Page 50 of Smitten with the Single Dad

“It’s not permanent.”

He shrugged. “None of us are permanent if you stop and think about it. Nobody gets out of life alive.” He headed for the door. “For what it’s worth, I don’t know you very well, but from what I do know, I think you would be a great addition to our family. We have a movie star and a doctor, but not an engineer yet. I mean, it’d be cool if you were a lawyer too. In-house council is always a bonus.”

That made her snort. “I dunno, I think Gabrielle is a beast I’d hate to go up against in court.”

“That whole family is a beast,” he murmured. “Especially her cousin Raina.”

“Oh?”

He rolled his eyes and growled, his hand on the doorknob. “Never mind. Gabrielle is an ice cube, but if she can help you, then that’s great. I’m happy to see her able to put our families’ differences aside and be professional.”

“Your families have problems?” Was Gabrielle going to wait until the last minute and screw over Vica as a way to screw over the McEvoys? Did Vica need to find a new lawyer?

“Not really,” he said, scratching his neck. “I mean, everyone is vying for this plot of land on the island. We want it to expand our business. We want to put more cabins, plant hops, and maybe build a pavilion for weddings and stuff. But Gabrielle and her cousins want it too because it’s apparently primo grape-growing land since its south-facing. Myla, and her orchard and cidery friends, want it too. Though, I don’t know why. And the guys who own the distillery want it as well. Everyone wants it.”

“And is it to the highest bidder or how is it decided who gets it?”

“The best proposal wins. The island elders will select who gets it. It will be bequeathed from a will or something. I dunno. All I know is an old dude died and just to stick it to everyone one last time, he decided to do some weird-ass Hunger Games shit and make us fight for the land, giving the deciding votes to more super-old people who like to dance naked around a bonfire on the solstices.”

Vica’s brows shot up her forehead. “What?”

He waved his hands to dismiss her. “If you stick around the island, you’ll realize most of the people here are batshit bananas.”

“Batshit bananas?”

“Crazy. Nutso. Off their freaking rockers.”

“Off their freaking rockers?”

“Raina is the worst though. That’s Gabrielle’s cousin. She’s doing whatever she can to swing the island elders votes her way. She visits them, cleans their gutters, and who knows what other shit. It’s despicable.”

“Okay.”

His sneer told a different story though. Yes, he was frustrated with this woman, but there was a glimmer in his blue eyes that said he had more than just contempt for this woman.

How curious.

“Anyway, I’m glad Gabrielle is helping you. Just … be wary if you meet Raina. I wouldn’t put it past that woman to carry a knife with her at all times, just so she has one on hand to drive into someone’s back if the mood should strike her.” He opened the door, only to reveal Justine and Brooke on the other side.

Brooke’s hand was raised, poised to knock. “Oh! Perfect timing.” She had a bunch of dresses thrown over her arm, as did Justine. “We come with dresses for you to try on for the wedding tomorrow.”

“That’s my cue,” Jagger said. “Good luck tomorrow. And hey, welcome to the family.”

Justine and Brooke rushed inside.

“I … I do not need to dress up. It’s not a real wedding,” Vica protested, craving a hot shower so she could rid her body of all the sweat and grease, and whatever else from the day.

“That’s ridiculous,” Justine said. “It will be legally binding. A real wedding. And it needs tolookreal. It needs to be convincing, so when you have that immigration interview, you can show them the picture and how madly in love with each other you are.”

Brooke was already heading upstairs. “Let us play Barbie. Come on, Vica. Time to get dressed for your wedding.”

Vica hung her head and followed. “Fine. But can I at least have a shower first?”

“Good idea,” Justine said, right behind her. “I can smell you from here and you smell like a french fry.”

CHAPTER NINE

Even after a shower, being forced to try on twelve dresses, and drinking two glasses of wine, Vica couldn’t sleep.

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