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I do not own Glee or the characters, neither do I own Grayson's Vow.
SAM
I looked at the woman sitting next to me... The woman who was going to be my wife in a matter of days...
My wife...
I shook my head subtly, hardly able to believe the course of events that had transpired in the last twenty-four hours.
The marriage would be nothing more than a business venture, but still, the fact remained, fake or not, I was going to have a wife.
When I was younger, I had always assumed I'd get married someday. Hell, I'd even thought I'd known exactly who that woman would be.
I'd had a deep desire to create a family of my own... The type of home life I'd always longed for, but never had.
And then Olivia...
And well...suffice it to say, life was full of surprises. And not all good ones either.
Mercedes shifted in her seat, chewing on her lip.
"Do you think it's wise to tell your workers that our marriage is anything other than legitimate?" she huffed out. "I told you about my father. And the fewer people that know, the..."
"I trust Carlos like a brother," I interrupted, pulling into a parking space and shutting off the ignition. I couldn't help the non-humorous chuckle that rose in my throat at my own words though.
Not all brothers were trustworthy. And who knew that better than I?
"Carlos can be trusted," I amended. "As for Willie, I doubt if anyone is going to listen very carefully to his account of anything."
Mercedes shot me a look that was a cross between disdain and nervousness as she opened the door. I opened my door as well and hopped out.
"He seems to be a wise judge of character," she said when we met on the sidewalk.
"Sure, in the same way dogs and children are. In any case, I wouldn't worry about what either of them knows."
Suddenly, someone was approaching on the sidewalk. So I got into her space and walked her backward until she was pressed up against my truck.
A look of utter panic was on her face. And I grinned as I pressed my body into hers.
"What are you doing?" she hissed.
"Convincing the general public our relationship is very legitimate," I said close to her ear. God, she smelled good. Not just good...incredible.
Her scent was faint, like distant flowers on a breeze.
I hadn't known what she smelled like until my nose was right up against her.
I nuzzled my face into the side of her neck, inhaling deeply and feeling the warmth of her skin against my own.
She felt as stiff as a tree branch, so I pulled away.
Jesus, despite the fact that it'd only been a couple days since I'd been with fruit-flavored Jodi, I needed a woman.
"You're going to have to do a better job than that if you hope to persuade anyone I'm marrying you and not molesting you," I said. Then I turned and started walking.
After a second, she caught up to me. And when I glanced in her direction, I had to chuckle at the stiff set of her shoulders and the way that little chin was thrust in the air.
Why did I enjoy needling her so much?
During the meeting with Mr. Garner, the executor of Mercedes' grandmother's trust, he went over the terms with both of us.
It was straightforward. That was his assurance.
And the payout would occur immediately once we brought him a copy of our officially filed marriage license.
Al during said meeting, Mercedes and I had sat next to each other, holding hands like a pair of lovebirds, the heat of her skin searing into mine.
Mr. Garner seemed delighted as he looked between the two of us...
"Your grandmother was a fine woman, Mercedes. She would be so pleased to see you in love."
She winced. It was slight and she covered it immediately with a smile.
"Thank you. She would've loved Sam. I just know it."
"I don't doubt it. And of course, she'd be so pleased you were planning to make your life here. She did love this town."
"Yes, she did," Mercedes said, smiling a gentle smile. Clearly she'd loved her grandmother very much.
And just like that, guilt coiled in my gut, but I ignored it as best as I could. This was Mercedes' choice. I hadn't known her grandmother. Therefore, I had no loyalty to her... Or her money.
"You know," Mr. Garner continued. "Your grandmother believed that if age and maturity didn't make a person more aware of the needs of others, or at least one other, marriage certainly would. It's why she put the conditions on the trust money. She wanted it to be used well, and ideally in partnership with someone you chose to share a life with." He winked at Mercedes. "I'm so glad that's the case with you."
Mercedes looked vaguely ill even as she smiled and nodded at him.
"I haven't seen your father in quite some time. How's he doing?" he asked.
She visibly swallowed...
