Page 15 of Asher

But Garrett’s shaking his head. “I haven’t agreed to anything yet,” he cautions. “I don’t like the idea of deceiving your grandmother. She’s been…” He hesitates, and I get it. Grandmother is a lot of things, including kind, but it’s not usually the first impression people get of her. She takes time to warm up to strangers.

“I promise she won’t kill you,” I assure him earnestly. I could probably stop her. And if not, well, he’ll be dead. It’s not like he’ll be able to come after me for breach of promise.

I don’t think he’s entirely convinced, so I switch tactics. “We don’t have to deceive her. We could be boyfriends for real.”

He blinks three times and then says, “Are you on medication you’ve forgotten to take?”

“No, hear me out. We get along, don’t we? And we’re definitely sexually compatible. Why can’t we be boyfriends?”

Taking a slow step back, he says, “You do know that what you’re describing isn’t a relationship, right? It’s friends with benefits. Which still wouldn’t apply to us, because we’re not friends.”

I fake hurt feelings. “We’re not? I feel friendly toward you. Why would you say we’re not friends?”

He rolls his eyes. “Stop it. I’m onto you now. You can’t manipulate me this way.”

Sighing, I drop all pretense and say, “I need this, Garrett. What will it take for you to help me?”

He purses his lips and studies me for a long moment. “I’m not insensitive to your plight,” he begins, and I press my lips together to keep from smiling. His big, fancy words are so cute. He can’t be that much older than me, but sometimes he talks so much more formally. “Unfortunately, I’m not comfortable deceiving your grandmother and everyone else by pretending we’re boyfriends. If we’re found out, it will greatly jeopardize the job I’ve come here to do. And the fact is, we can’t really be boyfriends, because we’re not.”

My stomach sinks. Dammit. This is a disaster. Not only does it mean Grandmother will have free rein to continue her matchmaking, but I’m also going to have to admit to lying to her. And drag Micah into the line of fire with me.

The memory of what Sam, Gideon’s boyfriend, suggested floats through my brain, summoned by my desperation. What did he call it… a MOC. Marriage of convenience. I’ve dismissed it as ridiculous, but… is it?

“Marry me,” I blurt.

He takes a step back, shock written all over him. “What?”

“Let’s get married. That will give you a position as part of my family, and Grandmother will go out of her way to make you feel welcome. It will definitely prevent her from trying to set me up with anyone else. And since we really will be husbands, you won’t need to lie about it.” It’s the perfect solution.

“You can’t be serious.” He’s staring at me like I’m insane, but… is that a tiny spark of interest?

Maybe I’m imagining it, but I push on anyway. “It would let us maintain this charade without the same degree of dishonesty. I get my year of reprieve—possibly more—and you get to work within this community as a family member. The only other way you could get that is for me to adopt you.”

He doesn’t laugh, dammit, but that spark is definitely there.

“What do you imagine the marriage would entail?” he ventures cautiously. “It sounds all shiny and perfect, but marriage is a legal commitment. I can’t tie myself to someone I barely know without having some ground rules in place.”

Yes! I resist the urge to fist pump, but I’ve got him now. He’s shown interest in my proposition—all that’s left is the negotiation, and that’s my field of expertise.

“A business arrangement only,” I assure him. “I can have the paperwork drawn up. We agree to marry, keeping all our assets separate, making no financial claim upon each other, for a minimum of one year or as long as both parties are happy to continue. For all intents and purposes, in the eyes of the world, we’ll be married and will behave as such.”

He nods slowly. “And, er… I understand demons have a ceremonial marriage ritual that takes place privately. Would we be taking part in that?”

What… an unexpected question. But given how casual he’s trying to look, I’m guessing this is a big selling point for him. Which makes sense, him being an anthropologist and all. “Yes, if you don’t mind. It would be hard to explain why we didn’t. But it’s a simple thing.” Basically just a repetition of vows. Seizing the opportunity, I add, “There are some other ceremonies and rituals you’d need to attend as a member of the family, too. The autumn equinox and midwinter are the next two.”

His eyes light up, and I’m pretty sure I’ve won. If he wants private demon rituals and customs, I’ll dig up every single one I can think of. It’s cute how excited he seems about it.

“What about sex?” he blurts, and my chest seizes. Does he mean…?

Reality crashes in on me. “We can have sex,” I assure him, and then wince. “With other partners,” I add hastily. “I’m not saying I expect you to… service me. But we would be allowed to pursue other partners. Discreetly.” I shudder to think what my parents and grandmother would say if they found out I’d cheated on a spouse. I’d be better off admitting to the lie.

“No,” he says flatly, then shocks me by adding, “a sexual relationship would be part of our marriage—for as long as both parties are happy to continue. Should that cease, terms of sexual activities with other partners can be negotiated. But if you’re fucking me, you’re not fucking anyone else.”

I… wasn’t expecting that, but fucked if I’m going to say no. I nod and clear my throat. “That seems… fair.” More than fair. Amazing, actually. “So… are we really doing this? Getting married?”

He looks me in the eye and nods. “We’re getting married.”

CHAPTERSEVEN

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