“I didn’t know what it entailed.”
“You didn’t ask.”
I glare at her. She smiles sweetly like she’s made of gingerbread and pure malice.
“Besides,” she adds in a low voice, “you’re lucky the bidder wasn’t Doris Whittaker.”
I shudder. Doris is ninety-two, still wears red lipstick, and once pinched my ass at the post office. Then my mind travels back to Harper sitting in that green dress, eyes wide. A much better outcome. Not that I’m thinking about it. I’m not thinking about it.
I definitely don’t feel the warm slide of relief in my chest that it was her. I definitely don’t feel the pull of attraction tightening somewhere low in my gut. And I don’t feel the instinct to straighten my flannel and stand a little taller.
Nope. None of that.
“This is a lot,” I say tightly. “For one week.”
“It’s for charity,” Janice reminds me.
“It’s for my land.”
“Exactly,” she chirps. “And it’ll be fun! Harper seems lovely.”
Lovely is one word. Dangerous is another. There’s something about her that hits me in places I sealed shut years ago. Places that have no business waking up.
Janice pats my arm. “You’ll meet her officially in a moment. We’re doing winner introductions backstage.”
“Introductions,” I echo.
“Smile!” she commands.
I glower.
She beams. “Close enough.”
The crowd outside roars with laughter at something. I drag a hand over my beard and exhale slowly. One week. One woman. One fake marriage. One ridiculous itinerary. One honeymoon suite.
I can survive this. I have survived worse. Not much worse, but worse. And if I catch myself thinking about Harper’s blue eyes again, well … I’ll blame it on the stage lights. Or the cold. Or oxygen deprivation. Or anything except the truth.
This is something I don’t want to deal with. Something I’m not ready for. But I will do this. I’ll get through it. I’ll grit my teeth and bear every cozy couple activity on that cursed list.
For the land.
I square my shoulders, inhale deeply, and follow Janice toward the back wing of the stage.
Time to meet the woman I’ve just been … sold to.
God help me.
Chapter 5
Harper
The moment Janice ushers me backstage, I seriously consider faking a fainting spell. Or a medical emergency. Or temporary amnesia. Anything to avoid what’s coming.
Ruby, naturally, is having the time of her life. She elbows me as we walk behind the stage curtain. “Okay. Breathe. Shoulders back. Don’t say anything too weird.”
“I always say weird things,” I whisper miserably.
“True,” she says. “But tonight, maybe try not to.”
