Page 24 of The Marriage Deal
My attention focuses back on Nash when he drawls, “I think you like the woman.”
I stiffen. “The town likes her. She’s a hot mess.”
“I’ll bet she’s hot.”
I scrub my hand down my face, biting back a possessive growl I have no business feeling. Only—maybe I do. She is to be my wife, after all. A husband would be, to some degree, possessive of his wife.
“Nash,” I warn. Then I cool it. “My mom has nothing to do with this. In her eyes, this marriage will be real.”
“Dude,” Nash says seriously. “You’re getting married for business.”
“People get married for business all the time.”
“Jesus, you’re a stubborn horse’s ass.”
I can’t help my chuckle. “She needs this deal just as much as we do.”
“I don’t need it bad enough to see you shackled to a woman you don’t love. Man, this is messed up.” He mumbles something about me being the steady, reliable one. “I’m supposed to be the batshit crazy one of us.” I’m grinning until he adds, “Let me marry the girl. I’ll take one for the team.”
“Don’t.” One word. Tone low.
Nash stops laughing. “Is there something you’re not telling me, Briggs?”
“Nope.”
“Sure sounds like it.”
“Funny. I’m starting to think I tell you too much.”
“You like the woman. You really like her.”
I bristle under the weight of his accusation. “The woman is going to be my wife. I’ll treat her with the respect I’d treat any woman who takes my last name, real or not. Until this deal is done and we sign the papers to part ways, I’ll treat her like I’d treat any woman I made mine. I’ll treat her the way my mother taught me to treat the woman I bring into my life.”
The way my slimy father never bothered to treat my mom.
There’s silence and then Nash says hesitantly, “All right, man. Whatever you say.”
“I say I’ve gotta go. For real this time.”
“Right, you’re meeting the wifey.”
I don’t bother telling him to stop calling her that. Nash will do what Nash does. “Yep.”
“I never got that pic of her.”
“You never will.” I lean forward to disconnect the call, but not before I hear him return, “Don’t matter. I’ll see for myself soon en?—”
I cut the call and curse aloud. Then I exit my truck and stroll for the café.
The bells jingle, but she doesn’t look. She never looks, but the man she’s with does. I don’t miss the curious narrowing of his gaze as it lands on me. I wonder if she told him about our dinner. I wonder how much she told him. We’d vowed complete secrecy. But the way he’s eyeballing me now, I’m not so sure she kept to her side of the deal.
Oblivious to the shift of his attention, Lilah keeps yapping at him. As I come closer, I realize she’s telling him about a pup who needs a home. Probably one of the brood I’ve seen tugging her around town.
The man doesn’t look swayed by her attempts to needle his heart. Good for him.
I’m not sure, struck by the same wide-eyed look of hope that slams into the poor guy from under those long lashes, that I’d be as unmoved.
“Alder.” Her adopted brother, Dakota, lifts his chin in greeting. I can’t help but size him up. The guy isn’t in the pink Tasty Rise shirt and jeans he’d been in the lasttime I’d seen him here. Today, he’s sporting an old white T-shirt and worn jeans.
