Hitched(59)

“He’s clearly after your inheritance, Hope,” he sneers in a way that makes me want to punch him. Or maybe beat him with Dildo Shaggins, because I get the feeling he’d find that way more insulting than a simple punch. “Don’t be a fool,” he continues. “Men like this are always looking for a reason not to put in an honest day’s work, and you’ve fallen right into his trap.”

The punching-urge grows stronger, but I force my hand to remain still and loose by my side.

I will not punch my wife’s father, no matter how much he deserves it. I was raised better, and if there’s even the ghost of a chance we might all be able to get along, I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.

For her sake, not his.

“So which is it, Dad?” Hope lets out a humorless laugh. “Am I a criminal who’s so pathetic and unlovable I had to buy myself a husband? Or a fool who’s fallen into a golddigger’s trap? Tell me quick so I can go find my missing alpaca.”

“Please, Hope, don’t be so dramatic,” her mother says with a disdainful sniff. “You’ve made a mistake, and we’re here to clean up your mess before it gets any worse. Let’s leave it at that.”

“I won’t leave it at that,” Hope says, her voice thick with emotion. “And I’m not leaving Blake, not unless he asks me to. I want to make this marriage work, even though I’m scared to death I won’t be good enough for him.”

I hug her closer. I want to tell her that she’s far too good for me. And I will, but not in front of her parents. They don’t get to see any more of our private life. They’ve proven they don’t deserve that kind of access.

Her mother’s eyes narrow. “Then so be it. But don’t come to us for help when you find yourself in the middle of a legal battle you can’t afford.”

“Or end up losing half your inheritance to a man who married you for money,” her father adds. “Because he’ll want his half before he grants you a divorce, girl. You can be absolutely sure of that.”

“Can I?” Hope asks, anger flickering to life in the words. “Because he didn’t ask for a dime the first time we got an annulment four years ago.”

I stiffen—shocked to hear her say it aloud—but when she looks up at me, I nod.

Hell yes, let’s tell the truth. Finally. I’m tired of keeping secrets and pretending I haven’t wanted to be with her for a hell of a lot longer than the past few days.

“We got married in Vegas four years ago,” Hope continues, her gobsmacked parents keeping their mouths shut for once. “But we had it annulled because we were young and…” She trails off, taking a deep breath before she continues, “No. That’s not the truth. We got an annulment because I was scared of marriage. But I was never scared of Blake. Not a single day in my entire life. He makes me happy.” Her voice breaks, but she keeps going. “He makes me feel beautiful and special. Like I’m someone worth fighting for, and I want to make him feel the same way.”

Before I can assure her that she makes me feel that and so much more, Clint shouts from the porch, “He’s an ugly bastard in comparison, Hope, but he’s crazy about you. We’ve all known it for years.”

“And we’re here for you guys!” Cassie calls.

“No matter how full of shit you are,” Jace adds.

“This is just a bump in the road on the way to all the beauty waiting in your future,” Olivia says before adding in a more plaintive voice, “and it’s never too late to make a change for the better. Love is always there, just waiting for you to say yes.”

The words are clearly aimed at the St. Claires, but her lovely sentiment bounces off their anger shields and falls to the ground.

“And I’m tired of wasting time on pointless discussions when we’ve got an animal to save,” Clint adds. He’s got his Marine face on now. “Either join the search or remove yourselves from the property.”

The St. Claires’ eyes go wide.

“He’s right,” Hope says softly. “I think you should leave.”

“Agreed,” I say from beside her, where I intend to stay for a very, very long time, no matter what her parents or anyone else has to say about it.

A chitter of what sounds like agreement sounds from the other side of the fence, where Too-Pac is grazing in the pasture, looking as forlorn as I’ve ever seen an animal to be without his buddy. A moment later George Cooney drops onto the grass on our side and waddles across the parking lot wearing a familiar hat. When he spots Hope’s parents, he erupts in raccoon conversation again.

Her mother looks at me. Then Hope. Then the trash panda, who plops onto his back and rudely scratches his undercarriage with something silver he has clutched in one claw, a challenging gleam in his eye. She huffs in disgust, circles her hand in “let’s wrap this up” gesture, and stomps off to the Acura parked beside the house, the lawyer and Hope’s father following in her wake.

They don’t even say goodbye.

Or toss a parting shot over their shoulders.

They’re just…done with their daughter.

Just like that.

And good fucking riddance because they don’t come close to deserving her.

“I can’t say how this will play out in a court of law,” Tweedle says in a hushed voice. “But I think you two are a darling couple.” He glances furtively over his shoulder before turning back to me with an intense, grin-free expression. “Love her, son. And don’t ever let her go. There’s nothing soft waiting to catch her, if you get my drift.”