Page 13 of Attached At Heart
Fuck.
He didn’t understand. If I could have picked any man under the sun to fake-marry for a year, it would have been Blake. But there were reasons I never said anything about it to him.
“Correct.”
Blake narrowed his eyes on me, but he didn’t say anything more than, “I see.”
The waiter returned, interrupting me before I could say anything further to explain myself. I tapped my fingers on the pristine white tablecloth as Blake ordered a cut of meat I didn’t recognize, and then I hurriedly ordered the first thing I spotted on the menu because I hadn’t even had a chance to look at it. I hadn’t seen Blake look at it, either, but knowing him, he’d probably checked it online before we came and already had the whole damn thing memorized.
I felt his eyes settle back on me when the waiter left, and I took a deep breath before leveling him with a look.
“You don’t want to marry me, Blake London.”
His brows lifted in surprise at that, as though I had said something utterly shocking and not the simple truth of the matter.
“I’m your friend,” he said as soon as he recovered. “Friends help friends when they need something. You need a husband for a year. I happen to not have a wife. I don’t see what’s so wrong with the idea.”
“Because,” I said, trying not to grow frustrated with him when I knew he was just trying to help me. “You can try to hide it all you want beneath that big brain?—”
“I’ve never heard you give me so many compliments in one day, Lane. Are yousureyou don’t want to marry me?”
“—and teasing grin of yours, but I know you’re a romantic softie who wants a wife to settle down with,” I finished, ignoring him.
“I mean, I believe I just askedyouto be my wife.”
I rolled my eyes. “Arealwife.”
He leaned forward and flicked my arm before brushing his fingertip to my wrist and lightly circling the bone there.
“You feel real to me.”
“That’s—” My words descended into a growl of annoyance that hopefully covered up the way his touch made me shiver. “That’s not what I meant.”
Blake chuckled, and his hand dropped to the table next to mine.
God, he was irritating sometimes.
“I’m beingserious, Blake.”
He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “Right. Serious. You’re very serious today, aren’t you?” He took another sip of his wine before smacking his lips lightly and adding, “It’s just you called me a romantic softie, and it’s pretty hard to take you seriously when you say ridiculous shit like that.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I damage your street cred?”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not the hopeless romantic you seem to think I am.”
“The twenty dating apps you’re on with the bio ‘looking for someone to build a life with’ could have fooled me.”
“I do not havetwenty, Jesus Christ.” Blake shook his head while muttering, “She stalks my dating apps but doesn’t want to marry me.”
“Yes,” I said before going on to clarify, “I don’t want you to give up a year of your life that you could be using to meet someone who you really want to marry. Like,actually. Someone you can start a family and build a life with. I can’t ask you to make that sacrifice for me.”
Blake shrugged. “I need a break from the dating scene anyway. It wasn’t getting me anywhere.”
“You don’t need to do this for me,” I said more forcefully since it wasn’t getting through his thick skull and into that big, or so I thought, brain of his. “I can’t ask this of you. It’s way too much.”
“Well.” Blake paused, tapping his finger on the table thoughtfully. “Maybe I want to. Because maybe I want you to get that inheritance money just as much as you do. After all, you want to start your own cardiac clinic. And I just so happen to be a cardiologist, too.”
“You want to…” I cocked my head to the side, unable to keep the surprise from my voice. “You’re interested in the clinic? But your plan has always been to?—”
