He removes his glasses slowly. “Sit down,” he orders me. I’m taken by the seriousness of his tone. By how it’s contrasted with the vulnerability I see every time he’s not hiding behind his glasses. “Why the change of mind?” he asks when I’m back in my seat.
“It’s the right thing to do,” I blurt.
“Was that the hot topic at Gossip Night? What, did they send you here as some kind of sacrifice?” The bitterness in his tone is hard to miss. “Let me guess, they’re worried about the store?”
What’s with him? “Get over yourself, will you. We’re all in this mess together. No one wants the general store sold to some chain, or this house turned into god knows what. The Callaways are part of Emerald Creek. Why didn’t you tell me the other night what was at stake? I would have said yes right away. So yeah, thank god for Ms. Angela. And she spoke to me privately, if gossip is what you’re worried about.”
He rubs his eyes. “After you left the wedding, I realized how messed up it was to ask what I asked from you. It feels wrong, and I’m sorry.”
I sit up straight in my armchair. “What’s wrong is that stupid, antiquated will… or trust—whatever. What’s wrong is that you’re left fending for yourself, this whole estate, your siblings, the Callaway name and influence, and yet your stepmother is going to swipe it all from you from the comfort of her tropical island.”Heated by my own arguments, I stand and start pacing the room, the oriental rug muffling my steps.
“What’s wrong is that since your dad passed away, you’ve done a great job at keeping it all together, and now it’s going to be taken away from youbecause you’re not married. That’s insanely absurd, and I just can’t stand there and do nothing about it.”
Noah rubs his face again, then his gaze falls on me. He should stop doing that, because each time he does, there’s a flutter in my stomach that feels an awful lot like the crush Iusedto have for him. And if I’m doing the fake marriage thing with Noah, I absolutely cannot have a crush on him.
I have my limits, and here they are.
“The man who will have you as his wife will be a lucky bastard, and I hate to be doing that to you.”
That stupid stomach flutters again from the compliment. “Doing what?”
“You said it the other day. The being divorced.”
“I’m never getting married for real, remember? Besides, that’s something that matters in your world, Noah. Not in mine.” I’ll be lucky if I find a guy decent enough to stick around if he knocks me up. Not that I plan on letting that happen to me, but just as a figure of speech.
“Now how’s that for antiquated talk? We all live in the same world, Willow. There’s no right or wrong side of the tracks anymore. No family where divorce is more or less frowned upon.”
I snort, stop my pacing, and plant myself in front of him, arms crossed, shaking my head. We do live in different worlds.
He studies me, a question in his eyes, then defiance flickers in his gaze. “How much?”
I turn to face him. “How much what?”
“You must have a number in mind.”
My skin goes numb. Surely I heard him wrong.
“Fifty thousand? A hundred? I’ll need a little time to free up more than a hundred K if your price is higher.”
My stomach bottoms. I didn’t hear him wrong. For a heartbeat, I’m a kid again discovering the ugliness of adult life. “I’m not for sale.” My words come out wooden.
He pales and stands, moving to a darker corner of the room, where a glass-and-brass cart holds several expensive-looking bottles. He pours himself a generous amount of amber liquid in his now empty glass of water. “That’s not how I meant it. But we’re entering an agreement. Unless we both benefit from it, it’s not a contract.”
“I’m not gonna walk away from it.” Voice shaky, I add, “You think money will tie me down?”
The shadow of a smile plays on his face.Godhe’s handsome, even if I feel like slapping him right now. “Clearly not. I was wrong again when it comes to you. Guilty as charged.”
His words settle me down, but I’m still rattled. This is exactly what I didn’t want, but it’s too late to back away.
He swirls the alcohol in his glass. “Then what’s in it for you, Willow? Besides all this nonsense about saving Emerald Creek. What do you want?”
“It’snotnonsense! I don’t do things because I want something in return. I do them because they’re the right thing to do in that moment. Is everything in your world transactional?” If I can’t bring myself to ask for money, how do I convince this hot nerd to fake marry me in order to save my hometown, if he doesn’t think that’s a valid enough argument?
He’s quiet. Not a good sign.
I change tactics. “Oh all right, then. Truthfully? I just want the vampire room.”
He takes a deep breath and narrows his gaze on me. I expect him to laugh me out of here. Or to tell me that his family is sick and tired of all the rumors; that he should have seen me coming.
