The Billionaire's Temporary Bride (Scandal, Inc #3)(39)
It wasn't fair.
If she felt anything like what he felt, it wasn't fair for him to do this. Charlotte deserved so much more than a fake marriage to a man who couldn't open up to her. He had promised not to lie to her, but there were things he could never tell her at all, especially about his family. She deserved a man who could devote his life to her, fully and with nothing to hide. He knew he could never be that man. That wouldn't stop him from trying, though.
A few days after they returned from the trip to her parents' house, Charlotte had moved in with Jack for real. His bedroom had taken on a completely different look. Charlotte had her drawers next to the bed, her closet full of clothes and her countertop full of makeup, perfume and everything else that women shroud themselves in before heading out into the world.
The first night, they had discussed what would be the best bedroom situation, but neither seemed willing to suggest separate rooms. They had been sleeping in the same bed ever since.
Charlotte was flawless when she was all made up. The wardrobe she and Callie had put together only added to her beauty, but Jack preferred the way she looked in the morning, right after waking up, when he could clearly see the tiny freckles on her nose and the slight wave to her hair as Charlotte drowsed in and out of sleep. Whenever he woke before her, he marveled at how she smiled while she slept, not a big, toothy grin or anything like that, just a little upturn at the corner of her mouth and the hint of a dimple on her cheek. He almost hated to wake her only to see her cover up her natural beauty with makeup as she took on her role as his fake fiancée for another day.
At all the parties and events, no one ever questioned their story. It just seemed natural that Jack would fall head over heels for someone as stylish and savvy as Charlotte. On that point everyone agreed. His friends liked to joke that they couldn't understand why she would have fallen for someone like him, but Jack could tell that they were envious. If only they knew that they envied a lie.
In the weeks after moving into his place, Charlotte had really grown into her public role. Her voice grew stronger in public engagements and she held herself with a dignity and grace that made Jack look better by association. Early public opinion was overwhelmingly positive. Everyone loved Jack Coburn's redheaded better half.
She was great at pretending to care about the inane chattering of political power brokers, but Jack liked Charlotte best when she was just herself, during the quiet moments when she teased him about his suits or had her nose pressed firmly into some book, laughing at the back and forth between two characters in Austen or Bront? or whoever she was rereading. Each day, however, she spent less time reading, and more time preparing for events, learning names and faces, playing the part of the doting fiancée…
In short, she was wonderful, and he was ruining her. He didn't want to turn her into the polished, calculating, political spouse everyone else thought she could be. He didn't want to use her anymore. He didn't want to hurt her. Jack had known for some time that she'd need to meet his family, and he knew that as soon as she met them, he would lose control of how she saw him. She would see their selfishness and arrogance reflected in him, and she'd hate what she saw. As November wore on and the temperatures plummeted, he knew he'd soon have to head home and introduce her. He just feared what would happen when he did.
Charlotte's family had been so warm and kind. They were the type of family — close-knit, loving, devoted — that he had never had. He loved his parents and his siblings, but no one had ever accused them of being paragons of family life. Especially since his father's death, they had turned against each other and against Jack in particular. He worried what Charlotte would think when she met them. Would they find some way to poison her against him? Would they lash out at her? It had been almost seven years since his father had passed away and still his siblings hadn't gotten over the fact that Jack had been named executor of the will.
It hadn't been Jack's idea. He would have much rather handed everything over to the family's attorney, who, frankly, was much more experienced in trust management. His siblings took it as a sign of disrespect that Jack, the youngest, should be in control of the vast sums of money their father left behind for him, snubbing them.
Of course, none of his siblings had the legal or financial expertise to execute a will or the real desire to do so. His siblings were nothing if not opportunistic. Like so many trust-fund kids and fortunate sons he knew, they took every opportunity to feel slighted, cheated and victimized as they cashed their checks and wasted their lives.
Jack knew he should feel sorry for them, but he didn't. While they were off traveling Europe or sailing around the Caribbean, he had been attending law school, running for Congress, and doing everything within his power to keep his family and their prestigious name from falling to ruin. His siblings were quick to bask in the recognition of having a brother in Congress, but they wouldn't lift a finger to do any work themselves.
He hated the way his heart seemed to switch off and some deeper furnace of frustration and anger took over whenever he went home, but they just had some way of bringing the worst out of him and themselves. Jack wanted to protect Charlotte from seeing any of this to keep her pure and untarnished by whatever disease had driven his family to become the way they were.
As December drew closer, however, Jack knew he had no choice. He had to bring Charlotte to meet his family. She had pressed him for weeks for information, believing, rightly, that it wasn't fair for him to spend a weekend with her parents when she hadn't so much as spoken to any one of his family members.