Page 15 of A Chance for Us
I mentally slap myself. This is Devney’s ex, and I lost my fiancé fewer than twenty minutes ago. I should be devastated, not thinking about shoving my tongue down Oliver’s throat.
No, this is a mission that has to be successful.
I walk toward him.
When I get to him, my hands start to shake. While I know why I’m asking this of him, it’s not easy.
I smile, hoping to hide my nerves. “Hey, Ollie, it’s good to see you.”
He shifts his body to the right. “Yeah. Hey, Maren.”
He looks just as uncomfortable as I feel. God, it has to be hard seeing Devney for the first time since they broke up. Maybe he still loves her.
Shit. I miscalculated.
Well, if he does, it doesn’t change the fact that I have to ask him if he’ll do this for me. I need him to help me make my father’s last wishes come true and trust that we’ll get everything fixed after.
“It’s been a long time.”
I’m stalling. I’m really not sure how to say this.
“It has. How are you?”
Here’s my opening. Not wanting to wait another second, I decide to say it all now. “Well, not so good. I . . . I have a problem, and I think you’re the only one who can help me.”
He blinks. “Me?”
I nod.
“How can I help?”
I bite my lower lip before saying, “I need you to marry me.”
There I said it. Now to pray he agrees.
Five
OLIVER
I’m clearly losing my damn mind. “You what?” I ask.
“I need you to pretend to marry me. It doesn’t have to be official, but, well, I have no groom, and I need a groom to get married,” Maren sputters.
“I’m confused.” I’m lucky I can get these two words out. Between her being a walking wet dream and her asking me to marry her, my brain is fried.
Oh, and then there’s Devney, who I haven’t seen in years, standing thirty feet away. Yeah, totally not firing on all cylinders.
Maren smiles, and my heart trips over itself. I shut down the idea of feeling anything for this woman because there’s no way in hell I’m going there. I’m done with women and their bullshit.
But, God, she’s something else.
“My fiancé, Oliver, decided that marrying me wasn’t really what he wanted to do as of now . . . or ever.”
“You’re here to cancel the wedding?” I ask, knowing full well she asked me to pretend to marry her.
“That would probably be the easier thing, but you see, my father is dying. He’s been sick for a really long time, and about six months ago, the cancer came back. He was fighting—Lord only knows why because I would have given up a long time ago—until a few days ago when the doctors told him the treatment wasn’t working. He’s . . . there’s nothing else they can do other than let him die without pain. He told me all he wants is to have the memory of walking me down the aisle, and now . . . he won’t.”
The desire to agree rises high. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
