Big Man's Bride (Big Men Small Towns 1)

A few minutes later, I see her through the trees, approaching me warily. She’s changed into a pair of shorts that show off her legs and make me want to have them wrapped around my waist, and a simple t-shirt that pulls at her curves. She has a way of making the most basic things look fucking amazing. I don’t want to stop looking at her, and I desperately need to stop thinking like this if I’m going to survive with my heart in one piece.

“What’s this?”

“Honeymoon picnic,” I say.

She sits on the opposite side of the blanket, still looking at me warily.

I sigh. “I wanted to apologize. I should have told you what I was planning with the photographer.”

Her face hardens. “Thanks to you I’ve been getting shocked texts from my friends asking what the hell is happening. I’m just grateful my grandfather doesn’t pay attention to that kind of news.”

“It needed to happen.”

“Why?”

Taking a deep breath, I push aside my distaste for the subject. “If we showed up out of nowhere, married, my parents would be more likely to suspect it for what it is—a set up. If the photos appear in the papers and the gossip columns beforehand, and it looks like I moved to Tennessee and had a whirlwind romance, they might not be happy about it, but they’ll believe me.”

Ally shakes her head. “You really should have told me.” Something clicks in her face. “You were planning for even worse photos, weren’t you? That’s why you said, ‘This is only for me,’ and closed up those curtains as if there were spies at the window. Because there were!”

I wince. “I changed my mind when I saw you. Felt you. There was no part of you that I wanted to share with the world, and I’m glad that I didn’t let it happen.”

She doesn’t look happy, but somehow she doesn’t look angrier either. “Well, I guess that I should thank you for that. Even if setting it up at all makes you a fucking asshole.”

“I know.”

She picks up the glass of wine I poured her and takes a sip. “How’s your leg after the demo?”

I chuckle. “If I manage to avoid hitting it with any more hammers, it’ll be more than fine.”

After taking a bite of cracker and caviar, she licks her lips. It’s a gesture that I find more than a little mesmerizing. “It’s not really a small wonder that a rich boy doesn’t know how to swing a hammer properly. This is a big project and a lot of house for a guy like you.”

Anger prickles down my spine. She’s been needling me about that since the moment we met, and I can’t stop the words that fly out of my mouth. “You don’t know anything about me or my pain, Ally.”

“And you don’t know anything about struggle or hardship, Caleb. You don’t know what it’s like to work for something for years only to have it taken away in a heartbeat. Or to have your trust broken when you suddenly see photos of yourself on the fucking news.

“Was this really about your family at all? Or are you such a miserable person that you can’t find anyone that actually wants to be with you? Is that it? You have to bribe women into sticking around? Because even with all your money, you’re sad and alone and money is the only solution?”

Pain and rage seep through my pores. I’m barely seeing straight. “You didn’t want money when you were on your knees with my cock in your mouth. Or when you were begging me to make you come. You want me just as bad as I want you.”

“You’re full of shit,” she says, standing and tossing the glass onto the blanket.

“Am I?” I jump to my feet and grab her arm, spinning her back to face me. “What are you willing to bet that if I slide my fingers down your shorts I’ll find that your pussy is already wet for me?”

“I’m not making a bet with you,” she whispers.

My hand dips below the waistband of her shorts and deeper, past the fabric of her thong to where she’s hot and sticky and definitely, definitely wet. “That’s because you would have lost,” I say. “You want me, Ally, and there’s nothing you can do about it. You’re powerless in this situation. You just don’t know it yet.”

The flash of fear in her eyes is enough to snap me out of it, and for a moment I see myself from the outside. My hand gripping Ally’s arm hard enough that she might have bruises, hand down her shorts, anger on my face. Disgust collapses on top of me with the weight of a thousand pounds and I yank myself away from her, putting distance between us.