Chapter Six

OUR TRIP HOME

 

THE ELECTRICITY FROM THE EXCITEMENT my mother stirred up had waned, and we were left with silence as we left Las Vegas and headed down the highway to Los Angeles, where Weston lived, in his car. The music was on low, and it lightened the mood a bit.

“Am I the only one who thinks this is the most awkward moment?” Weston’s smooth voice spoke, breaking the heavy silence and my deep thoughts.

“Nope,” I said, popping the “p” at the end.

“Which is strange, because we were both so comfortable with each other yesterday.”

“That was yesterday . . . before we got married,” I reminded him.

His head hung and he let out a sigh, looking at me cautiously out of the corner of his eye.

“Never, in a million years, did I ever expect to come home from a business trip in Vegas as a married man.” He shook his head. “Fuck.”

“Why am I going with you?” I asked, yet again.

“Because your mom has some serious voodoo,” he noted with a humorless chuckle.

I nodded. “I still can’t believe she convinced us this was a good idea.”

“Hmm . . . part of me says this is the stupidest idea ever,” he said. My body slumped further into the plush leather seats. “But, then part of me wonders if she’s right.”

A part of me wondered as well, but it didn’t quell the twisting in my stomach and the vibration in my veins. Leaving for college was supposed to be my big moment of independence, but suddenly I was completely dependent on a man I didn’t even know. That alone scared the shit out of me.

“I don’t . . . I don’t want to be a burden to anyone. Especially to you, a person I barely know.”

“You’re not a burden, Wren. Please, don’t say that. I really, really enjoyed yesterday.” His hand reached out to take mine.

It was warm, and its heat spread through my whole body, comforting me.

“But this is not how you saw your drive home.”

“No, it’s not. It is what it is, however. So, we’ll make do. I’m willing to . . . try,” he reassured me.

“So, what now?” I asked as we relaxed a bit.

“Well . . .” He sighed. “I honestly don’t know.”

“I was supposed to return to school tomorrow.”

“Fuck . . . school,” he groaned.

“How . . . how long should I wait to change my name?” I asked, realizing we didn’t fully understand everything that went into staying married. “I don’t even know how we do this.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. “I . . . it probably would be best to do that as soon as possible. Tomorrow. If anything were to happen to you, they would need to contact me. So, you’ll need a new social security card, a license. We’ll need to enroll you in school . . .”

“What about just getting my GED?”

“It’s best to have a diploma. I know USC already accepted you, but it really is best,” he said and began mumbling to himself before he pressed a button on the steering wheel. “Call Julia.”

“Calling Julia,” an automated voice said through the speakers.

A ring of the phone was followed by a feminine voice. “Hi, Wes. Enjoy your trip?”

He let out a little chuckle and glanced at me. “Yes, I did. In fact, I’m going to be home in just over an hour, and I need you to be there. We’ll talk then.”

“Aye aye, captain. I’ll be there.”

There was a click of the call ending, and the music resumed. “Who was that?”

“My assistant.”

“You have an assistant?”

He turned and smirked at me. “I have three, and Julia, my head assistant, also has an assistant.”

The blood drained from my face. What had I gotten myself into?

“I suddenly feel ill,” I said and leaned over. “What do you do? I don’t even know what line of work my husband is in!”

He eyed me and grimaced. “I’m a movie producer.”

I stared at him in a wide-eyed mixture of surprise and horror. “What?”

“I’m in the movie industry.”

It all started to make some sense. From the money, to people practically tripping over themselves to help him. I thought it was just his good looks, but it was more.

“Oh my God. Just . . . take me straight to the airport. Do whatever you need to do and send me the papers. I’ll sign them,” I rambled. A movie producer? There was just no way it was going to work.

“What? Why?”

“That is a high profile life . . .” I shook my head and my shoulders drew up, my body reacting as my brain tried to form words. “I’m just an Indiana girl, Weston. I’m not cut out for that kind of life.”

“You don’t even know what kind of life I have or what yours will be like,” he said, trying to defuse me.

“It involves lots of money and possibly fame, I can tell that much.”

“And you have an aversion to those?” he asked, his brow hitching up. It was one of those looks like he was expecting to see that I had two heads.

I nodded my head vigorously. “Yes.”

“You’re a strange girl. Aren’t you supposed to be wanting to be Kim Kardashian?” he asked.

