We’re leaned side by side against the counter, each drinking our own ginger ale, when he can’t hold his tongue any longer.
“Okay, spit it out. What’s going on with you and Jules?” He wipes a hand across his sweaty forehead and his eyes bore into me. “Why does it feel like you two are trying to prank the rest of us?”
Ugh. Why won’t he just let it go?Annoying younger brothers!
“Because our marriage is a business deal!” I roar before I can stop myself.
My now-smirking brother angles his body to face me, fully invested in my story. “Well,thisI have to hear.”
“Look—this stays between the two of us, okay?” I demand before proceeding to spill my guts.
He throws up his free hand in surrender. “Okay. My lips are sealed.”
My shoulders drop on a huff. “Jules is expecting some money from her family,” I explain. “But she needs to be married to cash in. That’s why she needs a husband. Temporarily.”
“And you. What’s in it for you…?” Rocco asks.
“I, well…um…”
“Yes…?” My asshole brother rotates his wrist in a speed it up motion.
“My business won’t survive much longer if I keep doing things the way I’ve been doing them,” I start. “I’m trying to close a merger with a bigger sports agency in order to tap into a larger well of resources. But the owners don’t want anything to do with me because I don’t have a wife.” I shake my head, hating that I find myself in this position. “It’s all bullshit.”
Rocco huffs out in surprise. But before he can ask the million questions that are swirling in his head, the front door pops open.
We walk out into the foyer and find Jules and Laney dumping garbage bags of clothes at the bottom of the staircase.
Jules meets my stare with wary eyes. “We’ve got a few more things in the car,” she says hoarsely before returning outside with Laney on her heels.
I take the initiative, hauling garbage bags upstairs to my bedroom. My brother follows after me with a pile of bags in his arms. My pulse throbs in my throat when an engine groans out. Through the window, I see Laney’s rusty 1990s Corolla bumping off down the driveway. Rocco and I are busy stacking the bags in the corner of the room when Jules appears in the doorway.
Her eyes go wide and her footsteps grind to a halt. She looks around at the pile of documents sitting on the armchair by the window, the book and the water glass on the bedside table, the cologne bottle sitting on the dresser.
“Is this…yourbedroom?” she croaks out.
I swallow as our eyes meet. “Yes.” I give my head a shake. “Well,ourbedroom now, I guess.” I search her stare, trying to gauge her reaction. “Is that okay?”
My bedroom is pretty big, fully furnished with a king-sized bed, dresser, side tables and sizable armoire. But suddenly, it doesn’t feel big enough for this woman, this tension and me.
Jules smiles. It’s forced. “It’s good. Great. Amazing,” she says quickly.
She trips on her own feet when she starts backing up. She looks like she’s about to run. In fact, she does just that.
“I’m gonna go, uh, for a jog.” She jabs a thumb over her shoulder. “Need to, um, exercise. Exercise is so important.”
Before I can say a word, she spins on her heel and takes off down the stairs.
In a heartbeat, the front door opens and shuts, then Jules is hightailing it down my driveway like she’s the subject of a police manhunt. Biker boots and all.
“Dayum. This whole thing is crazy.” Rocco chuckles as we watch Jules go. “For the past two years, you’ve vowed to never get re-married. Now, here you are engaged to a woman who clearly can’t stand you. The universe has a dark, dark sense of humor.”
“Tell me about it,” I groan.
He claps me on the shoulder then he strolls toward the exit. “Good luck big brother. I have a feeling you’re gonna need it.”
23
JULES
