Page 104 of Extreme Romancing in Idaho

So far, I’d kept my mouth shut. Part of me didn’t agree this was the greatest move; the other part was plumb chicken. Ironically, after a summer helping her lie, I understood that Angie appreciated blunt honesty.

I squirmed under her scrutiny. “Sit down. Eat.”

Placing two slices of bacon, a healthy serving of eggs, and a full glass of OJ in front of her, I sat across from her and began eating.

She took her first bite. “Mmm … these eggs are good.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Well, I thought you would have had a chef growing up.”

“Confession.” I set my fork on my plate and wiped my mouth with the napkins I’d folded into triangles. “What you see here is the extent of my cooking abilities.”

She laughed. I’d never get tired of hearing her laughter. We finished the rest of the meal with her quizzing me on what it’d been like to grow up as a spoiled rich boy. I kept my responses light, but to sum it all up in three words … isolated, stifling, and cold. The antithesis of Tony and Nora’s home.

Her smile took on a more playful lilt to it, yet her eyes grew serious. “Hypothetically, if I were to say yes to your proposal …”

My heart stopped. Yes. Did she say yes? I pressed my hands to the table, fingers spread wide, not daring to say anything or interrupt.

“… Papa can’t leave his bed. Would you be opposed to getting married in his room tonight?”

I jerked my head toward her. “Tonight?” From single to married in one day. Sure, I could man up and do this for her. But tonight? I forced myself to swallow, to take a breath. Certain my neck would be sore from the whiplash I’d given myself, I continued, “You’re sure. You don’t have to make this decision right now.”

If she didn’t find out about the sale until after our marriage … it’d be annulled. I couldn’t go into this marriage with a big lie hanging between us.

“I want to marry you, Remington JamesCockrellthe Third.” She leaned over our breakfast and kissed me.

She tasted of oranges. Her teeth toyed with my bottom lip; then she pressed her lips against mine once again. Allowing her tongue to delve into my mouth, tentatively exploring and growing bolder the longer the kiss went on, I reveled in every detail of her: sweet, strong, courageous, smart, talented, determined Angie. And she wanted to spend her life with me.

But all for the wrong reasons.

I broke free from her lips. “Maybe we should wait to make this big of a decision.”

“Wait?” She fell back into her chair.

“Why do you want to marry me? Because you love me or because Tony is dying?”

Leaning her elbow on the table, she dropped her head into her hand. Not a good sign for me.

“If I marry you … when I marry you … I want it to be for the right reasons. I don’t want to have the marriage that my parents have. Two strangers living separate lives, used for the political and financial benefits, but not the intimacy of it.”

Birds sang outside on the sapling tree that’d been placed in the center of the green lawn, caught in the quiet. Shafts of sunlight cut across the table, glaring off my fork.

“So, you won’t do it?” Angie finally asked.

I flinched at the pain in her voice. I’d do anything for her. “Is this that important to you? You’d risk marrying me so your father can be there?” I tried to pass it off as a joke, giving a half laugh and lightening the mood.

“You’re not half bad. I mean, you’re no Hemsworth …” She raised her eyebrow at me and smiled in the most seductive way, then grew serious. “Please, Remi,” she whispered.

Who the hell cared about the reasons she wanted to marry me anyway? This was the biggest risk I’d ever taken, but even if I had a one percent chance of a happy outcome with Angie, I’d take it.

“Well then, after serious reconsideration, I’ve decided to accept your proposition,” I said in my best business voice. “See my man on your way out, and he’ll fill you in with the details.”

She tilted her head back and laughed. “I have a feeling I’ll be laughing a lot more with you as my husband.” Grabbing her empty cup and mine, she walked toward the fridge. “And yelling a lot more.” She smirked. “You want some orange juice?”

“Sure.”

Husband?I pushed down my rising panic. I loved Angie and I thought she loved me. We wouldn’t have the same relationship my parents had. It wouldn’t happen to us.

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