Page 23 of The Marriage Deal
DONE DEAL, BABY
BRIGGS
Ican see the bright pink of her sundress through the window of The Tasty Rise. The woman does subtly like a bullet to the gut. Which isn’t usually my thing, but for some reason I can’t take my eyes off her.
I see her everywhere, worst of all when I close my eyes. I’d tell myself it’s because I’m using her—we’re using each other—but I’ve never been one for lying to myself. I know I want her. I just don’t know why.
I understand the attraction. The woman is beautiful and vibrant, and I imagine she tastes like life.
I just don’t understand the draw. The allure of her makes little sense. I’ve always been drawn to consistency and predictability. The woman is about as predictable as the ocean waves during a storm.
“Gotta go. I’m here.”
“Does that mean the plan’s a go?”
“It’s a go.”
“I’ll be heading your way soon then,” Nash tells me. “Don’t figure you want me crashing with you and the new wifey, eh?”
“Don’t call her that.” I pull off my hat to drag my hand through my hair only to settle it back on. “And, no, you’re not crashing with me. Not because of her, but because I vowed, I’d never share a living space with you again. Once was more than enough.”
Nash laughs. “I’m not that bad.”
“You’re a pig.” He knows I say it with love. He also knows it’s true.
“You’re just OCD.”
“I’m particular. I like order.”
“OCD.”
“There’s a hotel in town. I’m sure they’d be more than eager to take you and your mess on.”
“Come on, man. We’re like family.”
“No.”
Again, Nash laughs. He’s always taken joy in poking at my peculiarities. I’ve always taken joy in pretending like it doesn’t bother me. Riles him up good. The prick deserves it.
His laughter dies and he asks the question that throws ice on pretty much everything. “What are you going to tell Shana?”
Shana. The best woman in the world. My mom.
“I’m going to tell her I fell head over boots in love.”
“You’re going to lie to her?”
“I’m not tellin’ her I propositioned the sweetheart of Sunset Falls to be my fake wife.”
“Paid.”
“What?”
“Paid, not propositioned.”
Hell.I feel my back teeth grind. I wonder if Nash can hear it through the Bluetooth. “It’s a business arrangement.”
“You keep telling yourself that, man.” My eyes can’t help themselves as they slide once again to the woman in the pink dress on the other side of the window. She’d been scribbling in a book with a pink pen the last time I’d allowed a glance at her, legs swinging from where they dangled on the high stool. Now she’s laughing at something the man I’d since learned is her adopted brother, says to her.
