The differences between men and women were never more obvious than with Jack freaking Campbell. He was naturally muscled, from his work Riley assumed, hard muscles that bunched and released when he moved to do even the smallest of things. Riley could see why men would want Jack. He wondered if Steve had been there— wondered what other men had been there. Added to that Jack had the clearest, deepest, sky blue eyes, the tightest ass and those kiss me right the fuck now lips, the lips Jack was biting on as he closed his eyes and laid his head back with his iPod buds in his ears.

Riley just stared, unable to concentrate, the last two days slipping past his contemplation of bitten lips. What his brother had said to him that morning spun in his head.

He had avoided Jeff all week, especially now with the whole wedding thing filling his waking hours, but today he had gone to the office. He had memos to pass on, reports to collate, and never trusted the details of what he did to his secretary.

"Lisa wants you to stay at home on Saturday."

Riley looked up. It wasn't often that his brother even came to this floor, let alone actually visited the map office itself.

"Saturday?" He blinked up at the only man he knew who was taller than him. Jeff was slick-sharp in a gray suit, even at six-thirty on a Monday morning. They had never been close, but gut-churning anger flew through Riley, just as it had every day he'd seen his brother since that fateful meeting with his dad.

"Alex's birthday. He says he wants his Uncle Riley there."

"I'll be there." Riley paused, climbing to his feet, brushing imaginary dust from his jeans. "Question is— will you?" Jeff didn't even begin to reply to that one. It was doubtful he would be there. He always had just the right excuse to be missing for one of Lisa's family parties.

"Why were you scrabbling on the floor?" Jeff finally asked, although he wasn't expecting a reply. He simply laughed softly as Riley sent him a look of disgust. Jeff knew Riley spread the maps on the floor, knew sitting cross-legged gave Riley the chance to look at the land layouts and the geo data that much easier. It was a constant source of amusement to Jeff that Riley spent so much time on the floor.

"Fuck you, Jeff."

"Whatever, little brother. I have things to do, people to fire, deals to finish… Later."

Deals to finish. Those three words soured Riley's already grim mood. The deals sitting on Jeff's desk included geo searches and advised land purchases that Riley had sourced, from research and work that Riley had undertaken. All of that was to be signed off by a man who, by virtue of being freakin' married to the lush that was an ex-Miss Texas, was now holding the majority stock in the family firm. Well, he had a deal of his own, all signed and sealed and about to be delivered. But it wasn't his proudest moment.

Bile rose in Riley's throat as he sat back in the seat and closed his eyes, the drone of the jet engine annoying, not able to even look at Jack when he had these self-destructive thoughts in his head.

* * * *

Riley had promised him this whole marriage business would be quick. He already had the marriage license sorted in British Columbia, one of the places in Canada that didn't demand any kind of residency, and Jack was determined not to let this pass in a blur. He had never considered marriage, his life choices kind of precluding it, particularly in Texas. But he always imagined that one day he would find a life partner. He wanted a life partner, but only after the ranch was paid off, after his mom was happy, after Beth was well and safe— just after.

Still it was difficult to remember it all as they hurried from flight to rooms and back again. Jack remembered parts of the simple service, the words he'd exchanged, blinking down at the plain platinum band that sat on his ring finger, and up at the man beside him. Riley had looked alternatively calm and then solemn, and then just this side of panicked. Jack didn't have time to wonder what the emotions meant as they passed over his new husband's face as the taller man bent his head to place a chaste kiss on his lips. Then they moved out to a small park to pose for the necessary photos. Jack knew he probably looked shell-shocked in the pictures, and hoped that he acted the part convincingly enough to give the photos the authenticity they required for this charade. He had to keep up his end of the contract.

Riley wasn't making it easy. All through the car journey, the service and the photos, all Riley was capable of doing was providing a running commentary on the shit weather, the shit photographer, the shit venue. You name it, Riley had a problem with it. Jack, though, might as well have been invisible. It was just as well, he reflected bitterly, that there wasn't any love lost between them, or this marriage would be ending in divorce a whole lot sooner than Riley intended. As it was, he'd managed to force a smile for the pictures, digging his fingers as hard as he could into Riley's side whilst posing, just to let him know he was there. That worked. Riley pushed back equally hard as he wrapped an arm around Jack. When the photographer had finished, Riley handed over money, they signed what they needed to sign, took compliments when given, and left as quickly as they could.

All too soon they were back on the plane. Riley attached the camera to a laptop, and downloaded the twenty or so shots of their wedding as they sat waiting for clearance to take off. He turned the screen to Jack as he took his seat opposite.

Jack fastened his seat belt, loosened his tie and sighed. He didn't particularly want to look at the travesty, but he supposed he should. Reluctantly he scanned the pictures and was surprised. Some of them actually looked like genuine wedding photos. They were smiling, posing, and he had to grudgingly admit that, despite the almost childish anger he had felt at the time, they looked good together. There were some, though, where it was obvious there was irritation and distrust between them.

"The whole marriage thing, it's like some sick joke," Jack muttered. "We're fucked if anyone actually sees these."

"Well, they do need to be seen. We'll just select the best ones. It has to be irrefutable that we married for love and for no other reason. Agreed?" Riley was brisk and to the point, his eyes narrowing. He turned the laptop back and proceeded to delete at least half of the rushed photos, growling under his breath. "Jesus, would it hurt to have cracked a smile in these, Campbell?"

"What the fuck was there to smile about?" Jack instantly retorted. He wanted to say, I said I'd marry you, and I did. I would be smiling, why? But he didn't. This was for Beth and the ranch and for his family.

"The photos just don't look real." Riley worried his lower lip with his teeth as he scrolled through the photos.

"Then maybe you shoulda got married for real," Jack snapped. "Or maybe used some of your fucking money and hired a better fucking photographer, instead of using a shit camera and that Britney wannabe who was hanging around us."

Riley looked taken aback at the snarky comeback, his lips tight, and his fingers flexing on the edges of the laptop. His frown deepened with instant anger at the way Jack was talking to him. Jack guessed no one talked to Riley Hayes like that, especially not impoverished cowboys he now owned, lock, stock and barrel.

"We're both tired," Riley began with what was obviously hard-won patience. He sounded as if he was talking to a small child who needed a nap. "It's been a long day. When we get in the air, you should go an' get another shower or something, maybe calm down."