Hitched: Volume Three

  Hitched

  Volume 3

  by Kendall Ryan

  Hitched (Volume Three)

  Copyright © 2016 Kendall Ryan

  Developmental Editing by

  Alexandra Fresch

  Copy Editing and Formatting by

  Pam Berehulke

  Cover design by

  Hang Le

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes only.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Table of Contents

  About the Book

  Praise for Hitched

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Epilogue Two

  Coming Soon

  Stay Connected

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other Books by Kendall Ryan

  About the Book

  I’ve ruined everything. I’ve broken the cardinal rule and fallen in love with my fake wife, and then I went and did the worst thing a husband can do.

  Winning her back will be nearly impossible, but I’ve never backed down from a challenge before and I’m sure as hell not about to start now. Olivia will be mine, and I can’t wait to put a bun in her oven.

  You won’t want to miss the final installment in Noah and Olivia’s love story, and especially the way this over-the-top alpha male wins over his bride once and for all.

  Praise for Hitched

  “I’m literally in love with Hitched. The irreverent humor, fun storyline and intriguing characters enchanted me immediately and I was hooked. I mean really, when a book has a chapter with only the two words being “Game on” (right after the chapter where Noah pulls his big boy parts out in a swanky bar) you know this is going to be a fun and funny read! And Ms. Ryan didn’t disappoint . . . she kept me cracking up the entire read! I’m salivating for the next installment!” —The Romance Reviews

  “Fun, flirty and steamy, Hitched will have you addicted from the first word! Kendall Ryan delivered big time, I’m practically salivating for more!” —Angie and Jessica’s Dreamy Reads

  “Kendall Ryan strikes gold in her latest super star, Hitched, a romantic comedy spiked with steam, anchored by angst, and flooded with feelings.” —Bookalicious Babes Blog

  “Charming, swoony and playful, Kendall Ryan’s Hitched left me salivating for more. More Noah, more Olivia, more of this series which already has my heart all aflutter, my smile perma-pinned to my face, and my mind aching for answers.” —Give Me Books

  “Hitched was a perfect non-stop read! I read it in one sitting, and laughed so many times my belly ached. It’s a fun, romantic read with a light-hearted story that made me ache for more when I finished.” —Jacqueline’s Reads

  “Hitched will grab you hook, line, and sinker from the very first page. Olivia is a little bratty and Noah is a whole lot cocky but that dynamic makes for a sexual tension that I can tell is going to explode in the next two installments. And while this isn’t your typical friends-to-lovers type of story, the shared history between the two adds a surprising depth. The steam level is heating up and once you pick it up, you won’t want to put it down.” —Love Between the Sheets

  Chapter One

  Olivia

  The feelings I’m developing for my new husband have startled me in their depth and intensity. Our marriage was only supposed to be a legal agreement—a business arrangement meant to appease the stakeholders. But we’ve quickly become something much more.

  I stretch my arms overhead and let out a soft sigh. His vacated side of the bed is still warm and I roll over, soaking up the remnants of his body heat.

  Sometimes I can still hardly believe it. I feel like a new Olivia, relaxed and fun and optimistic. The silly smile perma-fixed to my lips? It’s crazy. Of course, it could be because Noah is thoughtful and kind and generous in bed . . . and hung like a damn elephant. That last part is just icing on the cake. I almost giggle.

  If I have to be fake-married to anyone, I’m glad it’s Noah. These last few weeks, we’ve really bonded, grown closer than I ever thought possible. I trust him, depend on him, and have finally started to let my icy exterior melt a little. And did I mention the great sex?

  Speaking of sex, though . . . God, where is he? He was supposed to be getting a condom from the bathroom, but that should have taken about forty-five seconds, and I’ve been waiting forever for him to come back and ravish me.

  With an impatient huff, I swing my legs over the side of our enormous bed and pad barefoot and naked down the hall. The bathroom door is mostly closed, but I give it a gentle nudge and it swings open.

  Noah is standing in front of the sink, stark naked. A condom packet in one hand. A small but sharp-looking silver needle in the other.

  What the fuck?

  I don’t even notice I’ve gasped until his head jerks up.

  My heart plummets.

  Noah’s skin is pale and he stares at me with wide, almost wild eyes. Does his expression come from guilt, or is he just startled and confused? I don’t know which is worse.

  I recoil back into the hall, my hand pressed to my mouth. No, no, no . . .

  He looks down blankly at what’s in his hands, as if he has no idea how those things got there, then hurls it all into the sink like it’s burned him. “Olivia . . . w-wait, it’s not, I wasn’t . . .” he calls.

  But I’m already running away, my breath tearing from my throat in sobs.

  Not even five minutes ago, he was talking about how good it would feel to fuck me bare. Trying to tempt me into going without a condom. I thought he just wanted the intimacy—to get closer to me, to join together without barriers, skin on skin. But he was after something else. And when he couldn’t convince me to give it to him . . . he was going to take it.

