“Um… y-n…”
He doesn’t catch onto to our hesitation, just beams at us and wiggles his fingers in the air. “I can tell. You have that uh…” He swerves to avoid another car, muttering under his breath. Then he glances at us again with a larger smile. “You have thatglow. Congratulations, huh?”
“Thank you,” we both answer, looking at each other uneasily.
The atmosphere becomes heavy between us as we grasp the depth of what we just did. Of how this is going to make one big problem go away for me, but create a myriad of others for the both of us.
Willow stares at her phone, as if it has any answers for her. “If I post now, they’ll see it when they wake up, and by the timewe’re up they’ll have calmed down. And we can deal with all the comments in one shot, on our way to the airport.”
I groan. She’s right, I know she is. I was just hoping for a few more hours of peace. Once I text my siblings, chances are they’ll blow up my phone with stupid jokes. I don’t know that I have the patience right now. “Shouldn’t you talk to your mom first?”
She bites on her lip. “Shit. Yeah, you’re right.” She sighs and shuts down her phone. “Tomorrow, then.”
The next morning, she answers my knock with a tight smile. Her phone is squeezed between her shoulder and her ear as she zips up her travel bag and sets it next to the door. “Well thisisme telling you, Mom. I’m sorry it didn’t happen the way you were hoping but…”
That familiar feeling of guilt squeezes my stomach, and I clench my jaw. Willow’s mother is upset, rightfully so, and it’s creating a rift with her daughter—all because of me.Fuck.
Willow rolls her eyes at me while she’s being interrupted. Setting the phone on the bed, she does a check of the room—crouching under the bed, opening the closet and each and every drawer. Her mother’s voice is still coming out of the phone, her tone upset bordering on angry, her words unintelligible. Willow’s gestures grow snappier, the last closet door banging shut. She storms past me, goes into the bathroom and lets out a muffled growl.
Should I go in there and see what’s wrong?
Maybe not. Better to sit this one out. Her mom is still going on, and I have the feeling this isn’t the first time it’s happened. Willow seems to know her mother’s rant isn’t anywhere near done.
When Willow finally marches out of the bathroom, she picks up her phone. “Mom, I gotta hang up now. I’ll see you at home. We land tomorrow.” Without any more warning, she stabs the phone off and slides it in her back pocket. “How’d it go with your family?” she asks in a casual voice. As if all this was nothing. As if I couldn’t see the blotches on her neck, the cold fire in her eyes, the set of her jaw.
“What were your mother’s concerns?”
She frowns, pretending to be confused as if she just hadn’t been yelled at for five minutes straight by her mother. “What?” She picks up her bag.
I press on it to force her to set it back on the floor. “What were your mother’s concerns about us getting married?”
Willow swallows. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
She looks up at me, a little shock in her eyes and what looks like… maybe the shadow of a smile? She bites her lip. “Shethinks I should have told her before.” She blinks tears away, but she doesn’t look exactly sad. It’s a storm of emotions I can’t quite figure out. “She’s wrong. I don’t owe her that,” she adds in a whisper. “I know she’s my mom and all, but even though it’s gotten better recently, we don’t really have that type of relationship.” She looks at me with defiance, and I know better than to ask more. She’s opened up to me way more than a fake marriage would ever warrant, and I’m grateful to her for that.
I jump on what she said. “About that. I’ll be taking care of her medical bills.”
Willow opens her mouth to protest, but I interrupt her. “There’s no discussion,” I say, keeping my voice firm but soft. I know how she feels about this, but she needs to benefit from this arrangement as well.
Her pupils widen, and I get that surge of warmth that I always do when I take care of my family. Except now, it twists lower, settling down in my dick. “When we’re back in Emerald Creek, I’ll expect to see medical charges on the credit card I gave you.” Willow doesn’t understand how much she’s helping my family out. The least I can do is to help hers out. What I don’t understand is why this is giving me a hard-on.
“Maybe this’ll win her over,” I add.
“I doubt it,” Willow mumbles. She takes a deep breath. “But thanks.” She doesn’t sound convinced.
“So you’ll do it,” I state.
“Do what?”
“Pay her medical bills with the credit card I gave you.”
Her gaze is full of challenge. “I’m in discussions with her insurance.”
I knew it.She wasn’t going to do it. “Until her situation is sorted out with the insurance, you’ll pay the bills with the card I gave you.”
She shakes her head, goes to pick up her bag again. “It’s really not necess—”
