Honeymoon Phase By Amy Daws Read Free Chapter 15

Addison

It’s Sunday morning and my stomach swirls with anxiety as we drive Luke’s truck up the winding gravel lane leading to the top of Fletcher Mountain. Autumn is in full effect as it’s nearly the end of October, so it feels like I’m driving straight into a damn Hallmark movie as a kaleidoscope of burgundy, gold, and yellow leaves blanket the ground while we weave through the thick forestry.

The air is cool and carries hints of incoming snow. Snow in Boulder is always a possibility in the fall and the spring, but I expect it’s even worse up here as our elevation climbs with each winding turn.

“So is winter really brutal up here like my dad said?” I ask, biting my lip and glancing up at the large green pines clinging to the hills.

“We have a tractor for snow removal parked in the Morton building behind my place, but when it’s really bad we have to wait until the private plow company we pay for can carve us out.”

My eyes widen with that bit of information. “How long do you usually have to wait it out?”

Luke shrugs. “Depends on the storm. We had four days up here with no power last year.”

“Four days!” My hands tighten on my seat belt. “How did you not freeze?”

“All of our cabins have woodburning fireplaces, so it’s not the heat we worry about. It’s our refrigerators and phones and stuff that are a problem, but we have generators for those.”

“Oh my God,” I groan and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Maybe moving up here is a bad idea.”

“Little late to back out now.” Luke laughs and glances into the bed of his truck where nearly my whole life is packed up.

Okay, obviously not my whole life. I spent all of Friday night and Saturday packing up what I thought I might need for the next year, choosing to leave all of my big furniture behind as Luke has all of those types of things. So really, I just needed my clothes and my kitchen supplies.

Either way, I’m not giving up my apartment just yet. Who knows how this thing with Luke is going to go. It might be nice to have a space that I can get away to if living with him ever becomes . . . too much. That is if I’m not snowed in with him.

Good God.

The thought of being trapped with Luke didn’t bother me so much until I was a fool and decided it would be a good idea to kiss him on our wedding day. What was I thinking? Friends don’t kiss friends on the lips. Friends give each other shit and bail each other out of jail. They don’t . . . smooch. They don’t run their fingers through thick, silky hair. They don’t almost lift their leg and wrap it around said friend’s hip . . . or try to count whether there’s a six- or eight-pack under said best friend’s shirt.

All those muscles under my fingertips.

My body hums with memories of that embrace that I’ve been struggling to forget. It was tender and intimate and managed to light up an arousal in me that even my vibrator couldn’t satiate on Saturday night. And you bet your ass I dedicated plenty of time to “kneading the dough” if you know what I mean. Who knows how easy it will be to have alone time when I’ll be living with my guy best friend for the next twelve months.

Luke and I haven’t exactly talked about what our love lives will be like during this marriage of convenience, but I think it goes without saying, we won’t be sleeping with other people while we’re together. Not if his whole family thinks this marriage is real.

Plus, if word ever got back to my dad that Luke was sleeping around on me, he wouldn’t just come for Luke. He’d burn down Fletcher Mountain just to dance on its ashes.

I frown as the idea of Luke with another woman needles something deep inside me. Thinking of him with other girls never bothered me before, but now, it definitely does. I guess that sheet of paper we paid thirty dollars for does something to my mental disposition. Hopefully in a year, that won’t be a thing, and we can go back to being just regular old Luke and Addison and forget about that time we had to kiss in front of a clerk at the county courthouse.

Either way, I have to live with him to make this seem real to everyone. And I need to show my dad that I’m really doing this or he’ll use it as an excuse to sell the yard out from under me. That old man of mine doesn’t seem to have any faith that I can do it on my own, which just makes me want to prove him wrong even more.

Luke drives past the red barn and my head jerks when I see his sister-in-law Trista standing outside filling a bucket out of a spicket. She waves and then frowns as her eyes move to the back of the truck.

“Have you still not told your family about us yet?”

Luke makes a noise in his throat.

“Luke!”

“What?”

“What are you waiting for?”

He grumbles and yanks his hat off, running a frustrated hand through his shaggy hair. “I just don’t want to hear it from them.”

“Hear what?”

“Just . . . everything.” He cuts me a grave look. “You’re going to learn real quick that my family is never short of opinions. I’ll tell them, I swear. Obviously they’re going to notice you moving in today so it’ll come out today. Probably.”

