Tough Luck Hero (4 page)

“When you get to the airport, explain the situation,” she continued. “I can't make any guarantees, but let's see what they can do.”

He hung up after that, then smiled at the man behind the counter. This was an awful lot of human interaction for being this hungover. “Just checking out,” Colton said.

“Oh yes, Callie from the gift shop called over to let me know you would be over here. Newlyweds.”

He rubbed his hand over his forehead. “Yes.”

“Do you need transportation to the airport?”

“Yes,” Lydia supplied for him. “A taxi would be great.”

“I think,” the guy said, smiling as though he had just managed to procure them heaven and earth, “I can make that a little bit more special for you. The car will be waiting at the curb in a few moments.”

“That isn't necessary,” Colton said.

“Of course it is, Mr. West,” he said. “We want to make sure you have the best possible service during this special time.”

Colton supplied his credit card and everything else, signing the bill before handing it back to the man.

“Thank you,” Colton said, keeping a tight leash on his temper.

Because that was what he did. Regardless of how he felt. Even when all was right with the world.

Then he walked toward the automatic doors that would lead them outside into the bright midafternoon sunlight. And when they arrived outside, they both stopped in their tracks.

CHAPTER THREE

“N
O
WAY
,”
L
YDIA
SAID
, looking around the inside of the Hummer limousine they were currently taking to the airport. “There's a stripper pole over there. In the limo.”

“Maybe it's just so people have something to hold on to.”

“Well, that's all
I
would be using it for.”

“This is our honeymoon,” he pointed out, probably just to rile her because there was no way in all the world Colton was sincerely suggesting she get up and dance.

“Does that mean you're going to get up on the pole for me?” Lydia asked, leaning back in her seat and stretching her legs out in front of her. She was doing her very best to keep her tone casual, to keep from blushing. To keep from remembering anything that might have happened last night.

This entire morning—afternoon—had been a study in walking through the deepest darkest pit of hell as far as she was concerned.

A hangover like she hadn't experienced in ever, a walk of shame in a ridiculously fluffy bridesmaid dress and rhinestone-encrusted high heels along with hair so large she would inspire envy in beauty pageant contestants everywhere.

But that wasn't the worst part. Experiencing this with any guy would be traumatic. Experiencing it with Colton West was just too much. Her dignity was now a rare and endangered species. Like a spotted owl or snowy plover. She needed someone to come and protect it. Maybe if she had feathers people would be more concerned for her well-being.

Her dignity might have been damaged, but her sense of self-pity had never been healthier.

“You say that, Lydia, but I have a feeling you would actually pay me good money to stay off the pole.”

“True,” she said, gripping her purse tightly, as though it might shield her from yet more embarrassment. Plus, focusing on clinging to that specific item helped keep her brain busy so it didn't do anything stupid like imagine how Colton might look if he were to engage in any sort of striptease.

Nope. No.

She might not be able to remember last night, but her memories of him shirtless in the hotel room were still way too vivid for comfort.

He was...he was everything a man should be. Broad-shouldered and lean. A chest and stomach so defined he looked like he belonged on the cover of a men's magazine, making other men feel insecure about their lack of abs.

Except, in order to be on a men's magazine he would have to be waxed bare. And Colton was not.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry. She did not need to be pondering his chest hair. Or his muscles. Or anything at all except the predicament they were in.

The drive to the airport seemed interminable. She could only hope they would be able to get seats far, far away from each other on the plane.

Of course, that turned out not to be the case. When they arrived at the airport check-in the very helpful,
very
friendly man at the counter offered them a free ticket exchange, and a bump up to first class. For the newlyweds, he'd said, overly cheerful.

Why was it that today of all days they were experiencing the height of customer service everywhere they went?

She was so accustomed to people not giving a damn, and in this situation she would have preferred it.

But no. Everyone was doing their best to make sure that Colton and Lydia got to spend as much time together as possible.

Still, she thought ruefully, as they sat on the small plane waiting to take off and the stewardess poured champagne into a real glass, it could be worse. She lifted the bubbly to her lips, needing a little bit of a crutch to boost her for the journey.

“Your attempt at a hangover cure?” Colton asked, nodding toward her glass.

