lanie shut the door loudly. "Hey, excuse me, but who do you think you are to come marching in here to give my sister
options?"

“I'm the man who wants to stop two careers from being ruined thanks to some stupid hormones," he said, his quiet calmness worse than if he'd shouted. "Hunter will lose everything if the world finds out he got a one-night stand pregnant."

I scowled, but he was hitting on the same fears I'd had so far.

"Plus," he said, "I'll make sure that all of your past professional failings come to light. Not only will you be the harlot that seduced a pro ball player for money, but you’ll be known as the person who got Camille Von Ella hooked on drugs again. You told her to be thin, and gave her what she needed to stay that way. That’s how it will look once I’m done with you. I know all about how you P.R. people play your little games.”

Hunter’s father stepped closer to me, and I leaned into the couch. “That never happened!"

“The truth rarely matters in these cases,” he continued. “You should know that. My, you really aren’t very good at your job, are you?”

Lanie jumped in to defend me. “Hey, don’t talk to her like that.”

He leveled his stare on me. “This situation is difficult for all of us.”

I seethed at his every word. I wanted to kick him out, but I needed to know what his plan for Hunter was.

When he saw I was done, he went on. “Option number three I think you will find to be the most amenable. You and Hunter will be married, and soon. You will pretend as though you’d been secretly dating, but ironically enough, didn't want the media attention. People will buy it; it makes for a good story. Then, when your pregnancy news comes out, it won’t be a scandal that will topple the Hawks' franchise. Hunter has already agreed to my terms, but I need to know that I can trust you not to ruin it all. Do we have a deal, Miss Cooke?”

The drumming in my chest became a stampede that hurt my ribs. I couldn't breathe; I couldn't speak. He wanted me to
marry
Hunter? Beyond that, to lie about our lives, our relationship?

He thought this was an actual option for me?

“I think you need to leave, Mr. Daniels,” I said.

“I’ll go, but we’re not through yet. Think carefully on all of this, Ms. Cooke,” he said.

Lanie shut the door behind him, whirling on me right after. “Holy fuck, that guy is off his rocker.”

Grabbing one of the beers, I nearly opened it—then I remembered the baby, so I stopped. “You aren’t wrong, Lanie.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Well, I can’t actually marry Hunter, can I?” She shrugged in response, so I argued, “I barely know him, Lanie.”

“I know, I know. But—”

“But what? His plan is completely insane."

My sister took a breath and then said carefully, “He said Hunter okayed the plan."

That ice cream was looking more tempting. I grabbed it up, popping the lid and digging in. "That doesn't matter. Hunter is nuts, too."

"He's
also
the father, and you don’t hate him, right?”

“I don't think ‘don’t hate’ translates into ‘happily ever after,’” I snorted around a mouthful of chocolate and mint. The smell of it reminded me of Hunter—I shoved it away abruptly.

Lanie came my way, sitting on the arm of the couch. “It’s not like it has to last forever."

“Just stop.” I groaned and rubbed my temples. “I need to think about this.”

“Take your time. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“Can you go back in time?” Lifting a hand, I told her not to answer. "Thanks for coming by, I mean it. We'll talk tomorrow."

She scooped up the beer, walking backwards away from me. "I'll take these back. Keep the ice cream."

Though I smiled and nodded, I took one more look at the ice cream and knew it was going to end up in my trash.

Just like my life if I didn't accept this insane excuse of an offer.

* * *

I
spent
the whole weekend on the couch letting my ankle heal. The pain became secondary to my constant migraines from looking for an answer to the baby situation.

I almost called Hunter fifteen times. I willed him to call me.

The weekend went by with nothing but silence.

I was late to work on Monday morning, which was unlike me, but I’d been caught off guard by a bout of morning sickness.
Is this the glowing beauty of the miracle of life?
I asked, staring blearily into my toilet—a place I was becoming intimately familiar with.

When I got to SportsFire HQ I hustled to my office to make sure no one noticed me coming in. Fortunately, I earned sympathy with my bandaged-up ankle. But it wasn't a get out of jail free card.

Katherine, one of my many bosses, teetered into my office on her sky-scraper heels. “Morning, Jo. Just thought I’d let you know that Chloe Sutton snagged the Yoga Star account.”

Gasping, I searched her face. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, she’s a shark. She snagged the contract when you were tied up in LA with Hunter Daniels. Not your fault, but I thought you should know.”