“I’d rather be the barista at Starbucks,” I grumbled with a roll of my eyes.

“Huh.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Okay, so I think it’s best that we don’t share a bedroom right away. Agreed?” I turned to stare at him with wide eyes. “Temporary, of course.”

I shook my head again. “Airport.”

He continued on, ignoring me. “I have a very nice bedroom next to mine you could use. It’s fully furnished, but if you don’t like it, we can get whatever you want.”

“I don’t want you spending money on me, and I thought we were headed to the airport.”

“Nope. Wren Lockwood, we’re going to give this a go,” he said, grinning like a fool and ignoring my aversions.

I glared at him. “I don’t like you so much right now. Can we go back to five minutes ago when you were almost agreeing with me?”

He continued on as if he hadn’t heard me, yet again. “You’ll need a car. We can shop for one of those this weekend.”

“No.” Going to USC was supposed to be the big change in my life. Something I could plan and prepare for mentally. A spur-of-the-moment wedding, tied to someone I didn’t know, sent the adrenaline running through me into a nervous humming. My knee began to bounce.

“And, we can change any of the furniture you don’t like.”

I sighed, finally giving in. “The furniture will be perfectly fine. And I don’t need a car.”

“You’ll need a car to get around.”

“I’ll need a job . . .” I grumbled, then sat straight up in my seat. “My job!” I was scheduled for a shift the next night.

“You don’t need a job. I can set you up an account to use.”

His money? I didn’t know much about cars, but I knew that the one we were in probably cost more than the house I lived in. Which meant he had more than I could even imagine.

But I’d been working part time since I was sixteen, using my own money to pay for things I wanted.

I shook my head. “I’m not spending your money.”

“Yes, you are, Wren.”

“We don’t even know each other! How are you making these types of financial decisions?” Frustrated tears filled my eyes as the bouncing of my leg sped up.

He smiled softly and reached out to place his hand on mine, which was fisted on my thigh. “Because you’re my wife, and I’m going to take care of you.”

“Even though, you haven’t had any of the . . . benefits of a wife?” I asked quietly, averting my eyes from him to look out the window.

He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “We’ll get to that.”

I tilted my head back against the headrest, then turned to look at him. “We can just have this annulled, is what we can do.”

“Dorothy, you’re not in Kansas anymore. Follow my yellow brick road, and you’ll be fine.” His eyes were bright, amusement dancing in them as he smiled at me.

I narrowed my gaze on him. “I’m not sure I like the Wizard of Oz analogy.” Though I definitely wasn’t in Kansas—or Indiana—anymore.

“Like it or not, it’s you and me, baby girl. We’re in this mess together. No running back to Indianapolis. Your mom was right, I asked you to marry me. I may have been drunk, but I meant it. I spent nearly fifty grand on your ring, so I know I meant it.”

“What?” My voice came out in a shrill screech, my gaze moving down to the diamond situated on my left ring finger. It was big, huge, maybe even enormous by diamond standards, but fifty grand?

“That ring is from Tiffany’s. The name alone costs.”

I shifted in my seat to face him. “I can’t wear it in school!”

“We can get you a chain, if you like, and you can wear it around your neck.”

“Why are you doing all this?” I asked, defeat filling me.

“Because, as much as I do agree with you, and as much as I know how ludicrous this is, my gut wants to agree with your mom. Don’t you feel the same? I won’t force you, Wren. You do have free will . . . with the exception of the money acceptance. I guess . . . I just got caught up in the idea,” he explained, deflating near the end. “In my fantasy.”

“It’s not that,” I spoke softly, “I . . . I’m caught up in the idea, but I’m scared shitless.” I swallowed thickly, fighting back the fear and uncertainty. “A stranger, in a strange land, with no inkling of home?” My heart was aching, chest tight, thinking about all of the things I took for granted.

“How about we just take it one day at a time?” he said. His fingers laced into mine and he began rubbing gentle circles on my thumb.

I took a deep, settling breath. “I think I can handle that.”

“Good, because . . . welcome home, Mrs. Lockwood,” he said with a smirk.

I didn’t realize we’d stopped, and my gaze moved to the vision in front of us. My eyes widened as I looked incredulously at the sight before me.

It didn’t matter how much I made over my lifetime, one glance told me I’d never make enough money to pay for the home that lay in front of us.

Holy shit.

I was in way over my head.