Page 18 of Pin-up Girl

6

aubrey

My brain was going to explode.

Before it did, I should probably figure out if I was doing to kick Brodie in the balls, or find out of if he fucked as well in person as he did over a headset.

In the last five days, Sylvie had come up with a guest list, designed basic digital wedding invites, sent them to everyone in our family and her fiancé’s, and talked to Ravyn with me about using Ravyn’s yard for the ceremony and reception. I’d asked Brooke too, but she had other plans that weekend.

And now the family was starting to show up. I wasn’t as ready for this as I thought—and I had known I wasn’t ready for it.

Grandma had always come down harder on me than my sisters and cousins, and I didn’t know why. She hated that I was single. Tattooed. Wore revealing clothing. Hadn’t picked a career—at least not according to her—and to be a housewife. Had a little extra weight in the rear.

She seemed to hate me for everything.

Would she come around if she knew I had both a husband and a fiancé, as of this week?

Sure. That would make her love me. Not.

I wasn’t telling anyone I was married to Clint, and neither was he. And looking at Brodie in the middle of my shop, as he watched me, it was impossible to miss how gorgeous he was.

Yeah, I recognized him when he walked in. We went to school together. He was older, with the faintest hints of silver showing on dark hair at the temples, but he had the same kind face and deep brown eyes I could lose myself in. He’d kept in shape. He was the perfect height for me to have to tilt my head just a little, to make eye contact.

And his forearms were doing wicked things to sleeves that were rolled up a couple times.

Besides, he was in an industry I followed, and everyone knew his name. A pioneer. An innovator.

If he was the man I’d been talking to online—which I assumed because he had that same voice that made my panties damp just thinking about the things he’d said to me over the past few years—he knew more of my secrets than almost anyone. Possibly more than even Alys or Evie or even Clint.

Maybe.

“So, what do you say?” His question dragged me out of my head. “Fake marry me?”

The question felt familiar. As if someone had said something similar just a few days ago. Imagine that.

“I’ll be fake engaged to you.” That difference felt important right now.

“I’ll take it.” He kissed me on the cheek.

Were we this intimate already? It was both jarring and comfortable, and my brain didn’t know how to process the conflict. Last time I saw Brodie, he was Clint’s boyfriend. If that didn’t make this entire mess even more confusing…

I needed to put some distance between us. I moved behind my counter, and fiddled with the lock that hid some of my more expensive jewelry.

“Are you all right?” Brodie asked.

“Fine. Totally fine. All good. Perfectly fine.”

Absolutely insane was what I was. As the seconds ticked away, the absurdity of this entire situation sank in. Rather than slip into that hole of confusion, I grabbed one of my favorite vintage rings from where it rarely saw the light of day.

It was European cut diamond—rectangular—with alternately stepped sapphires and diamonds down each side, all set in platinum.

I slipped it on my ring finger and turned to show Brodie. “There. Like a proper couple.”

“It’s pretty. I would have bought you one, though. I still will.”

I wrinkled my nose. “No. You’re not spending money on this. It’s only for a month, and we’re not telling anyone we don’t have to.”

“If people see the ring, they’ll ask questions.” He didn’t sound like he had a problem with that. How was he taking this all so well?

---