“Why don’t you come with us to the picnic?” Hunter asked Knox as they walked toward the barn.
“I’m not much of a picnic kind of guy, brother.”
“Neither am I,” Hunter agreed. “But just wait until you have your own little girl one day. You’ll find yourself doing all kinds of things you never thought you would do, just to put a smile on her face.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Knox said noncommittally. Not surprising, his brothers had all begun to ask him about when he was going to start a family with Genevieve. None of them could know that he had agreed to a platonic marriage with his sexy wife. None of them could know how frustrating it was to answer the baby question over and over again when he knew the truth—he hadn’t consummated his marriage!
“It could happen sooner than you think,” Hunter mused aloud.
They rounded the corner and spotted Wren with Genevieve. Knox had noticed how frequently he found Wren tagging along after Genevieve in the barn and he didn’t like it. One day soon Genevieve was going to be gone and that little girl was going to get hurt. Wren didn’t deserve that. And, deep down, he knew it would be his fault.
“I don’t think it’s such a good idea for Wren to be getting so attached to Genevieve.” Knox spoke the words he had been thinking aloud.
Hunter’s surprised expression made Knox regret having giving voice to his concern.
“Why not?” his brother asked. “She’s your wife. I would think she’s the perfect person for Wren to attach herself to. Why would you say that?”
It took Knox a split second to figure out what he could say to backtrack. “This thing with Genevieve and me is still new. Nothing is guaranteed in this life.”
Hunter, who had always been the brother that seemed to have the best advice, clapped him on the shoulder. “You guys are going to make it, Knox. Everyone in the family can see that she’s in love with you. A woman can’t fake that.”
A woman couldn’t fake that? His wife had been faking it the whole time! Was Genevieve that good of an actress or was his family just that naive and blind? Genevieve didn’t love him. In fact, hadn’t she been the one who said she wouldn’t have even dated him if he had asked?
“Are you ready, Wren?” Hunter asked his daughter who was watching Genevieve trim one of the horse’s hooves.
Wren spun around at the sound of her father’s voice, ran toward him and then leaped up into his arms for a hug.
“Can Genevieve come with us?”
Knox’s throat tightened uncomfortably to stop himself from saying no. His attempt to keep Wren and Genevieve apart was failing miserably.
“If she wants.” Hunter kept his arms around his daughter’s shoulders. “Are you up for a back-to-school picnic, Genevieve?”
“Genevieve might have more horses to trim, Wren,” Knox interjected quickly.
“Nope.” His wife shook her head. “This was the last for today. Besides, I haven’t eaten lunch and there’s always really good food at picnics.”
“I’m trying to convince Knox to go with us.” Hunter looked at him. “Viv Shuster is still hard at work trying to get the last three Crawford bachelors married off. I’m telling you, a woman hurled herself at me at the feed store the other day.”
“I was there and hurled is a pretty big exaggeration of the facts,” Knox interjected.
“She hurled herself at me. She had the first button of my shirt undone before I knew what was happening! Thank goodness Wren wasn’t with me.” Hunter assured Genevieve. “I need a bodyguard.”
Genevieve laughed. “A single father is pretty powerful catnip.”
“See?” His brother nodded his head toward Genevieve. “She gets it. How can you abandon me in my time of need, Knox? I need someone I can trust to run interference for me.”
“Come on, Uncle Knox.” Wren turned that sweet smile on him. “It’ll be fun.”
“Why did you agree to go to this picnic?” Knox asked her as he opened the passenger door to his truck for her. “I thought we were trying to keep a low profile.”
“It would be weird if we were reclusive all the time, right? If we want to silence our critics—of which there are many—trust me, just look at my social media! Then we’ve got to put on a show every now and again. Besides,” Genevieve added as she swept her hair into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, “I’m hungry.”
“You didn’t have to rope me into going to this picnic just to get a hot dog on a stick, Gen.”
Knox’s tone caught her attention. She looked at his profile, his unsmiling lips, and tried to figure out what was going on with her husband. The first week of their marriage had gone more smoothly than either of them could have expected. But the second week had been a bit rocky, starting with Knox’s reaction to his father’s expectation that they would attend the weekly family dinners together at the main house. It seemed that whenever she did her part of convincing their friends and family that they were a real and legitimate couple, the more irritated Knox became. Genevieve would have thought that he would be excited that they were pulling off the impossible. Instead, he was getting grumpier by the day.
