BULL (The Buck Boys Heroes Book 1) Page 10

  Sliding to his feet, he looks me dead in the eye. “There’s no shame in falling in love with your wife, Locke.”

  I laugh that off in a low chuckle. “Not going to happen.”

  I tell myself that over and over again as he exits the bar and disappears out of view.

  I may have felt a connection to my wife tonight that transcended what we agreed to, but love isn’t in the cards for me, especially not with Miss Shaw.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Trina

  Sundays are a day of grace.

  My mom would tell us that when we were kids, right before she handed us a list of chores that needed to be tended to in our home or at the bakery.

  I was always the first to volunteer to wash the floor.

  It was a mindless job that never required much effort on my part other than handling a string mop and a large pail of soapy water.

  Since I’ve lived away from home, I’ve used Sundays to recharge.

  I’m doing that today, but it’s not because I want a reset. It’s because I need an escape.

  I couldn’t sleep after coming on my boss’s hand right before he answered his phone.

  He took a goddamn call while his fingers were inside of me. It was mere seconds after he honed in on that spot that no man has ever found before.

  At least not with me.

  It wasn’t even a treasure hunt for Locke. He didn’t need a map. He instinctively knew how to curl one of his fingers in just the right way to send me into an earth-shattering orgasm.

  He did that and then seamlessly answered his phone before rushing off to meet someone else.

  I didn’t even get a goodbye, or that was fun.

  It felt like he penciled in ten minutes to finger fuck me before he continued with his night.

  If the dictionary is looking for an image to accompany the definition of humiliation, they could have taken a picture of me last night when I went to bed.

  I was defeated.

  Embarrassed, and yes, I was mad.

  Mad at my husband for answering the phone but also angry with myself for letting my guard down.

  I know better than to trust him.

  I handle his business affairs. He’s as cutthroat as they come. Less than two weeks ago he axed a long-time employee. When I asked why he said it was because they hadn’t lived up to the Abdons ideal.

  He didn’t live up to the Trina Shaw ideal last night, so this fake marriage is officially in separation mode until at least midnight tonight.

  I left Mr. Abdon a note on the kitchen counter this morning telling him that I had something to take care of today but would see him tomorrow after work.

  I didn’t leave anything for Graham because he deserves nothing from me.

  I’m going to spend today back in my simple world with the people who mean the most to me.

  Before I do that, I slip the wedding rings from my finger. Instead of shoving them into the pocket of my jeans, I tuck them into a compartment within my purse. I zip it up to secure them in place.

  I may not place any emotional value on them, but monetarily they are worth a lot, and once my marriage has come to an end, I’m giving them both back to Mr. Locke.

  Maybe one day if he finds a woman willing to marry him for the right reasons, he can give her Mr. Abdon’s late wife’s wedding band.

  I doubt a woman exists who would fall in love with him, but miracles happen on a daily basis in New York City, so there’s a slim chance.

  As for me, I plan on letting fate lead me to a man I’m meant to marry. By that, I mean a man who won’t take a call when I’m riding his hand to a mind-numbing orgasm.

  With a lingering sting still gnawing at me after what transpired last night, I tug open the door to my family’s bakery.

  I’m going to spend the day here helping my mom since I know she’s making a batch of cinnamon buns.

  “Trina is here!” Clara screams at no one in particular.

  I can’t mask the smile that takes over my lips.

  This is home.

  It doesn’t matter where I go to sleep at night because this sugar-scented brick-faced building in Brooklyn has always felt like my home.

  I did my homework in a back room here. I learned how to bake chocolate cake and almond cookies in the industrial kitchen, and I watched a few of my older siblings fall in love here.

  My sister, Falon, pops into view from the kitchen. “Triny!”

  I lunge myself at her.

  Her arms offer me a sense of comfort I’ve never found with anyone else.

  She’s only older than me by a few years, but I’ve always looked to her for guidance and advice.

  “Fal,” I whisper her name as I relish the embrace. “When did you get back to town?”

  “Last night,” she says as she pushes back to look me over. “I’ve missed you.”

  I’d say the same, but I don’t think I can get the words past the lump in my throat. I’ve never kept secrets from Falon, but I have to now. I can’t tell her that I married my boss for a short stint to fuel the dreams of a dying man.

  It sounds great in logic, but the situation itself is beyond illogical.

  It’s complicated, and that doesn’t scratch the surface of what happened between Graham and me last night.

  “What’s new in your world?” she asks with a tilt of her head. That sends her brown curls bouncing around her shoulders. “Is there anything I should know about?”

  “You should know that I’m craving a cinnamon bun.” I laugh. “I’m here to help make them.”

  “I’m on board for that.” She wiggles her left hand in the air. “I need to take off my wedding rings first. Remember the time I lost them in the croissant dough?”

  I watch silently as she slips the rings that hold so much meaning to her off her finger. Within the hour, they’ll be back where they belong.

