All or Nothing at All
Page 57
“No. All Becca needs to know is we want to be together as quickly as possible. And I want her to have my name. She’s a Pierce, and our marriage will make that official. The wedding will be simple, just family. I think it’s important she’s involved and a part of it. We can get married next Saturday, and I’ll set up everything to get you moved in.”
She shook her head, fists digging into her temples. “Stop it! You’re doing it again. Moving forward with plans without even consulting me. I am not getting married a week from now during one of the biggest jobs I’ve ever headed, and I happen to like my house. I don’t want to move here. It doesn’t belong to me.”
He grasped for patience and kept his tone even. “I know it’s moving fast, but we have no choice. Do you really want to stretch out a long engagement? It’s a small town. There’ll already be gossip—dragging this relationship out too long will hurt Becca. I also refuse to move in with you before we’re married.”
A small groan of distress escaped her lips. “I didn’t think about the gossip,” she said in a small voice. “Damn small towns for their nosiness.”
“It’s bound to happen. The quicker we get married, the faster talk will die down. As for the mansion, it just makes sense. I don’t want to bully you, but it is Becca’s heritage and has tons of space. I know it’s a bit stuffy for you, so you can change anything you want. Hire a designer or do it yourself—it doesn’t matter to me.”
“It was your mother’s house, and I loved her. I don’t want to take away any of her memories.”
He quickly hardened his heart against the surge of tenderness. Knowing how much Sydney respected his mother’s space touched him, but he kept his face impassive. “She hated the formality of the house, but my father insisted it be a model for our work. I think she’d love you putting your own sense of design into these rooms. You both had similar taste.”
She nodded, but she looked like the shock had begun to hit her. Tristan knew the best course of action was to forge ahead like in a battle, refusing to let her think about things too long. The quicker he made plans and shot down her objections, the quicker he’d be living with his daughter full-time.
“How can we hold a wedding before Morgan’s? This is crazy. I refuse to take the spotlight off her. She’s worked so hard to make her wedding perfect.”
“Morgan will understand. Our wedding won’t compete. We’ll get married here at the house and have a small reception with just family. Simple and tasteful. No big party or church needed. There’s no reason we can’t have it on Saturday. I can contact everyone. If you want a planner, we can hire one.”
She chewed at her lip. “No, there’s no need. I can have it catered by the Italian deli here in town.”
“I think Raven may want to do it.”
“I don’t want her to be working. She’s family.”
“Fine. I’ll leave the details to you, but if there’s any issues, let me know. I can cover you at the site for an afternoon if you want to take Becca dress shopping.”
He tamped down on his annoyance at the green tint to her skin. Was marrying him so horrific to her? She’d married another man who was practically a stranger rather than tell him the truth. Had she really believed he wouldn’t have wanted the baby?
He pushed aside the disturbing thought. “Let’s make sure Becca knows we’re excited about this new life we’re about to embark on. There’s no reason to let her sense any stress.”
Her chin snapped up. “I know how to take care of my daughter,” she practically growled.
He took a step toward her and ate up her space. Lowering his head, he studied her rapidly panting breath, parted lips, and big green eyes. Already he felt his dick harden and the overwhelming need to back her against that wall and punish her by using that sweet body until he’d wrung out all his frustration and anger. But that would open up the path that led to emotion and a deeper feeling he couldn’t seem to fight around her.
He was done.
He’d marry her. He’d treat her like a wife. He’d eventually fuck her.
But he’d never let his heart open to her again.
“She’s my daughter, too,” he ground out. “You’re not running the show any longer. Any decision regarding Becca will involve me, whether you like it or not.”
Furious tears stung her eyes. “Why are you being so ruthless? So cold? It doesn’t have to be like this.”
He drew back, retreating behind the familiar wall of ice. “You did this to both of us with your lies. This is the only way it can be.”
She rose on tiptoes, jabbing her index finger at his chest. “Back off. I’ll agree to marry you for Becca’s sake, but don’t you dare take a righteous attitude with me. I’ve been protecting her since day one, and you never gave me any reason to trust you with the truth. Not the way you treated me.”
He growled, reaching for her, but she spun out of his grip. “You’d better rethink your interpretation of the past. Is that how you lived with yourself these past seven years?”
“If you keep acting like a coldhearted bastard, I’ll take my chances on a legal battle rather than marrying you. Think about that.”
He didn’t have time to answer.
She marched off without a glance back, leaving him alone in an empty bathroom.
chapter seventeen
I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.” She watched the man who was now her husband lean over and press a hard kiss to her lips. It was formal, brief, and cold.
Just like he was toward her.
She forced a smile at her daughter’s burst of clapping and delight, trying to focus on the good things. Becca had been living in a dream. The past week had been a blur of activity with little sleep. A group of movers showed up on Monday morning with instructions to pack and organize her entire house in a few days to move into the mansion. Charlie and Tristan rallied to give her two afternoons off to buy dresses and arrange catering, flowers, and the wedding cake. She barely saw Tristan. Instead of the sitter, he picked Becca up from school, made her dinner, and left promptly when Sydney returned home late from work.