“You know what, Knox?” Genevieve said, her tone sugary sweet and laced heavily with sarcasm. “Maybe this picnic will be just the thing that will help you turn that frown upside down. We’ll get you a balloon and have your face painted. And if you’re a really good boy, we’ll get you some cotton candy!”
He just harrumphed.
Realizing that Knox was determined to stay in a bad mood, Genevieve ignored her husband for the rest of the short ride to Rust Creek Falls Park. When they pulled up to the already-crowded picnic, her husband still had that ridiculous scowl on his handsome face.
“Hey,” she said, a hint of irritation creeping into her tone. “Put your game face on, cowboy. It’s showtime.”
Knox looked over at her as he unclipped his seat belt and her words must have at least resonated a bit because his features softened. He wasn’t smiling but at least he didn’t look like a man who was itching to pick a fight.
Genevieve met him in front of the truck and slipped her hand into his. This would be their first official town event that they attended as a couple and she was determined to give the whole town a show they wouldn’t soon forget. By the time they left the picnic, the doubters and the haters would be silenced. But only if Knox cooperated!
“Lean down and kiss me,” she said with a sunny smile plastered on her face.
Knox obliged but the kiss was flat and felt more like a platonic peck from a distant relative. She wanted to kick him—really kick him hard—but instead, she tossed her head back and laughed as if he had said something amazingly funny and held on to his arm like a woman who wanted to let every other female within fifty paces know that Knox was hers.
“Aunt Gen! Uncle Knox!” Wren raced toward them through the throng of people.
Was it her imagination or had Knox stiffened next to her when his niece had called her aunt?
“Hi, sweet pea.” Her husband always had warmth in his eyes and a smile on his lips for his slight, fair-haired niece. “What do you want to do first?”
“I want to get my face painted.” Wren began to count on her fingers. “I want to go on the Ferris wheel, ride on the bumper cars and go in the bouncy house.”
“And consume copious amounts of sugar,” Hunter added as he joined them. “I can’t thank you guys enough for coming. Walking through that crowd was like navigating my way through a deadly gauntlet.”
Hunter lowered his voice so Wren wouldn’t hear his next words. “Remember the woman from the feed store I was just telling you about? She’s here selling cotton candy. I’m terrified she’s going to spot me!”
“We’ll protect you, Hunter.” Genevieve smiled at her brother-in-law. She liked Hunter; he was a nice man and a wonderful, doting father. In fact, she was beginning to warm up to all of Knox’s brothers. She had never thought about what it was going to feel like to walk away from the Crawford family once this sham marriage ended. In her heart, she knew now that it was going to hurt. When she went to California, a piece of her was going to be left behind at the Ambling A.
Holding on to Knox’s arm, Genevieve could feel so many eyes on them as they wound their way through the picnic crowd toward the face-painting booth. By the time they made it there, they had been inundated with congratulations, kisses and hugs from the townsfolk. There were also some people who greeted them with sour expressions and their congratulations rang hollow; some of them were no doubt the anonymous people on social media who had accused her of being a gold digger or pregnant. Genevieve’s head was spinning from all of the attention and, when she finally had a chance to look up at Knox’s face, she saw that he was scowling again.
“Smile.” She squeezed his arm. “You look miserable.”
Knox forced a smile while she waited in line with Wren to get their faces painted. Her husband’s demeanor and attitude at the picnic was really starting to get under her skin. As far as she could tell, she was working overtime trying to convince everyone that their marriage was legit, while he was busy undermining all of her effort.
“What are you going to get?” Wren asked her excitedly while they waited for their turn.
“Hmm,” she mused aloud. “I think I’ll get a unicorn.”
“Me too! I’ll get a unicorn too!”
When they returned to Hunter and Knox, Genevieve and Wren had matching unicorns on the right cheeks of their faces. Hunter swept his daughter up into his arms and admired her face. “That’s a mighty pretty unicorn for a mighty pretty little girl.”
Wren giggled happily in her father’s arms while Knox examined Genevieve in a strange way that made her neck suddenly feel hot. But before she could ask him why he was looking at her in such an odd way, schoolteachers Paige Traub and Marina Dalton, and Josselyn Strickland, the school librarian, joined their small group.