  They’re a symbol of her deep and unbreakable bond with her husband, Asher. Mine are nothing but a representation of the depth of my deception and the knowledge that I chose to marry a man who walked away from me last night during one of the most vulnerable moments of my life.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Graham

  “You’re here early,” I comment to my wife as I pass her desk en route to my office.

  Trina glances in my direction. “I have a busy day.”

  It’s nothing compared to mine.

  My assistant stacked meeting upon meeting into my calendar for today. Most of those magically appeared during the past two hours.

  She’s spent her time making sure that I won’t be hanging out here today.

  She avoided me with masterful grace yesterday, even going so far as to arrange a catered dinner for Lloyd and me last night.

  Bette was at the helm of that. I have no fucking idea why Trina chose to recruit Lloyd’s spy to serve an under-seasoned halibut dinner to us, but Lloyd cleaned his plate like it was his last meal.

  Thankfully, it wasn’t.

  He was up at the crack of dawn this morning trying to hunt down my wife to thank her for her thoughtfulness. She’d already left for work.

  If I hadn’t heard her moving around in my bedroom last night, I would have assumed that she had one foot out of the door of our marriage, but she was there padding around on the hardwood floors before I noticed the exact moment she shut off the lights to go to bed.

  My gaze was pinned to the small sliver of light that crept under the door that separated the two of us.

  I debated whether or not to let myself into my bedroom to talk to her about what happened in the library the other night.

  For once, I acted like the gentleman Lloyd thinks I am, and I stayed put.

  I stop before I reach my office door. “We should talk.”

  Trina’s gaze darts to my face. “You don’t have time to talk.”

  She has a good point.

  According to the jam-packed schedule she sent me via email, I have precisely twenty-two minutes until I need to be i
n a meeting at an office in midtown.

  “I’ll make the time. After all, it’s what I do best.” I smirk because old habits die-hard, and watch jokes along with puns that involve time are an integral part of working for Lloyd Abdon.

  Her lips stay in place. There’s no smile, but at the same time, she’s not frowning.

  I’ll take that as a win.

  “We don’t need to talk,” she tosses that at me with a final gaze before she diverts her attention to her laptop screen.

  “We do,” I counter.

  Her arms cross over the light blue blouse she’s wearing. “About?”

  Trina Shaw is far too intelligent to think I’ll fall for this ploy. “Trina.”

  “Graham,” she says my name in the middle of one of those groan moan things that make me instantly hard.

  “My office,” I spit both words out through clenched teeth.

  “Is over there,” she snaps back with a finger wagging in the air toward my open office door.

  I glance at it for some goddamn reason.

  She seems to take some pleasure in that because when I look back at her, my wife is almost smiling.

  I fight off one of my own. “This won’t take long, Trina.”

  “What won’t take long?”

  That question doesn’t come from my wife’s perfect lips. The voice is too throaty.

  I close my eyes because I deserve all of this.

  I took off like a selfish asshole after fingering Trina to an orgasm. I deserve to suffer.

  “Kay!” Trina bounces to her feet. “You’re here.”

  “In the flesh.” Kay spins to show off the floral print dress she’s wearing. “You said it was important, so I came in early.”

  I turn to face the watch designer. “How much of our conversation did you overhear, Kay?”

  She looks me over before her gaze settles on my left hand. “Oh my god! Are you married? Who the hell married you?”

  Her hand flies up to cover her mouth after that last question.

  Trina bows her head. I suspect it’s to bite back laughter.

  “The most exquisite woman I’ve ever met did.”

  That instantly draws my wife’s gaze to my face. She studies me, which suits me fine because I can’t take my eyes off of her.

  “Do I know her?” Kay presses for more. “What’s her name?”

  “I’m her,” Trina whispers.

  “What?” Kay shouts. “You didn’t say you’re her, did you, Trina?”

  Trina answers that with a wiggle of the fingers of her left hand in the air. The overhead lights bounce off the diamond. “I did. I’m Graham’s wife.”

  It’s the first time I’ve heard those words, and they strike something inside of me that reaches deeper than anything I’ve ever felt before.

  “Is this real?” Kay screeches. “Is today April first? This has to be a joke. It can’t be real.”

  I lock eyes with Trina and answer for myself since I can’t speak for her. “It’s real, Kay. Trina agreed to be my wife, and I consider myself an incredibly lucky man.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Trina

  Graham surprised me just now.

  Actually, it goes far beyond that. He shocked me into utter silence when he declared to Kay that he married the most exquisite woman he’s ever met.

  I couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or if he was trying to sell our situation to Kay. I know she’s known Lloyd for decades, so it wouldn’t be beyond the scope of reason to assume that Graham was trying to convince Kay that our marriage is real.

  For a half-second, after hearing that, I semi believed him.

  “When did this wedding take place?” Kay’s gaze volleys between Graham and me. “It must have been recently because you weren’t wearing that rock the last time I saw you, Trina.”

  “It wasn’t soon enough,” Graham answers.

  Kay’s hands jump to the center of her chest. “How romantic is he?”

