Page 90 of Playboy Pitcher
He lets out a troubled sigh and bows his head. “I don’t have a good feelin’ about this. Somethin’ still doesn’t sit right. I don’t think you should tell them.”
That breaks my armor, and I whip my head toward him, my eyes wide with shock. “You want me to try to convince them Ben and I fell in love in forty-eight hours and got married?”
There’s a brief sparkle in his eye before he glances down and shrugs. “You’re gonna do it anyway when you talk to that reporter, aren’t ya? Might as well practice.”
I gape at him. “But Ben thinks…”
Before I can finish, the conference room doors swing open and Jack the Douche Sheep lawyer nods toward me. “Willow? Everyone’s waiting.”
My stomach does another somersault as I look back at Hoyt. His weathered eyes never waver.He’s serious.Blowing out a final breath, I whisper, “Showtime.”
Once inside, a wave of relief almost knocks me off my feet when I catch a glimpse of familiar, messy dark hair sitting near the front of the table.Ben…thank God.Biting the inside of my cheek, I pull out the empty chair next to him and offer a timid smile.
One he doesn’t return.
The gray button-up shirt and black pants he’s wearing are refined and professional, a sign he’s on board and committed. And I’d believe it too, if it weren’t for his rigid frame and tight jaw.
Shit.
He seemed okay with this last night when we spoke on the phone. Not ecstatic, but not unhappy. His opinion fell more toward Hoyt’s train of thought.Lie to everyone. Spin the same story across all four corners.
However, in the end, I pulled the boss card, and as if that weren’t enough, I pulled the wife card too.
Double whammy.
Wiping my sweaty palms on my pants, I scan the faces scattered around the table. Jack and his army of sheep shuffle paper after paper, their lips pinched as tight as their asses. Ned twirls a pencil between his fingers as if he’d rather be anywhere else. Hoyt stares at me, the lines around his eyes crinkling with worry as he waits for the mistake I know he’s convinced I’m making.
“I don’t have a good feelin’ about this. Somethin’ still doesn’t sit right. I don’t think you should tell them.”
It’s only then that I stop just hearing his words and finally listen.
“Somethin’ still doesn’t sit right.”
I don’t trust them.
My gaze swings back to Jack, sitting proudly at the head of the table. My father’s lawyer. The lawyer who happily added an addendum to his will.
Suddenly, I understand the acrobatics my stomach has been performing since I walked into the building. As if hearing my thoughts, Ben glances at me out of the corner of his eye, and nods. With that simple gesture, a weight lifts off my chest. He may be pissed, and he may not agree, but he won’t betray me.
Which is why I hope he’ll forgive me for blindsiding him.
“I’m sorry,” I mouth silently. Ben’s eyebrows slam together in confusion, but there’s no time to explain.
Ned throws his pencil down. “Okay, Willow. You got us all here, now tell us what the hell is going on.”
I don’t stop to second guess myself. Grabbing Ben’s hand, I hold them up as he blinks in surprise. “We got married.”
“No shit.” He smirks. “Why?”
Asshole.
Retracting my fangs, I flash him a brilliant smile. “Why does anyone get married, Ned? We fell in love.”
Ben opens his mouth to object when I stomp his foot. “Ommmfff,” he grunts.
Jack raises an eyebrow. “You okay, LaCroix?”
He looks up to find all eyes on him. Forcing a splintered smile, he groans through his teeth, “Just overwhelmed with joy.”
