Forever a Maverick Read online

So marriage as a solution to this little crisis was out.

  But what if she could get more than a hundred dollars?

  Juniper raised her chin and stared out the window at the bare dirt surrounding her. What if she could get enough money from Ash to get them out of here? A fresh start, away from everyone who judged her, with a good job, enough money to rent a decent house…

  She’d do anything for Owen. Certainly, she could marry Ash to secure her son’s future. Not that being married to him would be some kind of punishment. He was her age, had all his teeth, was super ripped, and—

  Juniper blinked hard. Okay, that wasn’t a productive line of thought. Money. She’d be marrying him for money.

  Her tongue went sour, and she scraped it across her teeth to get rid of the sensation. All right, maybe it did make her stomach turn to think about marrying a man for as much money as she could squeeze from him. Ash didn’t deserve to get screwed like that.

  But if she went into the relationship openly, explained to him her situation and what she needed from him, it might work. Water rights were valuable—he’d said so himself. It wasn’t wrong to ask for a fair value for them.

  It wasn’t wrong to try to get what she could to secure her son’s future.

  Juniper filled her lungs, her skin prickling. Wow, she was really going to do this. Talk to Ash, that was. She wasn’t saying yes… but she’d tell him that the answer wasn’t entirely no.

  She’d do it for her son.

  When she’d first seen Owen, she hadn’t felt the deep, soul-stirring love that other mothers talked about. Mostly she’d been terrified because he was so small, so helpless, and the nurses were giving him to her as if he actually belonged in her arms.

  But as the days flowed into months and the months became years with her boy, Juniper came to understand that love. Not all at once, not in a rush, but piece by piece. Every penny she scraped, every single thing she did without were logs to the fire of her love for Owen until it consumed her entirely. And Owen’s every smile, his every artless hug, was gasoline on the flame she carried for him.

  If she married Ash, she’d have some money to throw on that fire. Enough to keep them warm and secure for a long, long time possibly.

  With her heart aflame, Juniper went for her car.

  Ash hauled the last box into the truck bed, then picked up his clipboard with the day’s list. Today he was delivering produce boxes to the individual subscribers in town. It didn’t earn quite as much as selling to the restaurants or the local grocery, but giving food directly to families filled a need in Ash. He hadn’t become a farmer just to sell to middlemen.

  He counted up the boxes. One, two, three, four, five—all there. He checked the first name on his list—the Contreras family, with a little girl who especially loved apples—turned to check that against the correct box—

  And nearly jumped out of his skin to find Juniper behind him.

  “We need to talk financials,” she said bluntly.

  She was in jeans and a loose T-shirt, her long auburn hair caught up in a ponytail. At work, she wore black Dickies and an embroidered polo shirt, the uniform of all the waitstaff at the Ranch Kitchen. Those didn’t highlight her curves the way this did or bring out the gray highlights in her eyes. And when the sun caught her hair… He’d never known it was so red. It made him think of cinnamon and cold nights spent in front of a warm fire.

  Ash let the clipboard fall to his thigh and blinked at her. Financials, she’d said.

  There was really only one way to interpret that. But the relief he’d expected to feel wasn’t coming. Instead, his skin was tight and hot, and rather than thinking of all that water she was bringing with her, he kept thinking about the red highlights in her hair and how soft it might feel in his hands.

  That was not the way to start a marriage, if that’s what she was agreeing to here. It was probably best not to assume anything about the situation, new as it was to both of them. He didn’t know all the rules for a marriage of convenience, but he guessed that open and direct communication was probably an important one.

  Except his imaginings about her hair. That he’d keep to himself.

  “All right.” He hadn’t thought much about the financials since she’d turned him down—mostly he’d dwelled on how disappointed he’d felt, and not just about the water. “What about them?”

  He asked it to buy himself some time to think. He should have had an action plan ready or something—but when someone as decided as Juniper said no, he figured she wouldn’t change her mind.

  “I want to know what I’m getting into first of all,” she said. “Or rather, what I’m getting out of this.”

  He could respect that. There were a lot of things said about Juniper around the town—that she was a bitch, that she was cranky, that life had hardened her too fast—and Ash could see some of that. Juniper was a fighter for sure, which explained most of her brittle exterior. But there was also a surprising vulnerability to her, especially in her eyes, the gray of them soft in a way that couldn’t be solely attributed to their gentle color. That vulnerability was amplified when she spoke of her son.

  Yes, Juniper was hard. She had to be. But Ash also suspected she might be soft, especially when she needed to be. Like for her son.

  “What do you want?” he asked. He guessed money, but how much was up to her. And what was in his bank account of course. After drilling all those wells and paying the water bills, things were a bit tighter than usual.

  Her gaze flicked away from him for half a moment, like she was confused. Or flustered. Then the hardness was back. “I want to get the hell out of this town.”

  Now it was his turn to glance away, her words hitting him harder than they should have. But what else should he have expected? This wasn’t going to be a normal marriage with two people partnering for life. She didn’t have to stick around, not for him. “You need money to do that?”

  She nodded. “I live paycheck to paycheck. I’m going to need a nest egg if I want to leave the nest.”