I frown, puzzled over his resistance to sharing the news after he was the one so adamant about us getting married in the first place. I found it better to rip it off like a Band-Aid with my dad, though him making me plan a damn formal wedding feels like he’s inflicting a punishment on me for figuring out how to get around this stupid business trust. But he’s the one who forced this on me. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

We drive past Wyatt’s and Calder’s cabins, and as Luke backs his truck up to the front door of his cute cedar-sided house that I’ve only been in a couple times, I see an SUV barreling toward us at a terrifying speed.

Luke jumps out of the car, concern etched all over his face as he makes his way over while the vehicle skids to a stop, kicking up gravel and dust all over him.

“Lucas William Fletcher!” a voice screams and I move to the front of the truck to see Luke’s mom standing there.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Luke asks, his voice full of fear.

“Tell me it isn’t true.”

“What?”

“Tell me it’s some sort of sick prank.”

“What’s a sick prank?”

“Did you get married and not tell me?” she screeches so loud, it echoes off the mountainside.

My jaw drops and I fight the urge to run and hide as I watch Luke stand before her, all six foot two of him, hunched with head hanging low as his five-foot-nothing mom tears him a new asshole.

“I couldn’t believe my ears when John Monroe called me on the phone this morning to discuss the particulars of this big wedding.”

“John called you?” Luke asks and cuts me a wary look as my hands form fists at my side. Of course my dad called her. He’s going to do everything in his power to make this as painful as possible for the two of us.

Movement draws my eyes down the hill and I spot Calder and Dakota standing out on their front porch watching the show. Trista is making her way up the lane from the barn as well and, sure enough, Wyatt emerges from his cabin, baby in tow.

News sure travels fast on Fletcher Mountain.

“You bet your ass John called me and it should have been you!” She jabs her finger into Luke’s chest, her short blond bob falling into her face with the aggressive movement. Johanna is small, but has some weight to her, so you know she’s capable of wielding that finger with purpose. “I raised you better than this, Lucas. To elope and not even tell me is unforgivable. I’m heartbroken. If your father were here right now, I would make him kick your sorry ass!”

My heart lurches at the stricken look on Luke’s face at the mention of his dad and before I know it, my feet are moving toward both of them, my heart pounding in my chest. “I’m sorry, Johanna. I’m afraid this is all my fault,” I say, tucking my hair behind my ears to try to take some of the rage off of Luke and put it on me.

Johanna’s stormy eyes turn to me and soften instantly. “Honey, this isn’t about you. You are positively lovely. I could tell that from our time with you in Mexico.”

“Thank you,” I state, sparing a glance at Luke.

“Which is how I know you deserve so much better than a son who doesn’t tell his own mother when he got married.” She cuts a menacing look back to her son.

Luke grips the back of his neck and stares up at the sky. “Jesus, Mom, it’s been like three days.”

“I don’t give a shit!” she exclaims, stomping her Dr. Scholl’s shoe into the gravel. “I should have been the first one you called. John said you came to the house to see him on Friday. Did you forget where your family home was?”

Luke winces and yanks his hat off, running his fingers through his hair as he murmurs, “No.”

“We were going to surprise you,” I sputter out, my body tense with anxiety as I grab Luke’s palm with one hand and wrap my other around his arm as a sign of unity. “It was my idea,” I continue, my brain wracking itself for what to say next. “We were going to surprise your whole family. Tell you when we were all together.”

Johanna’s rage turns to confusion. “Is that right?”

“Absolutely,” I reply firmly, forcing a toothy smile back at her. “We just had to tell my dad earlier because he was heading back to Florida.”

“I see,” Johanna tuts, crossing her arms over her chest, her chin dropping as her lips curl down.

“This is so exciting, you guys,” Trista exclaims, coming up around the car and standing beside Johanna. She wraps her arm around Luke’s mom and begins rubbing her back in a soothing, comforting motion. “Isn’t this great, Jo? You were just saying how worried you were for Luke to be all alone up here. This is so amazing. Congratulations!”

“Did you guys seriously get married?” Dakota squeals from their deck before grabbing Calder and dragging him up the hill toward us.

Wyatt joins in too and, before I know it, the entire Fletcher family is wrapping me up in a big hug and offering me and Luke their congratulations. Luke receives several pats on his back from his brothers and I begin to see the reason why Luke wanted to keep this all a secret from them.

They are a lot.

But he’s the one who chose to live up here with them all on the mountain. He’s the one who volunteered his home for us to live in. This was all his idea, as a matter of fact. And it took three proposals to get us here. Did he not realize how hard this might be?

“Calder, go to our cabin and grab that prosecco in the fridge,” Dakota says, whacking her boyfriend’s tattoo-covered arm with a sense of urgency.

