“In five or ten years, I’ll be right here. Raising cattle and enjoying life with my wife and family.” At least I would be if I could convince Sinclair to stay.
Stark smirked, showing the first sign of the snake he really was. “Wife, yes, well, we all know the truth about your so-called marriage.” This time it was my jaw that tightened. “I know that this marriage is a ploy to save your farm and get your so-called wife elected mayor. Come on now, Mr. Jones, you don’t think that will work, do you? The people of Salvation are too smart to fall for this.”
“You don’t talk about my wife.” My hands balled into fists. I was dying to punch that smirk off his face, perhaps take out a few of his veneers too.
Stark laughed. “Oh my, you’ve fallen for your fake wife. Is that it?” He shook his head like he pitied me.
“Get the fuck off my land, Stark. You’re trespassing. I promised my wife I wouldn’t kick the shit out of you, but I will call the sheriff.”
He held his hands up in surrender. “No need to lose control, Mr. Jones. We are civilized.”
I ground my teeth together, hating how he was insinuating I was some sort of neanderthal.
“But really, I do encourage you to consider what you’re doing. Your fake marriage will be exposed. Why not take the money? You can set your mother up in a nice place and she won’t have to work so hard on this farm. She’s worked hard enough, don't you think? She deserves a good life after dealing with your father’s abuse. This fake marriage, it’s a waste of time and effort.”
Fucker. “The only thing fake here is your charm, Stark.” I sneered.
His expression was smug as he said, “If the marriage is real, why aren’t you adopting the deputy mayor’s lovely daughter? The poor girl has no father, so surely, if you were a real family, had a real marriage, you’d adopt her and make her yours.”
Jesus, I hadn’t thought about that.
He smiled like he’d earned points. “You reconsider selling your land, Mr. Jones, or I’ll expose your wife’s plan to manipulate her way into the mayor’s chair.”
I strode down the steps, and was glad to see Stark take a step back. “If you threaten my wife again, I’ll show you all the ways the U.S. Special Forces taught me how to kill a man.”
Stark looked at me with a distasteful expression. “Bluster all you want, Mr. Jones. I will have this land. I look forward to the day you’re forced to sign those papers.” He strode to his car, climbing in and driving off.
“Fucking asshole.” I was livid. I hated that I hadn’t punched his lights out. More than that, I was worried about Sinclair. How did Stark get the idea that our marriage was fake? The only thing I could think of was the mayor, who clearly had a personal vendetta against me for taking Sinclair from him.
How Stark found out didn’t matter. What mattered was that I warn Sinclair. She’d need to be ready if Stark went public with his accusations.
I left a note for my mother on the mirror near the front door, and then drove into town to the mayor’s office.
“Wyatt, hey.” Trina smiled when she saw me but then her smile faltered. “What’s wrong?”
“Is Sinclair in?”
“Yeah.” She stood and made her way down to Sinclair’s office. I followed her. “Hey Sin, Wyatt’s here.”
I stepped inside the office with Trina.
“Is everything okay?” Sinclair asked, standing from behind her desk.
“That asshole Stark was just at the house.” I explained the entire conversation, leaving out the part about adopting Alyssa. The truth was, once he said it, I wondered why I hadn’t considered it. Probably because I knew Sinclair saw me as temporary. Temp husband. Temp stepdad. But of course, I wanted to adopt her. In the two weeks I’d known her, she’d become as much mine as if it was my sperm that had helped create her. Both Sinclair and Alyssa were my family. Mine.
“Did you punch the smarm right off his face?” Trina asked.
Sinclair sent her a disapproving glare as she came around to the front of her desk. “Don’t encourage him.”
“I told him that I promised you I wouldn’t beat the shit out of him, but that I would call the sheriff.” I hoped she appreciated my restraint.
“Have you considered filing a harassment complaint?” Trina asked.
“That’s not my concern,” I said.
“What is?” Sinclair asked, leaning back against her desk. For a minute I took her in. She was in her dark skirt. Her hair pinned up. She looked fierce and strong. I was so fucking proud of her. And, because I was a man in love with her, I had a flash of an image of fucking her on her desk. I quickly pushed it aside to focus on the problem at hand.
“First, that your boss is sabotaging you. How else did Stark know to even think our marriage was fake?”