  “How much were you thinking?” He’d let her say the first number and move on from there.

  “Well, you probably want to spend less than you would to irrigate your place.”

  He nodded. She might not be a farmer, but she understood that much.

  “If this is my only chance to sell my water rights,” she went on, “I want to make sure I get my money’s worth. Enough to start a new life, somewhere far away from here.”

  Ash was thinking something more permanent than a onetime payment. “You know we’d have to stay married for me to keep using the rights. Have you thought of that?”

  He had. And he’d thought on the family he’d wanted to make here and of the family Juniper already had—little Owen, who deserved just as much as any child Ash might have. It might not be such a terrible thing to leave the farm to him if the boy had an interest.

  But that was far, far in the future. If Juniper was so dead set on leaving, she’d probably be just as eager to give him a divorce when he asked for one.

  “I’m never getting married,” Juniper said with dust-dry humor. “So that’s no problem. What about you?”

  “Well…” Ash released his lungs, shuffled his feet. “This farm was always my first dream.” He didn’t mention that a family was his second. “Without water, this farm is nothing. So.” He shrugged, although the motion was unfamiliar. Ash wasn’t a shrugger.

  “I guess you must be willing if you suggested it.”

  “I am. I was thinking—I’d pay you maybe a lump sum this year, then some percentage from the farm profits for the entire time we’re married. Sometime in the future, I’ll be able to afford to switch water sources and we can… dissolve the marriage. Does that sound fair?”

  She cocked her head, pondering. “I suppose so if it won’t be forever. Although it feels like something out of Austen. You know, how all the marriageable men had ten thousand a year and such.”

  “Austen doesn’t seem your sty
le.”

  Her brows lifted. “And you know my style? We had to read it in school, like everyone else. All that ‘Reader, I married him’ stuff.” She dismissed the entire high school reading list with a wave of her hand.

  Ash refrained from pointing out that the line was actually Jane Eyre. “Lucky for you, you’ll already be married. So you’re safe from any fortune hunters.”

  Her eyes crinkled. “I like your sense of humor. I never knew you had one. So how much would this lump sum be?”

  Ash calculated from his bank account and what he thought she’d need to keep her and Owen housed and fed. “Ten thousand,” he said, slow enough to be half a question. It would take some arranging with the bank on his line of credit, but he could swing it. He would have had to for the water bill if she wasn’t going to marry him. “Does that sound good?”

  That caught her up short. “I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I should have researched water prices before I came here. It was kind of an impulse.”

  Juniper had never struck him as impulsive. Or prone to changing her mind. Yet here she was, red flaming in her hair as she told him she was thinking about marrying him. He might be gobsmacked by the whole situation if he let himself think about it too deeply.

  “Well,” he said, “you know what my offer is. You should take some time to consider it.”

  She took her lip between her teeth, pulling up the corners of her mouth and erasing ten years from her face. Not that it made her any prettier since she was already damn pretty to him—only more rested-looking. Less tense. “It’s just that… I’m in a bit of a bind today.” Her fingers interlaced tightly with each other, her knuckles going white. “I’m overdrawn, and I never expected it. And there’s, uh.” The line of her jaw was stark. “There’s no cushion there.”

  Jesus. And she worked so hard too. That house of hers couldn’t cost much in rent, her car was at least fifteen years old…

  “Does your car need repairs?” he asked. “Because I know a little about it and you wouldn’t have to pay me. Not even for the parts.”

  “The car is a piece of crap, but for once it’s not that. Just…” She shrugged, quick and sharp. “Something I didn’t expect. Something stupid that’s cost me one hundred dollars in bank fees.”

  She was overdrawn because of a hundred bucks? “How much do you have saved for your move?”

  “Saved? Nothing.” She began to tick off on her fingers. “There’s the rent, and the insurance premium for Owen, and the car insurance, and the utilities, and the groceries, and gas. Which of those should I cut out to save more? I don’t drink lattes.” She set her hands on her hips, her chin jutting out at him.

  “I wasn’t judging you,” he said. She really did have a short temper—here he was offering her quite a bit of money and a way out of town, and she still bit his head off.

  “Well, everyone else does,” she said without a hint of apology. “Everyone else wants to blame me for never being able to save even a dime.”

  “And now you will.” A sudden thought occurred to him. One that she’d probably hate but would help her. He held himself still, trying not to invest this next with too much emotion. “You could stay with me while you get everything together for your move and save money on rent.”

  She merely stared at him blankly. But she hadn’t outright said no.

  “You’ll be my wife,” he went on, his pulse beating hard in his wrists. “I know it won’t be a real marriage, but I’ll still be responsible for you. And Owen. I’m old-fashioned like that.”

  “Old-fashioned enough to want to share a bed?” The jut of her eyebrow was sardonic.

  He wasn’t quite that old-fashioned, but now that she mentioned it…

  His brain slipped out from under him for a second and raised the image of her hair spilled over a pillow, her gray eyes soft and welcoming, her lips curved in a smile she’d never given him. But she would once they’d—

  “No,” he said quickly, getting his thoughts under control. “But I’ve got the space, and you could use the help. Consider it part of your payment—a rent-free living situation for a few months.”