“Genevieve!” Paige hugged her tightly. “We’re so happy to see you here! We’ve been meaning to get in touch with you to say congratulations, haven’t we, Marina?”
Marina was the next to hug her. “We have! But you know how the beginning of school year is for us. We’ve been so swamped.”
After congratulating them on their marriage, Marina and Josselyn were quick to make a big fuss over Wren. It could be tough for a child to go to a new school, but Wren seemed to have taken a liking to her teacher and she was beginning to make some friends.
“Oh, Hunter,” Josselyn said. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. Is it true that your family found an old diary in the floorboards at the Ambling A?”
“It’s true,” Hunter said. “Found it when we were refurbishing the wood floors.”
“I just love Rust Creek Falls history and folklore.” Josselyn’s eyes lit up with the news. “I would love to see it.”
“What’s this about?” Genevieve hadn’t heard anything about a diary.
“We found this jewel-encrusted diary in the floorboards of the main house,” Knox explained. “It’s got to be at least sixty or seventy years old.”
“Fantastic.” Josselyn clasped her hands together. “Is there a name?”
“We’re assuming it was written by one of the Abernathys, the previous owners of the Ambling A. We searched on the internet for information on the family, but that was a dry well. Xander did manage to open the diary with a screwdriver and found some love letters written by someone with the initial W. Other than that, we’ve still got a lot of missing holes in that story.”
“An unsolved mystery.” Genevieve rubbed the palms of her hands together with a smile. “How can we figure this out, Josselyn?”
“Well,” the librarian drawled, her brow wrinkled in thought, “if I were the one looking, I would go straight to the Rust Creek Falls Gazette. The town newspaper will have a cache of historical records that can’t be found on the internet.”
“We’ll have to try that, Josselyn.” Hunter smiled his gratitude. “Thank you for the tip.”
“Oh, you are so welcome. Please, please, please keep me in the loop. I am just dying to know more about this diary!”
After the face painting, Genevieve insisted on heading straight for the area where the food vendors were selling their wares. Three corn dogs and a large cola later, she was beginning to feel full. But she left a small amount of room for some homemade pie. What would a picnic be without a piece of pie?
“Are you sure three corn dogs were enough? Why not go for four?” Knox was sitting across from her with a genuine smile in his eyes. It was the first she had seen during their time at the picnic.
“I thought you liked a woman with a healthy appetite?” she teased him.
“I do.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. “I never cottoned to women who picked at their food like chickens pecking at seed on the ground.”
It was moments like these that made Genevieve glad that she had agreed to Knox’s crazy scheme—when her husband, so handsome and rugged, was smiling at her in a way that made her feel like she was truly appreciated for who she was. Instinctively, she reached across the table and squeezed his hand.
“I like it when you smile at me, Knox.”
This entire fake marriage had blurred so many lines that it was difficult to know when they were being real with each other and when they were just putting on a show. This time, her words weren’t for anyone other than Knox and she hoped he knew that.
“Welcome, everyone, to the Back to School Picnic!”
Genevieve’s attention was drawn away from her husband to Mayor Collin Traub who had just stepped behind the microphone on the main stage.
“That man dearly loves a microphone.” She laughed. The Traubs and the Lawrences had been friends for years and years. In fact, she kept her horse, Spartacus, out at the Traubs’ Triple T Ranch.
The mayor made several announcements, including some raffle ticket winners. Then Collin seemed to be scanning the crowd for something, or someone, and when his eyes landed on her, Genevieve realized that she was the someone the mayor had been looking for.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have some newlyweds with us today!” Collin said loudly into the microphone. “Come on up here, Knox and Genevieve!”
“Damn it!” Knox cursed under his breath but loudly enough for people sitting around them at the other picnic tables to overhear. “If I have to hear one more person tell me congratulations!”
With a smile plastered on her face, Genevieve kicked her husband under the table. She stood up quickly, acutely aware of the stares they were drawing, and grabbed Knox’s hand. She was relieved when he stood up, held on to her hand and led her through the crowd toward the stage. Once on stage, Knox stood stiff as petrified wood next to her with an equally stiff, unconvincing smile on his face. He looked like a hostage and she couldn’t do anything about it. Instead, she kept right on smiling and waving to the crowd. She leaned her head on Knox’s shoulder several times for effect and gazed up at him adoringly.
“Congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Knox Crawford!” the mayor announced and led the crowd in loud clapping.
“Kiss her, man!” someone in the crowd called out and others followed.
Without a moment’s notice, Knox hooked his arm around her, drew her into his body, bent her back over his arm and kissed her like he’d never kissed her before. The kiss was deep, and long, and as his tongue danced across hers, the sound of catcalls from the crowd faded into the background and the only sound she could hear was the sound of her own beating heart.
Genevieve wasn’t speaking to him and he couldn’t muster the strength to care. Soon after being forced up on stage in front of the entire town, Knox insisted that they leave the picnic. All the way home, his wife was giving him the silent treatment and it was for the best. Yes, this whole scheme had been his idea, but now he was convinced it was the worst idea he’d ever had in his life. And for that, he had no one else to blame other than himself. This was his fault.
When they got home, Knox couldn’t help it. His eyes touched on every pile of paper, every shoe left near the door, everything that was out of place, because he had brought Genevieve into his home. “Why do you have to leave your bra on the couch, Gen?”
“Really?” Genevieve looked at him like she was looking at a misbehaving toddler in a grocery store. “That’s your big problem? Your sensibilities are offended by my bra on your couch?”
“No.” He took off his cowboy hat and slammed it down on the kitchen counter. “My sensibilities are offended when you walk around here without your bra on!”
Genevieve stared at him for a second and then laughed. “I live here, Knox. Every now and then you’re going to accidentally see me crossing the hall to the bathroom in, God forbid, my underwear.”
He leaned back against the counter, his eyes stormy, his arms crossed in front of his body. “You prance around here in your underwear and your tank top and what, I’m not supposed to notice?”
Genevieve rolled her eyes. “Get over it! I’m not going to wear a muumuu to go to the bathroom. Besides,” she said, waving her hands at his chest, “you walk around here without your shirt on all the time. You don’t see me having a cow about it, do you?”
“That’s not the same thing,” Knox said, rubbing his neck which was sore from restless nights spent out on the couch.
“So says you,” she retorted.
There was a moment of silence between them and then Knox said quietly, seriously, “This isn’t working for me anymore.”
He hated to see the flash of hurt and confusion that he saw on Genevieve’s pretty face. “If that’s how you feel, then let’s get an annulment.”
That very thought had crossed his mind but when the words came out of Genevieve’s mouth Knox knew it wasn’t what he really wanted. He didn’t want an annulment; he wanted more of his wife, not less.
“I don’t want an annulment,” he said, honestly.
“Then what do you want, Knox? Are you so much like your father that you can’t be happy when you actually get what you want? The whole town thinks we’re really and truly married!” And then she added, “No thanks to you.”
Knox pushed his hands into his jeans pockets to keep from hauling Genevieve into his arms. What would she say when he told her the truth? What would she do when she found out that he couldn’t go on wanting her, needing her, dreaming of making love to her? He was completely eaten up with desire for his wife—a woman he had promised not to touch. Knox knew, one way or another, something had to change between them.
“Tell me, Knox.” Genevieve walked over to stand in front of him. “What do you want?”
Knox’s eyes focused on the softness of Gen’s lips and the honeysuckle scent of her wispy blond hair. He didn’t have any words for her; he could only show her.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Not a kiss for show—this was a kiss that was all about them. His arms tightened around her slender body as he deepened the kiss, encouraged by the fact that his wife had melted in his arms. Knox kissed a trail from his lips to her neck.
“I want you,” he whispered harshly. “I want this.”
“I want you too, Knox.”
Surprise mixed with relief registered on his handsome face. “Are you sure, Gen?”
She locked gazes with him so he could see how serious she was. “I’m sure.” She slowly unbuttoned one button on his shirt. “Now...in keeping with our tradition, I dare you to take me, Knox.”
“You dare me?” A playful glint flashed in his dark eyes.
“I dare you.”
“Be careful who you’re daring, Gen,” Knox echoed her own words that seemed so far in their past. “You’ll be my wife in every way a woman can be a wife before the sun goes down.”
