“Hello, this is Drew Ashford, I’m uh, with Winston? I’m his person? Or, half of his people?”
I hid a giggle at his inability to name himself as a caretaker. But who was he calling aboutmytortoise?
“Oh, is that so? Excellent, that’s wonderful news. I just wanted to let you know that we’ll be picking him up towards the end of the day. Is that okay on your end?” He listened for a moment. “Perfect, See you then.”
He hung up and punched at the screen again.
“Hold up, you called my vet?” I walked closer to him, scowling at his presumption. “Why are you scheduling my pickup? I was planning to get him this morning. What are you even doing?”
He help up a finger to silence me then dialed someone else.
“Hey, Derrick, I need you to do something for me right now. Research and purchase everything required for a premium desert tortoise habitat. What’s the maximum size, and find out the kind of stuff they need, like, do they need a water feature with running water? And what kinds of plants do they like? Find out absolutely everything needed for a habitat that exactly mirrors what they would have in the wild, then buy everything and have it installed at my place by COB today.” He went quiet for a moment. “Obviously cost isn’t an issue, but the timing is. ASAP, got it?” Another pause. “Thanks.”
I was now directly in front of him and staring with my mouth hanging open. “What the hell are you doing? Are you planning to kidnap my tortie?”
The corner of his mouth kicked up. “I wouldn’t dare keep the two of you apart. No, I’m kidnappingbothof you.”
He moved past me to look out the back door at my yard.
“Excuseme?”
“Okay, now I understand,” he muttered as he surveyed Winston’s space. “That’s a nice little set-up, but mine will be better, I guarantee it.”
I reached for the blind thinking that pulling it down right in front of his face would be a dramatic way to get his attention, but it pulled off the frame and clattered to the ground at his feet.
“My point exactly,” he said as he gestured to it. “That’s why you and Winston are moving in with me for the duration of this faux engagement.”
He walked away like he considered the conversation was over—as if everything he’d said had made complete sense and I wouldn’t have any follow-up questions. Or maybe he was trying to put a perimeter between us because he knew this firecracker was about to explode.
“What?” I shrieked.
He turned back to me wearing a bemused smile. “You heard me. Start packing.”
“I’m sorry, why would you even think that this is a reasonable idea?” I sputtered at him.
“It might not be reasonable, but it’s logical,” he shot back. “You’ve seen what Dorian is like. Can you imagine how bad it would look if he started poking into our backstory and discovered I was letting you live here when it’s this much of a mess?”
That stung—but as much as I wanted to snap at him, I couldn’t. Because he was right. Itwasa mess. And maybe if it was just me, I could have dealt with the mess, but did I really want to bring Winston home to this and risk him getting hurt again?
“Think about it. What kind of fiancé would I be if I allowed my one true love to navigate such a huge challenge like a total house reno on her own? To let you live in an active construction zone instead of with me? My fiancée needs to be treated with the utmost respect and care. I want her to be comfortable and looked after, so that means abandoning this mess and moving in with me. I have plenty of space.”
As much as I hated conceding to him, he had a point. But moving in with him felt so extreme. It was going to be bad enough working with him, but going home with him every night?
That was alotof togetherness for two people who didn’t actually like each other.
At the same time, though… the way his expression went all soft when he talked about caring for his fiancée? Sure, it was all fake, but it felt like there was a grain of truth to the emotion behind it. Like, I could believe that that would be exactly his approach if he was in a situation like this with someone he actually cared about. Notme, of course. But someone.
“Fine.”
He chuckled. “That’s it? ‘Fine’?”
“Well, I’m certainly not happy about it.”
“Oh trust me, you will be once you see the place.”
I snorted at him. “I’m not worried about the house itself, I’m worried about dealing withyou.”
“Come on,” he teased. “You’re my treasured fiancée! You’ll be just fine, sweetheart.”