“At this point there's no making it worse, really.” Her head still hurt, in spite of the coffee.

“Don't drink too much,” he said.

“You're not the boss of me,” she muttered.

“No, but when you start drinking you find it difficult to keep your hands off me.”

She scrunched her face. “Colton, me being a little bit buzzed is the only way we're going to make it through this flight without me doing you serious bodily harm.”

“So you're saying there's a happy alcohol medium you're reaching for?”

“Yes. Totally sober I would like to strangle you. Completely trashed I apparently...” She let that sentence die as her face heated. “But a glass of champagne or two might just take the edge off.”

“The
edge
? Because I'm so horrible.”

“You aren't horrible.” She looked down at her glass. “You're...you know...well, you're you.”

“That's very informative, Lydia.”

She gritted her teeth. “You're high-handed. A bit bossy.”

He laughed. “That's funny coming from you.”

“I already know I don't want to know why you think that's funny,” she bit out, determined to ignore him now.

Thankfully, the flight from Las Vegas back up to Portland wasn't terribly long, and she busied herself answering texts thanks to the onboard Wi-Fi. Though she wasn't entirely certain answering those texts was any less uncomfortable than making conversation with her groom.

Because people wanted explanations. And in all honesty, she couldn't give them one. She didn't have an explanation.

She breathed a sigh of relief when the plane touched down, but that was short-lived when she fully realized that they now had to make their way back to Copper Ridge.

Their town was too small to have its own airport. Which meant they had to make an hour and a half drive over to Portland's whenever they wanted to go anywhere.

“We have to rent a car,” she said, feeling extremely persecuted.

“I'll handle it,” he said.

“I know you're a West, Colton,” she said, following after him. “Success leaks from your pores, lightning from your fingertips and all that hyperbole. But I do have my own money.”

“Yes. I know you do. Don't worry about it. Why don't you hang out? Spend some time admiring the carpet, I hear it's famous.”

“No, the carpet they ripped out was famous.
This
carpet isn't famous.”

He lifted a shoulder, his expression one of supreme disinterest. “I only caught part of the news story.”

“The carpet was the Grand Marshal in a parade,” she continued, because she knew about it and he didn't. And it felt important to exert superior knowledge, even if it was about an old airport carpet and the general strangeness of the Portland area.

His eyebrows shot upward. “We really need to get the hell out of Portland.”

They were sorted into their rental car quickly and on the road only a half hour later. They headed out of the city, taking a winding two-lane road that led to the coast.

“I haven't been on a road trip in a while,” she said. “Well, not since we went to the airport yesterday.”

“But we had a driver,” he pointed out. “That isn't the same.”

“True. So,” she said, taking a deep breath, “what...are we going to do?”

It occurred to her then, now that the earlier fog was wearing off, that she and Colton had never actually had a conversation when they were alone. They were usually in groups, or standing somewhere where they had friends nearby. Because they never willingly interacted. It was always circumstantial. Always something they had to partake in to be polite. Definitely not something either of them would ever do on purpose. And now they were trapped in a car together.

Now they were trapped in a marriage together.

Lydia's heart started beating faster. Her palms were sweating. She was officially starting to panic.

Then suddenly, a hysterical bubble of laughter exploded from her lips.

“Something funny?” he asked.

“All of this,” she said, the words coming out as half a screech. “We hate each other. And yet...we're married.”

“I still don't think it's very funny.”

“It's hilarious,” she said. “Made even more hilarious by the fact that we made it impossible to fix this. Because we texted the whole world. And even then...if we were anyone else...it wouldn't matter, would it?”

“Maybe not.”

The hysteria subsided, and suddenly she felt just...much less. Much less everything. Small and weak sitting next to Colton. Unsure of what to do with what had happened. Unsure of how to cope with the reality of the situation they were in.

And she was never unsure. Not anymore. She'd found her place. Her people. And she knew what to do with that.

She hated this. She had to get it together.

She took a shaky breath. “The election is in four months,” she said. “I can't have anything messing up my chances.”

“Of course not,” he said, sounding resigned.

“Why did Natalie... I mean, maybe we talked about this last night, but I honestly don't remember. Why did she leave?”