“What’s prosecco?”

Dakota rolls her eyes. “The champagne.”

“Oh . . . what do I bring for cups?”

She winces and then shrugs. “The red Solo cups are fine.”

“So bad for the environment,” Wyatt growls under his breath as Calder turns to do as his lady told him.

Trista comes in close, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Let’s see the ring!”

“Oh, um . . .” I hesitate before Luke interjects.

“It’s coming still.” Luke smiles awkwardly at me and glances down at my empty hand. “Like I said before, this was all really impulsive and spur-of-the-moment so there’s a lot we still have to figure out.”

“Impulsive is fun!” Dakota smiles, showing me all her teeth. “I could totally tell you two had the hots for each other in Mexico.”

“Oh, is that right?” I giggle woodenly, my eyes flashing nervously to Luke.

“This boy is smitten with you,” Trista adds, grabbing Luke’s arm playfully. “You snagged a good one here. Heart of gold.”

“Definitely,” I say around a laugh as Calder appears, popping the cork and sending it flying down the mountain.

“You’re going to go find that,” Wyatt drawls and Calder rolls his eyes.

Dakota pours everyone some bubbles and as she tries to pass a cup to Johanna, she holds her hand up to refuse. “None for me, thanks.”

“Are you sure?” Dakota asks with a frown.

“You kids go ahead and celebrate. I should be getting home.” She turns to make her way back to her car and Luke follows her, worry all over his face.

“I’m really sorry for not telling you sooner, Mom,” he drawls, looking like a lost puppy begging for a home. “It’s been such a whirlwind. We’re getting Roe moved into my place right now. We haven’t had a moment to breathe.”

She glances at the truck bed full of my belongings and offers him a weak smile. “Congratulations to you both.”

She turns to leave and Luke stands there looking completely destroyed. The sight of him devastated over hurting his mom is killing me to witness so I step forward, red Solo cup in hand and say, “Johanna?”

“Yes, dear?”

I swallow the knot in my throat, feeling all the Fletcher family eyes burning into me. “Um . . . Luke and I are planning a proper ceremony we want to do in a couple of months. My dad really wants to walk me down the aisle and everything.”

“Yes, he mentioned that. That’s so nice,” she says, opening her car door and holding the frame like she needs to get going.

“Yeah, um . . . I don’t know anything about wedding planning so I was wondering if you’d . . .” I lick my lips nervously, my hands sweaty around my cup as I cast a terrified glance to Luke. “Would you maybe help me with everything?”

Johanna stares back at me, her eyes as wide as saucers. “You want me to help you plan your wedding?”

“Only if you want to,” I rush out, terrified that maybe she hates the idea. “I’m just not really a girlie girl and have no idea where to start, but I could probably hire a professional if you’re too busy or—”

My voice is cut off as Johanna eliminates the space between us and crushes me in a big, giant hug, her arms trembling around me.

I hold my breath as my entire body tenses in her embrace and I stand there with my arms out, plastic cup in hand, refusing to hug her back.

It’s nothing personal really. I have the same trouble accepting affection from Edith. It’s just . . . one of my quirks. I’m not big on physical affection, especially when it comes to women. Raise your hand if you have mommy issues!

“I’d love to, sweetie,” she murmurs into my hair before pulling away, her eyes red rimmed as she smiles, looking genuinely happy for the first time since she came up here today. “This is going to be so much fun! You leave it all to me.”

“Thanks, Johanna,” I murmur through a forced smile.

“Call me Mom or Jo. Whatever feels right.” She chucks me under the chin and squeals before hugging me one more time. When she lets go, she cuts a menacing look to Luke, still obviously not ready to let him off the hook. But he looks mildly relieved when she turns around and says, “Pour me some of that champagne, Dakota!”

“You got it, Jo,” Dakota calls back and does as she’s told.

Luke sidesteps to wrap his arm around me. “I owe you big for that one, Roe,” he murmurs into my hair before pressing his lips to my temple.

A flush of heat spreads through me as he stands there, holding me like it’s the most normal thing in the world. And strangely, it does feel normal. Luke feels good to me. Comforting. A stark contrast to how I felt with Johanna’s affection. What the hell does that even mean?

“It’s the least I can do,” I croak quietly, and we both exhale a heavy breath and sip champagne on the mountaintop with his family, celebrating our happy union.

And it is happy . . . so far. This marriage is what I wanted to get the lumberyard, which is the bigger thing that I wanted. I can handle this Fletcher family. I can handle a little wedding planning with Luke’s mother. It’ll be a piece of cake. Wedding cake, that is.