Page 31 of Icing the Enemy

“It’s Mr. Beech, the asshole. I saw him at Bryce’s wedding talking to the lawyer. I wouldn’t have known they were talking about me if I hadn’t seen him coming out of Mr. Gould’s office before my appointment. I freaked out.”

Guilt twists in my stomach, thinking about how I fled the wedding without even talking to Corbin. Looking at him in this moment, I know it was the wrong thing to do. A night of celebration for his friends turned into a nightmare for me and complete embarrassment for Corbin. My life unraveled when I realized my father was in the same room, and neither of us knew the other. I felt so betrayed. But I stuck the knife in Corbin’s chest when I humiliated him. I can’t change that, but this arrangement can help both of us.

He seems to be mulling it over. Corbin Shearer is a man who thinks things through, except for picking up a girl and her dog at a truck stop. “I’ve always liked him. Why don’t you try getting to know him, then just ask for that clause to be taken out of the contract?” His knees are pointing in opposite directions and after he takes a long swallow of his beer, he rests his hands between his knees. “I think it would be better for you if you just talked to him. I can’t be in a fake, loveless marriage. My parents have been married for thirty-two years. Besides, my sister would kill us both.”

“Why would your sister care?”

Lines of contemplation stretch across his forehead, but then his face softens, “Because she loves me, and I told her everything that happened from Buc-ee’s to the police station. You met her at the bar.”

“Becca is your sister? She’s so tiny, and you’re so tall.”

“That’s her, and she does not like you—at all.”

I hop up, grab my cross-body purse from the kitchen island, and my voice climbs to a new decibel level when I say, “It’s fine. Forget about it.” I hightail it out of his house.

“Oakley,” he calls from the front door. “Let me take you home.”

“I’ll survive like I always have.”

What made me think he would help me after what I did to him? Well, because not so deep down, he’s one of the good ones. He drives me crazy. I mumble to myself, “Why is nothing easy for me?”

When I’m about a half mile from his house, I hear the slapping of tennis shoes against the pavement. I glance over my shoulder, hoping it’s not a mugger. Of course, it’s not, I’m on the good side of town—it’s Corbin.

“I’ll do it.” He stops, resting his hands on his hips.

I’m not sure I understand. “Do what?”

“I’m tired of all the negative publicity. I’ll marry you under strict rules.”

I cover my nose and mouth with my hands in disbelief. Tears prick my eyes. “You will?”

A tremendous weight lifts from my chest when he nods. He’s going to marry me. I’ll be able to pay my bills.

“Only if you meet my conditions.”

Corbin Shearer can’t resist rescuing a damsel in distress, but I need to remember he’s getting something out of this too.

“And what are those?”

“Let me take you home, and we’ll discuss on the way.”

We walk back up the street to his house. He runs inside and comes back out with keys. He presses in a code on one of the garage doors. The door lifts, revealing a BMW convertible.

“Are we taking that?” I point to the navy-blue BMW. “Because, in my neighborhood, if left for any amount of time, it will be stripped.”

“Aww, is the little thief worried about me?” He gives me a half-smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t be staying.”

Clicking the remote, he unlocks the door and as soon as he sits his long legs in the small sports car, he puts the top down. It has gray leather interior and all the bells and whistles, satellite radio, and seat cooling. Since it’s late summer, this comes in handy. I push the button to see how it works and instantly feel the cooling effect on my butt and back of my thighs. “Ooh,” I yelp.

Out of the corner of my eye, I get a glimpse of him grinning.

“Put your address into the navigation,” he says after punching a few buttons.

We ride in silence for a bit before he clears his throat. “Do you want to know my conditions, or will you just agree blindly since you need this more than I do?”

“Yeah, right.”

His lips flatline. “We date for a week. Spend time together every day, in public. Gradually let them see public displays of affection which will cause a firestorm of publicity.”

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