"He's fine, Mr. Garner." She paused. "I haven't told him about Sam yet." She gave me a tight smile. "If you wouldn't mind not mentioning this until I've had a chance to tell him myself..."
The executor furrowed his brow, but answered,
"Of course."
Once the appointment was concluded, we sat in my truck and I called the lawyer in town that had handled my father's affairs for years.
I thought he might see me quickly and I was right. We were able to make an appointment for the following day.
My head started spinning... This was happening very fast. But that's what I had wanted. Again, the quicker this marriage got started, the quicker Mercedes would leave.
"If Mr. Cassidy can have the agreement drawn up within a week, we could get married next Friday," I said, glancing at her as I drove back to the vineyard.
She nodded.
"I'm agreeable to that," she said quietly.
"I'll make the appointment, then. We'll need one for the license and then for the actual ceremony. I looked at the website."
"Oh. Okay."
She pulled her skirt down modestly and my eyes slid down her bare legs. She had great legs. Sleek and pretty. The kind of legs a man wanted wrapped around him as he...
I clenched my jaw, shutting those thoughts down immediately, that's when I noted her silence. I said,
"Not getting cold feet, are you?"
"No! No. This is all good. Quick, but good."
"Well, the sooner we get this done, the more quickly we can get it over with, too," I said, voicing the thought I'd had more than once.
"Yes. True."
She gave me a small smile, not showing any teeth. And it made me pause to wonder what was going through that head of hers.
I glanced over at her just as she took her long hair in her hands and used a rubber band from her purse to put it up in a knot. Dark tendrils slipped down around her face where they always seemed to be when her hair was up, apparently too silky to stay put for long.
I wondered what that hair would feel like wrapped around my fist...
'Damn it, Evans! Shut those thoughts down!'
Mercedes was a conundrum. A pretty princess with the temper of a fiery little witch. And for whatever reason, I liked to make those brown gem stone eyes flash with heat.
I wondered what she'd be like in bed...
A hot little temptress who... Goddamn! I gritted my teeth, frustrated with my thoughts as I slowed in front of the gardener's cottage.
She'd surprised me by making the choice to stay in that dirty little hovel.
With only cold water, surely she wouldn't have used the shower, yet somehow she looked fresh and clean.
I cringed... It really wasn't livable. Why she wanted to spend five minutes there, much less inhabit it was beyond me.
I'd lived in a small concrete cell for five years and even I wouldn't have any desire to live there. Of course, maybe that was precisely why, because I couldn't abide small spaces for long.
Many nights I'd woken up in a cold sweat from nightmares of my time inside. I've never spoken to anyone about my experience, and I doubted I ever would.
But for a very brief moment, the feelings of loneliness and grief, my constant companions during those five years, assaulted me, and I felt heavy with the weight of my own failures.
I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed the memories away, turning my thoughts back to Mercedes Jones and the fact that she was living in my gardener's shed.
Apparently, I'd misjudged her at least in some small measure.
Now I wondered what other secrets I'd discover about her if I cared to look hard enough.
Which I didn't. Not in the least.
When I came to a complete stop, Mercedes hopped out of my truck and stood in the open doorway for a moment.
"I'll be ready for our appointment in the morning and then I'm going to drive to San Francisco tomorrow to take care of a few things. I'll be gone through the weekend."
I nodded. That suited me just fine. The less I had to see of her before our wedding, the better.
And the less I'd have to think about the reality of it.
"Okay, meet me out front at eleven."
She nodded and closed the door, turning and walking through the foliage. And I sat there for a minute warring with myself.
It really wasn't right to let her stay in that cottage. Christ, screw it! It had been her choice. Maybe a dose of hard living would be good for the princess...
Or was it that witches preferred small houses in the woods?
I couldn't help chuckling to myself as I pulled away.
The appointment with Mr. Cassidy went smoothly and quickly. We weren't agreeing to a settlement should there be a divorce, but rather stating we would both leave the marriage with only what we'd arrived with.
The contract was extremely straightforward, and we made an appointment for Thursday to come in and sign the paperwork.