“Hell if I know,” he said, the words harsh. “She did nothing but obsess about this wedding for the past eight months. She was...I would say overly invested in the idea of marrying into a family like mine.”

“You mentioned...you mentioned something about your dad.”

There was a slight pause, and she turned to look at him. His arms were tense, his hands gripping the wheel tight. “My dad, it turned out, had a bastard child some thirty-two years ago,” Colton said, his tone dry. “That may have had something to do with her deciding not to show up, it's true.”

She tried her best to process that bit of information. But it was a lot. Nathan West had never seemed like anything but the perfect husband, father and role model for the community, at least not from her point of view. It was difficult to imagine him betraying his legacy like that.

“But,” Colton continued, “since causing a scandal was her primary issue with that bit of information about my dad, I can't really imagine she would have abandoned me at the altar to try and avoid gossip.”

“You have a point.” She worried her lip. “Wait... Do we know who...”

“Jack Monaghan.”

Lydia nearly choked. “Jack Monaghan is your half brother?”

She had gotten to know Jack in passing over the years. Really, every woman in town was aware of him on some level. Most of them on an intimate level, prior to his getting engaged to Kate Garrett.

Lydia didn't know him
that
way. Lydia had never gone there. She wasn't one for bad boys with wicked blue eyes and charming smiles. Well, she noticed them. She thought they were hot, and spent a little bit of time staring at them, but she didn't pursue one-night stands. Not with anyone.

She remembered last night and groaned.

There was nothing wicked about Colton's blue eyes, nothing particularly charming about his smile. Yet, even while she thought of that, she realized that his eyes were the same color as Jack's.

But they seemed cold. And he didn't have that easy way about him. That breezy charm that seemed to roll off of Jack in waves. No, Colton was rigid. He was controlled. He was inflexible.

“I was going to say that I can't believe it,” she said, “except, you do sort of look like him.”

“I guess,” Colton said, his words clipped. “Lord knows how long before this gets spread around. I think it's kind of a miracle it hasn't already. But then, it isn't just my dad making waves. There's Sierra, taking up with a bartender.”

“Ace owns the bar, so it isn't quite like you're making it sound.”

“Pregnant out of wedlock,” he pointed out.

“Didn't they get married after?”

He shrugged. “I guess so. I'm just listing my family's sins. Of course, there's Madison. And her little indiscretion, but she was seventeen. Still, people tend to blame her for what happened with that dick because she was painted as some kind of home wrecker, even though she was still a kid.”

“For respectable pillars of the community you do have a lot of skeletons.”

“I think respectable pillars of the community do tend to have more than their fair share. Respectability makes a wonderful smoke screen.”

“And what about you?”

He laughed, a rueful sound. “I'm
actually
respectable.”

“Me too,” she said.

Common ground with Colton. That was almost as weird as being married to him.
Almost
.

“I guess we just blew all that to hell.”

“No. We didn't,” she said. “Because true love.”

He took his focus off the road for a moment, the electric blue of his eyes sending a shock straight down through her system. “True love?”

“That's how we're going to spin it.”

“Definitely better than the truth.”

They were silent for the rest of the drive. She was too exhausted to think of anything logical to say. She had a feeling that if she tried to continue making conversation with him they would only fight. She didn't have the energy for that, either. So she kept her focus pinned on the scenery. The trees that grew thicker and taller as they drove farther out from the city. The mountains shrouded them on either side, making it feel darker here. As though they were shielded from the sun, a canopy of lush greens protecting them from the harshest rays.

Unlike most of the locals in her age group, she was not originally from Copper Ridge. She had moved there from Seattle eight years ago.

Most people left for a while, came back later to settle down. Or, if they were first-time residents of Copper Ridge, they were usually retirees. She was the odd one out. But she loved her adopted home more than anything. Expanding the tourism there was a passion of hers, and had been from the moment she had arrived. Strengthening the economy, making it more viable for people to stay. For people to raise families and thrive doing something other than working hard in the mills, or deep-sea fishing. She had carved out a place for herself there. The place she had never had anywhere else. She couldn't face the idea of losing it now.