They’d been able to play up the excitement and busyness of the wedding, but Sydney worried once the smoke cleared, her daughter would pick up on the crackling tension between them.
She shook her head, fists digging into her temples. “Stop it! You’re doing it again. Moving forward with plans without even consulting me. I am not getting married a week from now during one of the biggest jobs I’ve ever headed, and I happen to like my house. I don’t want to move here. It doesn’t belong to me.”
He grasped for patience and kept his tone even. “I know it’s moving fast, but we have no choice. Do you really want to stretch out a long engagement? It’s a small town. There’ll already be gossip—dragging this relationship out too long will hurt Becca. I also refuse to move in with you before we’re married.”
A small groan of distress escaped her lips. “I didn’t think about the gossip,” she said in a small voice. “Damn small towns for their nosiness.”
“It’s bound to happen. The quicker we get married, the faster talk will die down. As for the mansion, it just makes sense. I don’t want to bully you, but it is Becca’s heritage and has tons of space. I know it’s a bit stuffy for you, so you can change anything you want. Hire a designer or do it yourself—it doesn’t matter to me.”
“It was your mother’s house, and I loved her. I don’t want to take away any of her memories.”
He quickly hardened his heart against the surge of tenderness. Knowing how much Sydney respected his mother’s space touched him, but he kept his face impassive. “She hated the formality of the house, but my father insisted it be a model for our work. I think she’d love you putting your own sense of design into these rooms. You both had similar taste.”
She nodded, but she looked like the shock had begun to hit her. Tristan knew the best course of action was to forge ahead like in a battle, refusing to let her think about things too long. The quicker he made plans and shot down her objections, the quicker he’d be living with his daughter full-time.
“How can we hold a wedding before Morgan’s? This is crazy. I refuse to take the spotlight off her. She’s worked so hard to make her wedding perfect.”
“Morgan will understand. Our wedding won’t compete. We’ll get married here at the house and have a small reception with just family. Simple and tasteful. No big party or church needed. There’s no reason we can’t have it on Saturday. I can contact everyone. If you want a planner, we can hire one.”
She chewed at her lip. “No, there’s no need. I can have it catered by the Italian deli here in town.”
“I think Raven may want to do it.”
“I don’t want her to be working. She’s family.”
“Fine. I’ll leave the details to you, but if there’s any issues, let me know. I can cover you at the site for an afternoon if you want to take Becca dress shopping.”
He tamped down on his annoyance at the green tint to her skin. Was marrying him so horrific to her? She’d married another man who was practically a stranger rather than tell him the truth. Had she really believed he wouldn’t have wanted the baby?
He pushed aside the disturbing thought. “Let’s make sure Becca knows we’re excited about this new life we’re about to embark on. There’s no reason to let her sense any stress.”
Her chin snapped up. “I know how to take care of my daughter,” she practically growled.
He took a step toward her and ate up her space. Lowering his head, he studied her rapidly panting breath, parted lips, and big green eyes. Already he felt his dick harden and the overwhelming need to back her against that wall and punish her by using that sweet body until he’d wrung out all his frustration and anger. But that would open up the path that led to emotion and a deeper feeling he couldn’t seem to fight around her.
He was done.
He’d marry her. He’d treat her like a wife. He’d eventually fuck her.
But he’d never let his heart open to her again.
“She’s my daughter, too,” he ground out. “You’re not running the show any longer. Any decision regarding Becca will involve me, whether you like it or not.”
Furious tears stung her eyes. “Why are you being so ruthless? So cold? It doesn’t have to be like this.”
He drew back, retreating behind the familiar wall of ice. “You did this to both of us with your lies. This is the only way it can be.”
She rose on tiptoes, jabbing her index finger at his chest. “Back off. I’ll agree to marry you for Becca’s sake, but don’t you dare take a righteous attitude with me. I’ve been protecting her since day one, and you never gave me any reason to trust you with the truth. Not the way you treated me.”
He growled, reaching for her, but she spun out of his grip. “You’d better rethink your interpretation of the past. Is that how you lived with yourself these past seven years?”
“If you keep acting like a coldhearted bastard, I’ll take my chances on a legal battle rather than marrying you. Think about that.”
He didn’t have time to answer.
She marched off without a glance back, leaving him alone in an empty bathroom.
chapter seventeen
I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.” She watched the man who was now her husband lean over and press a hard kiss to her lips. It was formal, brief, and cold.
Just like he was toward her.
She forced a smile at her daughter’s burst of clapping and delight, trying to focus on the good things. Becca had been living in a dream. The past week had been a blur of activity with little sleep. A group of movers showed up on Monday morning with instructions to pack and organize her entire house in a few days to move into the mansion. Charlie and Tristan rallied to give her two afternoons off to buy dresses and arrange catering, flowers, and the wedding cake. She barely saw Tristan. Instead of the sitter, he picked Becca up from school, made her dinner, and left promptly when Sydney returned home late from work.
They’d been able to play up the excitement and busyness of the wedding, but Sydney worried once the smoke cleared, her daughter would pick up on the crackling tension between them.