  What in the ever-loving hell is going on?

  Everything has suddenly clicked into horrible clarity. This explains why he’s seemed subtly off—sometimes restless, sometimes a little too still—ever since we dealt with Brad. I sensed something but I couldn’t put my finger on the feeling, so I dismissed it as me being paranoid and reading too much into meaningless stuff. I figured he was probably just stressed from work and worried about the company’s future.

  Turns out my gut instincts were right all along. He was lying to me. And not just any old lie . . . he was trying to put a baby in me whether I wanted one or not. I shudder, thinking how close I came to disaster. If I hadn’t barged into the bathroom just now, if I’d waited even one more minute . . .

  But why in God’s name would he even do this? The Noah I know is hardly a family man, dying to settle down and have kids.

  Then again, I obviously don’t know him as well as I thought I did.

  I rush to the bedroom and yank on the first clothes I see—the sundress I wore to the spa today, the sundress Noah just peeled me out of. I need to cover myself up. My nudity suddenly isn’t sexy or intimate anymore. I’m just exposed, and I can’t be naked in front of a stranger.

  His footsteps come close behind me. “Snowflake, let me explain.”

  “Get away from me!” My voice cracks in
to a near shriek. I hate the sound of it, hate how upset I am, how much power Noah has over my emotions. I want to roar, not whimper. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you out of your fucking mind? What explanation could you possibly have for . . . for doing that?”

  “I wasn’t actually going to do it.” Noah grimaces as the words rush out, like they scrape his throat coming up.

  “Do what? Secretly poke a hole in your condom so you could sneak your fucking sperm into my uterus? Because that really seems like what you were doing!”

  “Will you just listen to me for a minute? I only considered it because I was desperate. And I hate that the thought even crossed my mind. I could never actually—”

  “Why were you desperate? What the hell are you talking about?”

  I need answers. All of them. Right the fuck now. And all he’s giving me is nonsense babbling.

  With a heavy sigh, Noah rakes his hand through his hair. He looks bitterly angry, but not at me—his expression is turned inward.

  “Come with me. You need to see something . . . something I should have showed you a long time ago.” He pulls on a pair of drawstring pants, seemingly not wanting to be naked any more than I do.

  Noah offers his hand but I don’t take it. I don’t want to touch him right now. After waiting a moment, he lets his arm drop and turns away.

  I follow him to the living room, where he picks up his briefcase leaning by the armchair. As he flicks through its tabbed folders, he asks, “You’d do anything to save this company, right?”

  I furrow my brow in irritated confusion. “Of course I would. But what’s that got to do with you trying to knock me up?”

  He finds the file he wants, flips it to the second-to-last page, and thrusts it into my hands. “Here. Read this section.”

  I recognize this document. It’s the inheritance contract we signed on our wedding day. “Why are you showing me something I already read? I know what it says.”

  “No, you don’t, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.” Noah points again at the section he wants me to see.

  With a quiet huff, I start reading below his finger, skimming faster and faster and I grow more annoyed.

  And then I see what Noah is talking about.

  After being wed, Noah Tate and Olivia Cane agree to consummate their marriage and produce an heir. The resulting pregnancy should occur within ninety days of this executed agreement.

  My heart stops. “W-we have to produce an heir?” I yell.

  Noah nods grimly. “Our inheritance isn’t final until we have a baby, or at least until we show a positive pregnancy test as proof that one is on the way. And until then the company is in their hands.”

  “The board has absolute power,” I mumble in disbelief. “We just have a seat like any other board member, one vote among many. No special considerations for being owners.”

  “Exactly.” He slips the document from my trembling hands and turns it to the last page. The one that bears my name in my own curly handwriting.

  And that just adds insult to injury—knowing that I, of my own free will, signed this fucking thing. I bound myself to these ridiculous, awful terms without even knowing what I was doing.

  My stomach twists with the urge to be sick. Of all the legal documents that have ever passed through my hands, this is the one I sign without reading. Because I thought I knew what it meant. I trusted Dad and Prescott to give me all the information I needed. Hell, I trusted Dad and Bill Tate not to stipulate crazy shit in their wills in the first place. And I trusted Noah to bring any problems to my attention.

  Blood thunders in my ears and I sway a little on my feet. “So that’s what this is about? Trying to cement our control of the company?”

  “I thought our inheritance was only contingent upon marriage at first. Then I saw the heir clause on our wedding day—well, our first one—and that’s why I thought you ran off. But when you signed the contract, I figured you knew what you were doing. It took me about a week to realize you had no idea what you’d signed yourself up for. And then I just didn’t know how to bring it up. Everything was going so well . . . with the company, and with us too. I didn’t want to ruin it by saying something carelessly. I was waiting for the right words, the right moment.”