And with that, we were finished with the red tape involved in our union.
I made an appointment at the clerk's office for the following Friday morning at ten a.m. So the only thing left to do was to show up.
My stomach suddenly felt slightly queasy. If Mercedes' ashen-tinged complexion was any indication, she did as well.
I dropped Mercedes off at her cottage and told her I'd see her on Monday. She didn't even look back as she walked away. And as quiet as she'd been after our appointment, I half wondered whether she would return at all.
Maybe it would be best if she didn't. But I didn't believe that. Because for the first time in a year, I felt an eager anticipation for the future.
This morning I'd opened the list Harrold had made of the equipment needing repair or replacement and felt a flutter in my gut.
Soon, I would be able to go down it and check the items off one by one.
Tension had released in my shoulders and I'd finally allowed full-blown hope to surge through my system. And the power of it had left my heart beating wildly.
When was the last time I'd felt that sensation?
I couldn't remember.
"I won't let you down," I vowed for the hundredth time, addressing my departed father. "I'll make you proud of me, I swear it."
I had to believe that somehow, he would know. It was what kept me going.
I spent the weekend working with renewed vigor. There was going to be a lot of work to get done despite the incoming funds.
And I still had a meager staff. I'd have to hire a couple more people once I had the actual check in my hands, or at least knew it was coming very shortly.
When I arrived back at the house Sunday night, I remembered the bottle of Vosne-Romanée I'd asked Harrold to bring up to the main wine cellar.
Pangs of guilt and despair had crippled me when I'd considered selling my father's pride and joy...his rare wine collection...to bring some much-needed income into the vineyard.
The thought alone had felt like a betrayal.
I was trying... I was trying so hard to salvage all that was precious to him, that relief at not having to go through with selling it was overwhelming.
Now, success... Another thing I hadn't felt in years settled in my heart.
When I saw Harrold, I instructed him to put the bottle back in the lower wine cellar where it had originally been kept.
"Yes, sir. I'll do it this week."
"Thank you."
"And may I offer my most heartfelt congratulations on your...marriage, sir?"
The word marriage was offered with the coldest disdain I'd ever heard from him. And that was saying something.
"No, Harrold, you may not."
His lip quirked...
"Very well, sir. I do wish you the best, however. My mother used to say that marriage is much like wine. They both mature slowly and grow deeper and more complex with time."
I turned to Harrold...
"Listen Harrold, I think you know as well as I do that my marriage will not be allowed to mature. It's temporary... For business purposes only."
"As you say, sir."
I halted, frowning at him.
"I do say."
"Very well, sir."
I scowled at him and started for the stairs before I got overly annoyed with the man. He had a way of making me feel like I was twelve again.
And he had a way of making me question myself with his insolent, Yes, sir, no sirs. I'm going to fire him one of these days. Without severance!
I ate dinner alone, wondering when Mercedes would return. I hadn't asked her anything about her trip, because I didn't want to set a precedent that we would ask about each other's whereabouts or actions.
I certainly didn't want her thinking she could do that with me. And I had no desire to do it with her.
Still...
If she'd changed her mind, I'd rather know now than have to wait for her to call me at some point this week after not showing up.
Reluctantly, I picked up my phone and used the cell number I'd only used the one time before when I'd visited her at her hotel room.
I debated what to say in my text, since I didn't want to leave her with the impression I was checking in with her.
Me: Should I have Alice keep a plate warmed for you?
A few minutes later, my phone beeped...
Mercedes: That's thoughtful, but no, thank you.
I scowled. Was she dense?
Me: I'll have her set a place at breakfast for you then.
Mercedes: No, that won't be necessary either. Thank you.
I growled at the phone, punching at the small letters on the keyboard.
Me: Goddamn it Mercedes, are you coming back or not?
Several minutes ticked by, a strange panic rising in my throat...
Mercedes: Yes, I'll be back tomorrow afternoon. Miss me?
I exhaled.
Me: No. Goodnight.
Little witch.
Stay safe!