Cowboy Husband

“Yes, I fucked up. I didn’t know that my father had bound my inheritance with a timed marriage clause until I was about to sign it. It was his way of making sure the “family name” lived on. So yes, I needed to marry someone. I didn’t go to Vegas looking to get married. I was fucking pissed off and I wanted to get drunk. I wanted it to go away. And then I saw you, and I wasn’t even thinking about the contract, I just wanted you. And then you,” his voice cracks off and he takes a breath, “you were amazing. We just worked, and when you told me about what happened with Wyatt and how you felt so betrayed I knew how you felt, because my own father had just stabbed me in the back.

“And when you cried, and said that you were just looking forward to being married, and that you were worried that no one would ever want you again, I was so angry. I wanted to kill the man that had hurt you and made you feel that way. And when you suggested it, I knew I could give you what you wanted by marrying you, and I could escape the contract.”

He takes a step toward me, and I take a step back. “And then at the engagement party, I saw you and Wyatt, and I saw how brave you were, and how happy you were to have someone stand with you, and I realized that I didn’t want to be married to you just because of a stupid fucking contract. It could have been anyone, but god, Sandy, I don’t want it to be anyone else.”

My breath feels shallow in my chest, it’s too much information to process. “How can I believe you?”

“You don’t have to,” he says, “but I never sent that letter. I wanted to tell you about everything first. I wanted to give you the chance to leave before knowing what I would gain from being married to you. I was going to tell you last night. The rest of the papers on that table were the contract.”

I can’t fight the tears this time. “You lied to me.”

“I know,” he steps closer, “and I can’t ever expect you to forgive me, but I hope you will.”

“You love me?” I’m really crying now, my voice hiccupping.

His hands land on my shoulders. “I do.”

Fingers under my chin tilt my face up, and he kisses me, softly, tenderly, and the hole in my chest closes just a little, hurts a bit less. I love him, more than I ever thought. I do.

“I’ll give it up,” he says. “I won’t send the letter. It doesn’t matter to me anymore, because nothing matters if I don’t have you.”

I lean my head against his chest, completely aware that my tears are soaking into his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Will says. “I know we did this backwards. But I love you. I really, fucking love you. So much, I can’t even tell you.”

It’s hard to find my voice, and when I do find it, it’s rough from the tears. “I love you too.”

Will arms tighten around me, and he tilts my head back so that I can see him. He kisses me, and it’s not like any kiss that we’ve shared before. This one is the first one that’s truly real on both sides, and we both know it. It’s all passion and fire and suddenly I feel like the whole world could be burning down around us and I’d still let him take me right here.

From elsewhere in the apartment, I hear Anna’s voice. “I’m happy for you both, but I swear to god if you have sex on my couch I will kick both your asses.”

We laugh, and even though I know that this isn’t perfect yet, and we’ll still have things to talk about, it’s no longer broken. “There’s one thing,” I say, pushing him back far enough so that I can see his face.

“Anything.”

“I want a wedding,” I say. “One that I can actually remember.”

He grins. “So we’re staying married?”

“You think I’d let you go after we just managed to find each other?”

Suddenly I’m swept into his arms and out Anna’s front door. “In that case, Mrs. Herrington, allow me to carry you across a threshold. And straight back to our house.”

“Our house,” I say, playing with the way the phrase rolls on my tongue. “I like it.”

“I love it,” he says.

I laugh as the elevator door close behind us, and we’re finally, truly, together.

Epilogue

Three Months Later

“Ladies and Gentleman, please welcome Mr. and Mrs. Herrington.”

There’s a wave of sound and cheering from our friends as we appear in the gorgeous ballroom of the Emerald Hotel in Las Vegas. It seemed like an appropriate place to hold the wedding, and the place is so beautiful, I can’t imagine a better venue for our reception.

Will’s hand is in mine, and neither of us can stop smiling. My friends swarm me, Anna, Elizabeth, and Naomi all in their bridesmaid dresses, chattering about how beautiful the ceremony was. It feels like a fairytale. I don’t have time to talk long. I’m swept into the reception line with Will, and there are so many people that I can barely register all their faces. I’m mostly aware of Will’s hand on my waist, of when he looks down at me and smiles, of when his hand brushes mine sending electric sparks along my skin.

Mr. Herrington Sr. comes through the reception line. We’ve met once before, and it’s clear he was hoping that his son would marry someone a little more high class. He’s not the friendliest person, but I have a feeling that I can win him over with time. I’ve got plenty of it, he and the family are stuck with me now. But Will’s sister and I are practically best friends, and I couldn’t ask for a better sister-in-law.

When the long line of people finally ends, Will escorts me to our table. “I’m starving.”

“Me too. Let me grab us some food. It’ll be faster since I’m not the one in the giant dress.”

I laugh. “Kind of you.”

He kisses me on the forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

It feels so good to sit down. No one tells you how just how exhausting your own wedding can be. My mom, who’s seated at a table right in front of me waves to get my attention, then she points to the door. There, standing at the door, is Laura. I sent her an invitation, but I didn’t expect her to come. I gesture for my mother to bring her over to the corner of the room. I haven’t spoken to Laura since her engagement party, and if there’s going to be a scene I don’t want it to be in the middle of the ballroom. She looks down as I approach.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” she says. “I hope it’s okay that I’m here.”