  I can’t keep my mouth shut and listen to Noah defend himself any longer. I’m in no mood for excuses right now, and a million other more important questions are racing through my brain.

  “But how . . . why? Why would our fathers do this?” My voice shakes with confusion, horror, and a fresh wave of outrage. I press my hands over my mouth again, as if that can stop my emotions from gushing out and splattering all over the snow-white carpet.

  “Because they knew just as well as I do that we’re meant to be together. And not in some fake marriage, some act that’s all about publicity and business, but the real thing. A relationship that will stand the test of time.”

  Are you shitting me? I shake my head in disbelief. “I can’t. You lied to me. Our fathers lied to me.” I can still hardly wrap my head around the truth. Their betrayal—there’s no other word for it—is just too staggering.

  “Technically, they didn’t. You just didn’t read the . . .” Noah wisely trails off when I shoot him daggers with my eyes.

  I suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly. All of a sudden, I feel like I’m deflating. Everything that makes me Olivia Cane is draining away.

  “What should we do now?” Noah asks.

  “How the hell would I know? I’m done.” My voice is flat—too quiet, too steady.

  He blinks at me owlishly. “What?”

  “I said I’m done. I’ve had enough of all this shit. Close down the company, sell it off, do whatever you want. I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

  This heir clause is one sacrifice too many. I’ve worked so hard and given up so much for Tate & Cane Enterprises. I let everything else in my life come second. I spent so many hard years in school and at my father’s right hand. So many long days and late nights. I gave Tate & Cane my soul; I came close to giving Noah my heart. I can’t give them my body too. Not to mention the next eighteen years of my life, until the kid grows up.

  So my only option is just . . . leaving. Leaving Tate & Cane, leaving Dad, leaving Noah. I’ve had enough of men’s control to last a lifetime. I’m sick of letting everyone except me dictate my destiny.

  Noah’s mouth drops open. “You can’t . . . you don’t really mean that.”

  “Don’t you dare tell me what I mean. You don’t get to make any more decisions on my behalf.”

  That kind of paternalistic bullshit is exactly why I’m so pissed. Noah decided one thing after another about an issue that would totally change my life. He assumed how I’d react to the heir clause and decided that I couldn’t be trusted with the truth, so he decided to keep me in the dark, and he almost decided me right into an unplanned, unwanted pregnancy.

  And I had no fucking clue what was going on. I just went about my life, blissfully ignorant, thinking everything was fine, when all the while, Noah was hiding such a huge problem from me. Taking away my power to decide anything for myself. At best, he was a stupid, cowardly prick; at worst, he treated me like some kind of clueless pet, trapping me into a life I don’t even know if I want.

  Now he has the balls to stand here and look me in the eye and say a single solitary word about what’s best for me.

  Blinking back tears of rage, I whirl away from Noah and back to the bedroom. I start throwing clothes and toiletries into my suitcase, the same little maroon suitcase I brought to sleep over at our new penthouse. I still remember that first night. It wasn’t so long ago, but it feels like a different life. I had been on the edge, unsure of how I felt about Dad’s wedding gift, and Noah had calmed my nerves by welcoming me with sweet, hot kisses . . .

  So stupid. I’m always so stupid. To think I was actually starting to hope. To get attached to Noah, to trust him, to think of myself as part of an us. I thought I’
d learned something from the hell I went through with Brad, but I guess not.

  Fate really is a cruel bitch. What are the odds of being so unlucky? I’ve only had two relationships in my whole life and both of them were disasters. Have I been wearing a big neon Take Advantage of Me sign on my forehead or something?

  This time, at least, I nipped things in the bud before any real damage was done. I may have wasted a couple of months on Noah, but that’s a lot better than the two years Brad sucked out of my life. And it’s not like I’m in love with the dickhead, right? At least I’ll be able to cut him out of my life after a quickie divorce . . . or so I tell myself.

  With my suitcase packed, I grab my purse and blow past a shocked Noah, leaving behind the place I was just starting to call home.

  Chapter Two

  Noah

  I’ve spent the last two days sitting in my dark apartment, drinking until I can’t feel anything anymore.

  But it hasn’t worked, because I still feel every emotion that was written on Olivia’s face when she found me in the bathroom with the condom and the needle. Betrayal, disgust, the ultimate pain. I hated myself for inflicting pain on her like that. I swore I’d never hurt her. I meant every word of those vows I said to her that day on the beach. But now those words mean something even more.

  Olivia isn’t just my crush anymore, the girl I wanted to play house with. She’s become my everything. She’s the woman who’s won me over against all odds . . .

  And I’m just the douche who betrayed her.

  “You realize what this means, right?” Sterling asks.

  “What?” I snap. I’m not even sure why I invited him over. All he’s done so far is annoy me.

  Oh, that’s right. I didn’t invite him. After I’d gone AWOL from work for two days, he bullied his way inside the penthouse, saying he was staging an intervention.