  It made perfect sense to him, but what he meant with his words and what Juniper took from them were often two very different things.

  “A rent-free roommate situation,” she clarified. “That I’ll be bringing my kid into.”

  He appreciated her caution, but it was also a bit late for that. “You’ve known me for five years, and you trust me enough to marry me. You can trust me with yourself but not Owen?”

  “It’s a parent thing,” she said. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  And he might not ever if he married her. Well, he’d better work hard to make sure this farm paid off sooner rather than later so he could get out of this marriage. But without leaving Juniper in the lurch money wise.

  “I promise,” Ash said, “you and Owen will always be safe with me.” And not only because she was giving him her water rights. Juniper and Owen deserved some stability, and if Ash could give it to them… Well, what kind of a man would he be if he didn’t?

  Juniper went still, staring deep in his eyes. So deep Ash felt as if he might fall into her gaze. Her eyes really were gray—not light blue, not light green, but a true, pure gray. He didn’t think he’d ever seen such a color in his life. It made him think of morning fog, still and soft and—

  She blinked, and Ash’s lungs seized as if he were surfacing from a dive.

  “I trust you.” There was no serrated edge to that. But before Ash could fully absorb his response to her first tentative step forward, she sighed. “But I did sleep with his father,” Juniper said. “So I’m not the best judge of men anyway.”

  The self-defeat in her voice stabbed deeper than her usual slicing tones. But Ash kept his opinion on that—and Evan—to himself. “Like I said, I’ll keep you two safe.”

  She cocked her head, the pull of her brows different from any expression he’d seen her wear before. And he’d made something of a study of Juniper’s expressions.

  She wasn’t beautiful, although she was pretty. Her face was a touch too thin, her chin and jaw a hair too sharp to make her model beautiful. But with her wide gray eyes, wreathed with a fringe of dark lashes, and her bright auburn hair, she was definitely attractive.

  That wasn’t what had caught Ash’s eye though; it was the way she carried herself. There was a purpose and drive to her, a determination that wasn’t focused on herself—Juniper wasn’t pushing herself for her own gain, which captivated Ash. But she’d never found him half so interesting as he’d found her.

  Except there might be something like interest in her face as she studied him now. “Safe?” she asked.

  “Well, I am old-fashioned enough to want to protect my wife and her child. I guess it sounds a little crazy, considering what we’re agreeing to here.”

  Juniper shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Honestly, all this sounds too good to be true—and you know what they say about that.”

  It might sound that way, but Juniper deserved it. She’d had too little of good in her life. But Ash wouldn’t frame it that way, not after her comments about trusting Evan. “Senior water rights are a rare and valuable resource. Like you said, you wanted your money’s worth.”

  “And none of this strikes you as odd?”

  Odd, yes, but… Ash ignored the rising pressure in his chest and throat. This wasn’t supposed to feel like that, like the first step to something more. “It does, but we’re both desperate here. Desperate times call for odd measures.”

  Ash was maybe more used to being called odd or stubborn or maverick-like than she was. He wasn’t that bothered by the unusualness of it.

  “I don’t know.” Her gaze caught his, and he had the sensation of falling once more. “Who the hell would agree to something like this?”

  “Hey.” He lightly brushed the back of her hand, just the once, as quick as he could. “You’re a mom who wants to make a better life for
her son. I imagine there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for him.”

  Her gaze held, tunneled deeper into his. “You’re right about that. And maybe you’re taking advantage of it.”

  Ash didn’t even bother to lie. “I am. Just like you’re taking advantage of the fact I’d do anything to save my farm.”

  “So we’re both steely-eyed mercenaries?”

  What was in his heart as he realized she was going to say yes wasn’t exactly mercenary. Something mercenary would be as hard and cold as a coin. This was definitely on the squishier side, although there was a hard core of selfish desire in there as well.

  Juniper was going to be his wife. A man would have to be made of stone not to feel a thrill at the thought, and Ash was most certainly flesh and blood.

  So although he didn’t agree about the mercenary bit at all, he still replied, “Exactly.”

  She stuck out her hand. “All right then. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Two a.m. in the diner was always an interesting time. Most people would assume a diner would be empty at that hour, but even in a town as small as Cabrillo, it never was. In her years working the night shift, Juniper had learned the rhythms of those customers.

  On Fridays and Saturdays, it was often teenagers—too young to be in a bar but still wanting a place to stay up all night. They were usually broke, so they bought one cup of coffee and drank endless refills. Most waitresses disliked them because they were loud and rambunctious, but Juniper took dealing with them as a lesson for what was to come with Owen. Not that she still didn’t wish they’d tip better and not leave a mess—sometimes she had to use her coldest temper on them to get them to not act like utter fools.

  Then on winter nights, there were the homeless folks, trying to keep warm. They were quiet and clean, unlike the teenagers, but they also usually nursed just a cup of coffee. Juniper and the kitchen staff would often give them a plate of something on the house.

  And then there was everyone else. Men coming in for a bite before they began their crack-of-dawn commute to their construction jobs. The elderly who didn’t sleep much anymore and thought nothing of having breakfast at four in the morning.