With a waggle of her fingers and an air kiss, she left me alone. Sliding low in my chair, I groaned. As a new rep with SportsFire, I had to hustle to build my client list. But so far I'd only had two leads, one with Yoga Star, and the other with my rock climbing gym.

I’d been so busy with Hunter that I’d left myself exposed. At least there was no way that Chloe could know about my gym. I’d have to step up my game. Losing a contract that I was counting on put the pressure on me, money-wise.

"It's not looking so great for your college fund, kid," I mumbled down at my belly. I'd only known of the pregnancy for a few days, but I was quickly forming a connection with this bare idea of a person inside of me.

Money was a constant stressor for me. Becoming a single mom multiplied it tenfold.

You don't have to be single.

Hunter Senior's offer swam through my head like a barracuda on the hunt. Scowling, I went to work, hoping that taking control would make me feel better. I worked all day researching the quarterly earnings reports for ClimbTime. I wanted to build them a proposal that they couldn't say no to.

I didn’t realize it was almost eight at night until my phone rang. Blinking, I eyed the number.

Hunter?

Like my fingers had a mind of their own, I answered.

“Hey, Jo,” he said. I couldn’t read his mood, but his voice was like velvet in my ears and I closed my eyes with a shiver.

“Hi, Hunter,” I replied cautiously.

“How’s the ankle?”

“Least of my worries,” I said truthfully.

“Can we talk in person?” he asked.

Again, my body acted before I could think it over. "I'd like that."
Ugh, too eager.
"Meet me at my place in an hour." It was the only real private place I could think of.

I drove home as fast as I could, my mind buzzing the whole way. As I parked and walked up to my door, I saw Hunter standing there, holding flowers.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Well,” he said, “If we’re going to even consider getting married, I was thinking that I should give you flowers at least once?”

“Are you really considering your dad’s offer?” I asked.

Hunter closed the gap between us. He'd put on a tight-fitting black shirt, his slacks creating sharp lines from his trim waist to his knees. There was an undeniable dreaminess to discovering him here with flowers. But I was terrified it was a trick; a ploy.

Hunter didn't want a family with me. He hardly knew me.

He just wanted to save his career.

Don't I want the same thing?

His lips were too close to me, I could remember how they felt even now, watching him speak. “I want to be there for you, Jo. I don’t want to pretend that this kid isn’t mine. If that means we get married to keep things from exploding into shit, is that the worst thing that could happen?”

I stared at the flowers, at his intense eyes. “I can’t believe we’re both actually considering this."

“So you are, too?”

“I think so,” I whispered. “We don’t have to stay married forever. And if it saves our careers, that helps the baby, too. Right?”
I'm looking for a way to justify it. I'm definitely mother of the year, ugh.

Hunter got down on one knee right in front of my door. “In that case, I brought you this. I had to dig all the way to the bottom of my Frosty Cocoa Rice.”

A nervous giggle escaped me. I expected him to pull out a dull plastic toy, but instead, a very real and very expensive looking diamond ring glinted in the lights above my apartment complex.

Fuck. I couldn't breathe.

“Joanne Cooke, will you marry me?” he said.

It was supposed to be funny. I could tell he wanted it to be. But my heart was stuttering; seeing him kneeling at my feet made this too real. How much of this was a game, how much was reality?

My emotions were getting muddled just so everyone could win.

And I . . . I liked to win.

Why didn't this feel like I was?

Taking the ring, I put it on my finger and wiggled it. "I guess this is a yes."

Just then, my neighbor yelled from where he was walking his pug in the courtyard. “Congrats, Jo! Go Hawks!”

Hunter and I both laughed, and when he stood up, his mouth passed by so close I felt the air shift. He froze, his laughter fading like he'd just realized something important. His arm extended to guide me to the door, never quite making contact with my body.

"I can walk fine," I said. "I don't need crutches anymore, even."

"It's for me," he said seriously. "I just got engaged. I might faint—hold me up, Jo. Please."

I gave him a light shove and he stumbled like I'd punched him. The top of my head felt like a balloon, trying to pull me up into the clouds. Hunter turned me into such a giddy fool. "What do we do now? Should I write something, announce it, what?"

"I'm sure that the second people see that ring, they'll figure out the story themselves."

Nodding, I bit the corner of my tongue. "Well. It's late—"