“I did invite you.”

Her hands are twisting together, like she’s nervous. “I’m not with Wyatt anymore,” she says. “He left. Someone new, I guess.”

I reach out and put my hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be,” she says, “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I was an ass. I was so caught up in what I thought was love that I couldn’t see what an idiot he was or what a terrible sister I was. I’m sorry that I had any part in hurting you like that.”

“Thank you,” I say. “But I’m okay. Really. Obviously,” I grin. “Try to think of this as a lesson learned and a bullet dodged that you’re not with that asshole.”

“God, he really was, wasn’t he?”

We both laugh, and for the first time she meets my eyes. “I’ve missed you.” I pull her in for a hug. “I’m glad you came. Try to have fun. Try to forget for a little bit, okay?”

“Okay,” she says.

I glance back and see that Will has our food. “I’m going to go because I’m starving, but I’ll see you on the dance floor in a little while.”

The food is delicious, and it feels like everything is playing in fast forward. We cut the cake and I manage to get a little bit of frosting on Will’s nose before he catches my wrist. I throw my bouquet, dance with Will and my father, and then my mother and my sister. Then it’s dark outside and I’m starting to fade.

Will appears behind me, pulling me back against him. “Want to get out of here?” he asks.

“Yes please,” and just like that, all of my tiredness is gone. Even in the months that we’ve been together, our hunger for each other hasn’t faded. Will looks damn good

in his tuxedo, and I’d make him wear it forever if I didn’t know what was underneath that tux.

“Do we make an announcement, or just disappear?”

“If we make an announcement,” I say, “there will be another half hour of goodbyes.”

He nods. “That’s a good point.”

“And I know you can’t want to see what’s underneath this.” I’ve been teasing him for weeks about my wedding lingerie—a confection of silk and lace and a corset that make my boobs look twice as big and my waist twice as small.

“No announcement it is.” He grabs my hand and tugs me through the doors of the ballroom before anyone has a chance to notice. We run like maniacs across the lobby of the hotel, laughing, my dress flying behind us. We slip into an open elevator, and Will presses the button before he kisses me. Just like the last time we were here, we fog the mirrors.

The room we walk into has walls of windows, and a giant bed, and a table… “Is this the room?”

Will grins a little sheepishly. “I thought it would be fun to revisit it, since it was technically our first wedding night. The second wedding night should be here too.”

I laugh. “That’s oddly sweet.”

“Now let me help you out of that dress.”

I turn, and he starts to work on the many small pearl buttons that line my back. Little by little the dress loosens, and then collapses into a giant pile of white silk. I step out of it and turn to face Will where he’s frozen in place, staring at me. I have sparkly heels on. The corset is attached to lacy garters and stockings, and just like he prefers, I’m not wearing any panties. “Worth the wait?”

“Hell yes,” he says, shrugging out of his suit jacket and then his shirt. “You know what else today means,” he says.

I shiver with anticipation, “Yes.”

We agreed that after the public marriage, we’d start to go without condoms. I haven’t forgotten the way he felt in that shed, the skin-on-skin friction delicious in an entirely different way.

Las Vegas is laid out in front of us and it’s beautiful. I didn’t get to enjoy the view last time. This time I’m totally sober. I look back and find Will on his knees. He presses me back into the window, spreading my legs and licking into me. “If I had known you were wearing this without any panties we would have left a lot sooner,” he says between licks on my clit. I can’t respond. He knows exactly what I like, and how to make me come, or hold me on the edge.

I melt into the glass of the window, feeling vertigo from the pleasure and the fact that there’s nothing but air behind me. His tongue is magic, working me in circles until I’m panting, forcing my hips closer to his mouth, but he doesn’t let me come. He strips the rest of his clothing off and stands. “Not yet, I want Las Vegas to see my filthy, slutty wife.” The smile on his face is nothing but love and mischief. Hands on my waist, he turns me to face the window and places my hands against it. “Now everyone can see if they look up.”

He doesn’t give me a warning as he thrusts inside in one long stroke, and I cry out. It’s just like I remember, the feeling of him with nothing between us. A gush of wetness and even more arousal runs down my legs and Will groans. “You’re so fucking hot.”

My lips are pressed to the window, and the heat of his body contrasted with the cold of the glass makes my head spin. He doesn’t stop pounding into me with a need that is pure desire and fury. I don’t want him to stop, I want more, and that’s what I tell him. I ask him for everything, and every slick thrust sends me closer. His fingers are digging into my hips, pulling me against him even as he plunges deep, and I’m so close, almost there.

Will stiffens, his body going rigid as he comes. Warmth fills me as he comes and it’s all I need. I fall over the edge, and I feel like I’m falling off of this building and into a cloud of sheer pleasure. I’m shaking with it, gasping. There aren’t any words to describe it except yes and more and please.

