“And?” I say, a master at hiding my excitement.
She shrugs out of her leather jacket and balls it up in her lap. “And…maybe it’s not a bad idea. This whole marriage thing.”
“Hmm.” I frown, pretending like this is all her idea. My brothers are always telling me I have a killer poker face, and it’s serving me well in this moment.
I’m a professional negotiator, and I have a strong suspicion that the only way this marriage thing will work is if Jules thinks she’s in control.
Besides, I kind of want her to beg and plead her case a bit. Her “I faked it” comment earlier bruised my ego. A little groveling is the least she could do to make it up to me now.
“Go on…” I say, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to pretend I’m not riding on a wild rollercoaster of emotions as I sit here, staring at her.
“Well, I was thinking, a marriage between us might work. I mean, none of it would be for real—not to us, at least—and we’d only have to stay married just until we both get what we want,” Jules lays out her case, her voice cracking. This moment of vulnerability is rare for her, and I’m secretly enjoying it.
“How?” I mutter.
“I’m supposed to get my trust fund on my twenty-seventh birthday, which is just around the corner. But now—thanks to Great-Grandma’s ridiculous new rules—I have to be married to be eligible for it.” She rolls her eyes, and I never thought I’d find her look of defiance so cute. Bonus points since her defiance might just benefit me now.
“And what do you know about what I want?”I challenge her.
This is when her face turns a little red. “Your business partners,” she says impatiently. “If we were married, I bet I’d be able to help fast-track your business deal.”
“So basically, a marriage of convenience?”
“Um, y-yes.”
On the outside, I barely react. Inside, I’m a tornado, spinning out of control. I can’t keep up with each new thought that pops into my head. I’m busy trying to sort it all out. Trying to figure out how all the pieces will fit. Trying to understand if we could really pull this off.
Is it actually possible?
But Jules takes my silence as something else. Her expression falls.
“This was stupid,” she says, rising out of her chair, jacket in hand. “I shouldn’t have come here.”
It takes her almost leaving before my brain can finally catch up with the rest of me. “Wait!” I call out.
She pauses, standing in front of my desk, uncertainty swirling in those pretty brown eyes.
I don’t waste any more time, yanking open my desk drawer, reaching all the way to the back until I find what I’m looking for. Then I’m holding the flimsy, cheap ring box in my palm. I pop it open.
“Fine. Let’s do it. Let’s get married.”
Her stare grows harder and harder as she realizes what just happened. “Wait. You made me beg? While knowing fully well that you wanted this all along?”
My half-grin gives me away.
“You aresuchan ass, Lincoln Raines!” She flings her jacket onto the chair and stomps her foot.
“Fair. But will you make me amarriedass?” I ask coyly, which earns me another glare.
Her arms fold tightly across her chest. “Hell no! I’m not marrying you until you propose properly.”
I don’t hesitate. I immediately drop down to one knee on my office floor, right at her feet, looking up at her.
Before I can hold up the ring again, she barks out, “Both knees, sucker!”
I feel the urge to roll my eyes, but nonetheless I readjust and find myself positioned on both knees.
“Now, crawl around a little bit,” she orders me.