  On a scale of one to ten, I’d rate him a negative one, but I just smile so Graham can continue his string of lies.

  “Lloyd has to be over the moon.” Kay bounces in her shoes. “He always wanted Graham to find the perfect woman, and it looks to me like he did.”

  Considering the source, I take that as a compliment.

  “Trina has more good news to share,” Graham effortlessly segues into the reason I called Kay in. “I have a meeting I need to get to.”

  I glance in his direction to find him staring at me. “I’ll speak to you later.”

  Kay laughs. “I’m not going to tell anyone if you kiss each other goodbye.”

  Before Graham can sweep me up into a kiss that rivals the one from the other night, I move to plant a soft one on his cheek.

  “You should go,” I whisper. “You don’t want to be late.”

  He stares into my eyes. “I’ll be back before you know it, Mrs. Locke.”

  “That’s adorable.” Kay busts out an ear-to-ear grin. “I’m kicking myself for not seeing this before today.”

  “For not seeing what?” Graham questions.

  “How in love you two are.” She bats her eyelashes. “I can’t wait to spread the good news.”

  Great.

  Before the day is over, everyone who works for Abdons will know that I married my boss.

  “Good news travels fast.” Lloyd beams as I step off the elevator into Graham’s penthouse just before six.

  I don’t have to ask what that’s about.

  A steady stream of my co-workers stopped by my office today with their well wishes for a long and happy marriage. Most of those were accompanied by looks of confusion, but I simply nodded over and over again.

  Deceiving the people I have to see on a daily basis isn’t something I want to do, but I’m so deep into this that I don’t have a choice at this point.

  “Kay told me how thrilled she is by the news about her design, and,” Lloyd pauses to draw out the moment before he goes on, “your marriage!”

  I smile. “She was really happy about her design being chosen.”

  Lloyd purses his lips. “I happen to think that her design will catch on like wildfire. I’m sensing our biggest sales numbers are on the horizon when that design launches.”

  Graham would disagree, but I’m on the Kay train. I believe a throwback to a traditionally designed watch is the right move for Abdons.

  Lloyd takes a step back to study me. “You think I made the right call about that, don’t you, Trina? I see you’re a fan of our timeless designs.”

  I glance at the watch on my wrist. “Why mess with elegance?”

  “I agree,” says a deep voice from behind me.

  I glance over my shoulder to see my husband approaching us.

  What the hell?

  I left the office before him. He came back from his tenth meeting of the day an hour ago and slammed his office door shut. I used the opportunity to sneak out.

  Since I came straight here from work, he either has a twin, or there’s a secret elevator he boarded that brought him up here before me.

  “My driver brought me home,” he answers my unspoken question. “You left early, so I didn’t have a chance to tell you that he was waiting by the curb in front of the building for us.”

  I saw the car.

  I marched right past it on my way to the subway because I assumed the driver was taking a much-needed break after chauffeuring Graham around Manhattan all day.

  “I like the subway,” I say before I shift my focus back to Lloyd.

  “You and me both.” Lloyd sighs. “The subway sets the pulse of this city. You can step on there and take stock of those around you. I’ve made more friends riding the train than I have at any country club or business meeting.”

  I’ve never been to a country club, and my business meetings are typically with the people I work with. I already consider them my friends.

  “I make a point of avoiding the subway,” Graham says as he moves to stand next to
Lloyd. “Besides, I already have all the friends I need.”

  Lloyd’s hand jumps to my husband’s shoulder. “Those friendships will withstand the test of time, Bull. The Buck boys bond is a strong one.”

  Before I can question what that’s about, Graham shifts the subject to something that has nothing to do with him. “Since Lloyd had a craving for pizza that’s on the menu for dinner. I’ve arranged for delivery at seven.”

  “I can’t wait.” Lloyd rubs his stomach through the white button-down shirt he’s wearing. “You two are spoiling me. Why are you so good to me?”

  I bow my head because we’re far from good to him. We’re liars who are pretending to be something we’re not.

  “I’m going to take a shower before dinner,” I say. “I’ll be back out before the pizza gets here.”

  Graham catches my eye. “I ordered a pepperoni and mushroom pizza with extra cheese for you.”

  “You what?” I don’t try to mask the surprise in my tone.

  “It’s your favorite from the place in Brooklyn that you like.”

  I stare at his lips as I struggle to comprehend what he said. How the hell can he know any of that?

  Now is not the time to play twenty questions with him, so I manage a small smile. “Thank you.”

  “Anything to make you happy,” he whispers before he leans forward to brush his lips over my cheek.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Graham

  Finally, all of those long-winded minutes to our staff meetings came in handy.

  I carted a stack of them home with me last week, and since then, I’ve been reading them over each night before I fall asleep.

  It’s not because I find shoptalk fascinating.

  That’s a lie.

  I’m always willing to reread anything about profits rising, but that hasn’t been my focus since I started combing through the documents Trina judicially types up after every staff meeting.

  I honed in on the small talk that typically takes place before the meetings officially start.