His cock jerks inside me as he comes, filling me for the first time. Even though we’ve been together like this for so long, there’s something about it that feels even closer. He’s a part of me now and I’m a part of him. Will pulls me away from the window and carries me to the bed. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I say, closing my eyes.

There’s a soft chuckle and I feel his lips on the skin above my breasts. “Are you going to sleep?”

“It’s been a long day,” I admit.

He nods. “But what kind of husband would I be if I didn’t pleasure you your entire wedding night?” He draws a finger down my corset. “Especially when I have so much more unwrapping of you to do.”

“Hmm,” I make a faux noncommittal sound, as if I would ever turn down a night entirely revolving around my pleasure. “I’m afraid, dear husband, that you’ll have to make it very worth my while.”

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Herrington, I will.”

THE END

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Chapter 1

Fire truck lights dance on the walls of neighbors’ homes. Embers glow beneath the ash, and there’s a crowd surrounding the burned heap that was my home. Smoke still wafts in the air even though the flames are out. Can a fire really destroy an entire house that quickly?

I get out of my car, forgetting to put it in park. It rolls and hits a row of garbage cans before coming to a stop. I don’t even care at this point. My mouth flops open, fists clutching my hair, and I can barely breathe. The air reeks of burned wood and I want to throw up.

“What the hell happened?” I say to one of the firemen coming from the scene. He won’t let me come any closer even though it’s my property.

“Is this your home?” he asks.

I want to scream at him. Can’t he tell by the look on my face that I’m not just a curious bystander? I’m wrecked and it shows.

Instead of snapping at him like I want to, I just say, “Yes.”

“Looks like the origin of the fire came from a toaster oven left plugged into the wall.”

I swallow hard, tasting bile. My stomach twists, on fire, just like my house. It feels like the acid might burn right through the lining.

I nod, unable to speak, as if I were answering a question. Did he ask a question? I can’t remember. I can barely think straight.

My neighbors keep glancing at me as they retreat back to their cozy, still-standing homes. Some offer words of sympathy on their way. Some glare at me because I put their homes in jeopardy with my negligence. I would glare back at them if my face would allow it. Instead, I just stare at the destroyed remains of a dream now gone.

As the last fireman leaves, he says, “Might want to get ahold of your insurance company.”

Again I nod, and I get on the phone. But I don’t call the insurance company. I call my best friend.

“Alba?” I say weakly when she answers.

“What’s wrong?” she says, immediately hearing the shock in my voice. In the background there’s a riot of noise. She has a huge family and they all live in one little house.

“My house burned down.”

She makes a loud gasping sound. There are footsteps on the other end of the line and the sound of a door closing. Suddenly the background noise is just a soft mumble and I know she went into a different room to talk. I tell her everything that happened, about my stupid mistake leaving the toaster oven plugged in.

“Do you have money for a motel?” she asks.

She doesn’t offer to let me stay with her. I wouldn’t expect it anyway. There’s just no room. It’s not her house, so it’s not her place to invite me. Alba always escaped to my house when she needed quiet time. She won’t have that anymore.

>   I’m sure her parents would let me stay if they knew my situation. I could sleep on her floor. But I’m not about to ask for that favor. It’s stressful enough for everyone already living there. I don’t think I could handle all the noise anyway. I don’t need any more chaos in my life, and chaos is exactly what I’d be in for if I went to Alba’s house tonight.

“Yes,” I lie. I don’t have money for a motel. Not a single penny. I had just enough money for groceries and gas to get me by until I get paid, which isn’t for another week. I’ll have to sleep in my car tonight and figure out what to do about my future tomorrow. I’m sure after I talk to my insurance company they’ll cut me a check and I can get into something temporarily. It will all work out in the end. I have to believe that or I will completely drown in my sorrow.

“Meet me at the diner. I’ll get you a piece of pie and we can talk,” she says.

Her family owns a greasy spoon downtown. It’s a hole in the wall in a sketchy neighborhood, but the food is to die for. Normally, I’d be all over the offer of pie. Especially the peach cobbler. But right now my stomach is too sour to hold anything down, and I know if I start talking, I’ll break down. I don’t want to cry in a diner full of people.

“I’ll take a raincheck on that, okay? I need to get to the motel and check in for the night.”

There’s a long pause on the other end, and I know she wants to protest, but she doesn’t and I’m grateful for it.

“All right. Call me if you need me.”

“I will, Alba. Thank you.”

I hang up and look at my car still parked among a pile of overturned trashcans. I drag myself over to it. I guess still having a car is a small bit of luck. If I had walked to the store like I sometimes do, it might’ve burned up with the house and I would be left with nothing. I guess I should be thankful, but instead I feel like shit.

I drive around all night looking for a place I will feel safe enough to park for the night. At first I try in the mall parking lot, but a security officer kicks me out. Then I go to the park and I’m told to leave by the ranger. I decide to go to work instead. I have a parking pass that will allow me to stay overnight without the risk of being towed away. The kid they hired for the security night shift is a nephew of the store owner and just sits in the back of the building smoking weed instead of actually patrolling. I just hope none of my co-workers see me in the morning.