Do you take this rebel - By Sherryl Woods Page 0,59
her wildest dreams had she ever imagined wearing such a gown.
But then, never in her wildest dreams had she imagined a wedding day that was such a sham.
Not that anyone was acknowledging that. Everyone was painfully polite, determinedly upbeat. Frank Davis was acting as if he’d been looking forward to Cassie’s marriage to his son for years. Her mother’s tears could be dismissed as typical of the mother of the bride. If her proud smile seemed a little forced, no one commented on it. And exhilarated by the discovery that Cole was his real father, Jake scooted from one guest to another to share that incredible news.
Meanwhile, her friends were offering up toasts with French champagne and snapping pictures as she and Cole cut the gorgeous three-tiered wedding cake that Lauren had had flown in from Beverly Hills along with the caterer himself. The man had moaned when he’d seen her mother’s kitchen, then gone to work whipping up the most amazing hors d’oeuvres under Gina’s watchful gaze. Though Gina grumbled at not being allowed to do the job herself, Cassie noted that she seemed happy enough taking surreptitious notes on the recipes. It was the first interest she’d shown in anything related to her restaurant business since arriving in Winding River weeks ago.
Studying the small gathering, Cassie concluded that everyone except the bride and groom seemed to be having a blast. They were all happily caught up in the illusion of happily-ever-after that weddings always evoked.
When she could stand it no longer, she went looking for her new husband. She found him all alone on the front porch, an untouched glass of champagne dangling from his fingers and an unreadable expression on his handsome face.
“Quite a day,” he said without looking up when she joined him.
“It was a dream wedding,” she said, unable to keep the wistful note out of her voice. If only the bride and groom had been happy, she thought.
“Yeah, too bad it was such a farce, huh?”
Hearing him voice it hurt as badly as being a part of the subterfuge. Some part of her had obviously been hoping against hope that the occasion, or maybe the wedding vows themselves, would soften his attitude, that he would want all of this to be real.
“I need to get out of here,” she said stiffly. “I don’t think I can bear it for another second.”
“Anxious for your wedding night?” he taunted.
She swallowed hard and fought tears. “Hardly.” In fact, she hadn’t anticipated a wedding night at all. She was positive that Cole intended this to be a marriage in name only, if only to punish her. Maybe even to punish himself for being foolish enough to marry her.
He glanced at her. “I’ve arranged for you to have your own suite at the hotel until we decide what we’re going to do,” he said, confirming her guess and stripping away any lingering hope she might have harbored that it would be otherwise.
She stared at him blankly. “What we’re going to do?” she repeated. “What does that mean?”
“Whether we’re going to leave Winding River,” he explained. “I can set up shop in California or anywhere else, for that matter.”
The explanation—the very prospect of leaving—was too much. The thought of running away once more, essentially in disgrace—even if she was the only one who understood that—was overwhelming. She bounced off the swing.
“I am not leaving here,” she said, scowling down at him. “I’ve gone along with everything you wanted, but not that.”
He didn’t seem the least bit disconcerted or distressed by her vehemence. “I just thought it might be easier to start fresh in a new place, where no one knows our history. We’d be just like any other couple who’s grown apart. No one would know we’d never really been together in the first place.”
“No, Cole,” she said, standing up to him on this as she hadn’t on anything else. “We did this to give Jake a family. That means a whole family, including your father and my mother.”
“Heaven help the kid,” he said grimly, but he nodded. “Okay, then, we stay. You can start looking for a house tomorrow.”
“I gather you don’t want to live at the Double D?”
“Not a chance.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. The prospect of living under Frank Davis’s thumb had been daunting. Maybe she and Cole would have half a chance to work things out if they were on their own.
“In town? Or would you prefer a ranch?” she asked.
“Not a ranch,” he said