Genevieve unbuttoned a second button. “That doesn’t scare me, Knox. Does it scare you?”
“Nothing scares me, Mrs. Crawford.” Knox swung her up into his arms as he had on their wedding day and carried her across the threshold of his bedroom. “You should know that by now.”
Knox carried his bride into the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind them. She was light in his arms; the sweet smell of his hair intoxicating to his senses, and the curve of her breast pressed into his body, were tantalizing reminders of all good things to come. Genevieve dropped little, butterfly kisses on his neck as he lowered her down to the mattress. He loved the feel of her lips on his skin and could only imagine what it would feel like to have her kiss him in other, more private parts of his body.
His wife smiled up at him welcomingly, letting him know that this moment was what they both wanted. Knox shut the blinds, darkening the room, before he quickly unbuttoned and shrugged out of his shirt. Genevieve knelt on the edge of the bed, hooked her finger into his bell loop, and pulled him toward her.
“I think this moment was inevitable.” She unsnapped his pants.
He knew that he was looking at her like a hungry lion looks at its prey as her hand lingered at his groin.
“Don’t you?” she asked, her fingers sliding the zipper down.
Genevieve slipped her hand inside of his underwear and wrapped her fingers around him. Knox closed his eyes, his head tilted back, and groaned at the feel of his wife’s cool fingers touching his hot skin. This moment, played out so many times in his head, was so much better than his imagination had conjured.
Knox opened his eyes and looked down at his wife’s lovely face; there was an impish, teasing expression in her cornflower blue eyes. He quickly disrobed. He wanted her to see all of him, to touch all of him.
The expression on her face told him all he wanted to know—she wasn’t disappointed. His wife ran her hands over his chest, down his stomach and back to his hard shaft.
“Hmm,” she said with a sexy smile in her voice. “You are handsome, cowboy.”
Unable to wait a moment longer to see her naked, Knox lifted Genevieve so she was standing on the bed in front of him. He rid her of her shirt and her bra, a routine he had perfected over the years. But, this time it was different. This time it was his lovely Genevieve.
Those nipples, so taut and rosy, were too tempting to ignore. Knox took one into his mouth, suckled it lightly, while his large hand covered the other breast, massaging it gently. He was rewarded with a sensual gasp as Genevieve raked her fingers through his hair.
“My beautiful wife,” Knox murmured against her body.
Her fingers still buried in his hair, Knox quickly unzipped her jeans and pushed them down over her hips. He couldn’t wait to slip his hand inside of her simple white cotton panties to cup her. Genevieve arched her back and pressed herself down into his hand begging him to slide his fingers into her slick, tight warmth.
“Don’t wait.” Genevieve’s fingernails were digging into his shoulders as she held on to him. “Please, don’t wait.”
It was clear that she wanted him to be inside of her as much as he did. Knox stripped her jeans and panties from her body and tossed them on the floor. Genevieve was waiting for him, her hair spread out on the pillows, her arms open to welcome him. Knox grabbed a condom from the nightstand, rolled it on, and then rolled into her arms.
“Yes, my beauty,” Knox said, watching the expression of pure pleasure on her face as he joined their bodies together.
Knox buried his face into her neck and he buried himself more deeply into her body. Theirs was a rhythm of two like-minded souls—two pieces from the same puzzle—working in natural harmony. They didn’t need to “figure each other out.” They just knew how to move together.
Genevieve clung to him, her fingers flexing on his biceps, her breathing shallow and quick. He could feel her tightening around him and it made him thrust deeper and harder. He wanted her to come apart in his arms.
“Oh, Knox.” Gen lifted her hips to meet him.
“Yes, baby.” He kissed her lips. “Come for me.”
One hard thrust and he broke the dam; Genevieve cried out as she bucked up against him, demanding more—taking more. She was slicker now and so hot that Knox couldn’t wait another minute. Bracing his arms on either side of her body, Knox drove into her one last time and exploded. Shocked by his own body’s reaction to this woman, Knox lowered himself down and wrapped Genevieve tightly in his arms. He kissed her lips, her cheeks, and her forehead, wanting to savor the aftermath in a way he’d never desired before. Knox had taken countless women to bed, but he was certain that this was the first time he’d ever made love.