“We can get married and then the owner will give you the building and you can open the preschool. I overheard the owner speak with the realtor. You’re so close.”
My breath gets caught in my throat. Oliver has so much conviction right now.
“B-but it’s m-marriage,” I stammer. “What happens… you know… later?”
“We’ll get a di— Once everything is officially yours, then we’ll figure it out. Hell, I could give you the money, I have it.” I shoot him an unimpressed glare because I’m never a fan of flaunting, but it makes him smile because he’s aware. “But you need a husband to get this one thing, and you can’t do that on your own.”
I should stand and break our contact, create distance instead of letting my body and mind sink into the idea. “Getting something because of marriage isn’t… I don’t know.”
“It’s also the only way to get the building. Maybe the bank will give you the loan if we’re married. Either way, I won’t interfere. It’s all yours.”
Am I in some odd dream that I’ll wake up from?
Gathering strength, I break our connection to stand and walk to the middle of the room, feeling his heated eyes on me the whole time. “Marriage is marriage. What happens in the long run?” I repeat.
His head drops low. “Di— That will be awhile in the future.” He didn’t finish the word divorce for the second time, but for some crazy indescribable reason, I don’t question it. I shove the idea that maybe we’ll never get a divorce deep into a dark corner in my mind where a dream has been locked away.
“What’s in it for you?” I examine him warily.
He lifts both of his hands and cradles the back of his head as he blows out a breath. Damn it, now I see his chest flexed, and it’s distracting.
“Everhope will be happy, everybody thinks it’s a great idea. The preschool, I mean. I’ll see you hap— Nobody needs to know the details or the fact you have a husband. Of course, maybe once everything is done and dusted then it might reach the public and my parents won’t bother me anymore about trying to find me a date, but by then, you will have the building.”
I stifle one laugh from that thought. He didn’t seem pleased when I reminded him what Carter said about being set up. But it’s such a minimal issue, too. Very marginal.
“My brother? Our friends? We literally said last night that we don’t need others interfering until we are confident with what we are. Remember? Climbing fences, pretending to borrow cups of sugar, you know, that kind of thing.” A grin of bewilderment graces my face.
A lazy smile is painted onto his face before he lifts his shoulders. “Nobody needs to know that we’re married.”
I titter. “How the hell does that work?”
He saunters my way with what I can only describe as swagger. Why must he look so damn sexy when he’s talking insanity?
He takes hold of a long strand of my hair and twists my lock around his finger. I’m too focused on his lips to meet his eyes.
“You know you can be married without living together. And in Illinois, we can get the license then marry the next day. I’msure the county courthouse will have openings; they seem kind of bored these days anyhow, with permits for quilt markets.”
My throat bobs then I crackle a sound while I mull over this situation.
“People accidentally get married in Vegas all the time. Sometimes to someone they don’t even know. You don’t always need a logical reason to get married. It’s a wild adventure.”
No, Hailey. Do not contemplate this.
“You’re making no sense, Oliver. Isn’t there some law for this that might get us in trouble?”
Then he melts my uncertainty away. He snakes his arm around my middle and abruptly pulls me close. My belly presses against his center, and Oliver has a strange aura of persistence that feels unfamiliar to me. It’s heated and tense. Is this what he is like at work? No. It can’t be. Because I’m not that to him. Attraction aside, I know I’m not a contract he files away.
“For financial gain, you mean? This isn’t exactly that. Plus, it’s hard to prove, and besides, there is enough on paper to make it seem that our marriage is real. The thing is, Hailey, most people assume I’m going with the flow of things, not a huge risk-taker.”
“Really? Didn’t notice since you took so long to kiss me,” I reply dryly.
He slants a smirk on the right side of his mouth. “Don’t rile me up right now. I have no problem putting a pin in that subject only to punish you later with my hand.”
My mouth gapes open because there is no humor in his tone, and admittedly, it’s not a bad image.
He continues. “I am a risk-taker. It’s just I don’t until I cross a line, and then I’m kind of hard to reel in. I’ve crossed the line with you, so I’m not afraid to get a little spontaneous on this. Take it up a notch.”
Well, fuck me. This is what I get now? Oliver leaving me in awe of his tenacity that I’ve never experienced before with him?
