Page 20 of Just My Luck

My fist stayed clenched at my side, and I watched as Sloane jerkily lowered herself to one knee.

I stared down at her in disbelief as she said, “So... Abel King, will you marry me?”

My brain paused, trying and failing to register the question she’d just asked. Her nervous smile wobbled.

Sloane was ridiculous and charming and altogether dangerous. When I regained my senses, I looped a hand under her arm and lifted. “Get the hell off the floor. What are you doing?”

She grinned and flicked a stray piece of hair away from her face and straightened her dress. “Proposing. It’s my idea, so I figured I should be the one to get down on one knee.”

My arms crossed to keep from touching her again. “I thought this was a business decision.”

“It was—it is! You just seem like there might be a romantic hiding in there somewhere.” Sloane tapped my chest, and the contact seared through my clothes and into my skin.

This is a very bad idea.

“There’s not,” I let out gruffly.

“Okay.” She nodded and looked around the brewhouse. “Noted.”

For a moment we stared at each other. The hum of equipment was the only sound as I contemplated exactly what she was proposing.

Sloane wanted to marry me. There wasn’t a world in which a woman like her would ever hitch herself to a man like me—it was impossible. Still, there she was, offering it up like it truly was nothing but a business move.

I huffed. “I don’t buy it. You don’t even know me.”

“You’re right, I don’t, and I do think there are some things we’d need to talk about beforehand, but... come on.”She gestured toward the large brew kettles and bounced her eyebrows. “Don’t you want this to beyours?”

I did. Desperately.

Mentally exhausted, I moved toward my chair and deposited my sorry ass into it with a sigh. “What do we need to talk about?”

With a stifled squeal, Sloane’s heels clacked against the concrete floor as she gripped Meatball’s chair and dragged it toward mine. She sat facing me and crossed her legs. My eyes stayed pinned to her face despite my peripheral getting a full view of her bare thigh.

“I have questions.” Sloane clasped her hands in her lap.

“You got down on one knee andnowyou have questions?” I crossed my arms.

Her shoulders slumped dramatically. “It was agesture. But yes, I have questions.” Sloane slipped a small, folded piece of paper from the pocket of her dress. She eyed me as her fingers gently unfolded it.

I lifted an eyebrow. “You came prepared.”

“Thank you.” I hadn’t meant it as a compliment, but her sweet nature didn’t seem to register the gruffness in my tone. “First stipulation...ifwe move forward with this business deal, I need to know the details of your incarceration—not to pry, and I won’t tell a soul, but for my own safety.”

My molars ground together. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to look Sloane in the eye and admit what I had done. She certainly wouldn’t be sticking around if she knew.

Despite my silence, she continued. “Also, we would have a prenuptial agreement preventing you from accessing any additional money once we are divorced.”

My brows cinched down. “Divorced?”

She nodded. “Yeah... it’s not like we would stay married.” Her dismissive laugh landed like an anvil against my ribs. “Once we get the money and it’s settled, you’ll be rid of me. We just staylegally married until the sale is complete and construction on my grandfather’s farmhouse is underway.”

I pressed my thumb and forefinger into my eye sockets. Sloane was presenting the idea of marriage in the most simple, emotionless way possible.

It almost makes sense.

Still, something was off. She wasn’t saying it, but there were reasons other than money that she needed this to happen. I just didn’t know what yet.

The chair creaked beneath my weight. “Can I think about it or is this a one-time offer?”

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