Page 125 of The Proposal Pact
“I know.” Clover nods in acknowledgment that she returns with a saccharine sweet smile that hides pure danger behind it.
Honestly, I’m not sure who I’m scared of more. My brother or her.
“Well, at least one of us knew about the other.” My brother’s voice hard and low.
“Vas.”
“Feel free to continue that story you were about to tell me.” He crosses his arms.
I clear my throat. “Um, well, I’m married. To him.” I point at Clover. “That’s the story.”
“Riveting,” my brother deadpans. “How long? How did you two meet? Does he want you for your money?”
“What money, Vas?” I sigh.
“Oh, I don’t know?” He flings his hands up, his famous temper showing quickly. “Maybe you’ve also won a lottery in secret and that’s what this is about. Or”—he suddenly stops, his face grows ghostly pale as his eyes drop to my stomach—“are you pregnant? Did you get my little sister fucking pregnant?”
Clover winces. “Okay, please remind me to apologize to Griff and Julie when we see them the next time. This is not pleasant at all,” he tells me, and I send him a glare and turn to my brother.
“Theè mou! No, Jesus, I’m not pregnant, and no, I didn’t win the lottery.”
“How about I make us some coffee?” Clover asks.
“I second that,” Kira calls out.
“Clover, you’ll be late for work. You should go get ready.”
“I’m not going to work today, little menace,” he informs me, pressing his lips to my temple as if that was obvious and I bite my lip, trying to hide my relief.
“And what is it that you do?” Vas asks him.
“Clover’s the sheriff here,” I say quickly and proudly.
“Sheriff, huh?” Vassar purse his lips. “Let me guess, you met while arresting her?”
Clover let's out a laugh that he tries to mask with a cough, but fools no one, least of all my brother who runs his tongue over his teeth and shakes his head.
“Thought so.”
“To be fair, I didn’t arrest her that time,” my dear husband adds, making the situation even worse as Vas’s brows hike up.
“Thattime. So how many were there in total?”
“Just once.” Clover’s lips tip up, watching me with such warmth my cheeks heat, remembering that evening, my drunk fountain dancing, and I wonder if he’s been hiding something else from me about that night to make him remember it so fondly, by the looks of it.
“And what? You decided to get married to a complete stranger after you met once, twice?” Vas asks me.
“And so what if I did?”
Vassar sighs heavily, running a tired hand over his face. “Witch, where are you? I think I’m about to have a heart attack.”
“I’m right here, Vas, and I think you’re being a touch dramatic.”
“Me?” He whirls at her. “Me? I’m being dramatic, not your sister-in-law who keeps acting like a child without thinking!”
“I am not a child! When are you finally going to see that?” I yell.
“When you finally start acting like one,” he yells back. And then the Greek kicks in.
