I’m wrapped up in a warped alternate universe where my neighbor who grunts more than he speaks is proposing marriage.
“I don’t think you proposed so much as assumed marriage. While you’re planning your life and how I’ll be a pawn you can use and toss, I never agreed.”
“I like her,” Ayla stage-whispers to Liam.
Cian turns to me, “What are you thinking, Lorien? I can see how this makes sense for Li.” The man in question scoffs as his brother continues. “What makes this worth it to you?”
I don’t know. I’m not interested in marrying the oaf. The thought of seeing him in gray sweatpants while wearing his ring and not being able to touch him seems to be the ultimate torture, even more so than government paperwork.
“I have more questions that need to be answered before I consider whether this is worthy of consideration. One, where would we live? Two, are we allowed to date?”
The growl that comes from my could-be-fiancé is unexpected, and all eyes go his way.
“I’m sorry. Do my questions bother you?”
“No.”
“No, they don’t bother you?”
“No to dating other people. As to the first, wherever you’d prefer. I’d prefer it here. Your place might fit the narrative better. I’ll go where you want.” His brother and sister both react, but he keeps his eyes firmly on me. “Next question.”
“I won’t change my name. What will we tell people? What about my parents?”
He leans back. “Okay, and whatever you want, but the simpler the better. I’d go with ‘From the moment we met, there were sparks. Everything kept pulling us together. We couldn’t wait any longer and gave in.’ As for your parents, they don’t need to know. Do the things you need to. I keep a low profile.”
There were sparks. We couldn’t wait any longer.
“How will we forge the documents? Is that legal?”
He leans back in his seat and gestures to the people on either side of us. “You’re looking at our witnesses.”
This is the weirdest conversation I’ve ever been a part of. Marry Liam Murphy?
Never in my wildest dreams. Maybe not in my wildest nightmares. The man barely tolerates me, and we’re supposed to live together?
My first marriage is a failure, and it hasn’t even begun. I squeeze my lips together and fight the giggle that wants to erupt. I choke and sputter but fail. Eventually it rips from my chest.
Cian and Ayla look confused.
Liam looks offended. “Was something I said funny?” His words are a growl. One I wish didn’t go straight to my lady bits.
“I never thought I’d plan my divorce before I saidI do. You sure you can live with this? Live with me?”
He uses his fork to point at me. A little bit of food flings to the table. “Can you live with this?”
“I don’t know.” My voice is a whisper. I hold my finger up, spinning on all the things that have happened today, from being served to the proposal. This is the weirdest day of my life.
When it comes down to it, statistically speaking, more than half of marriages end in divorce, right? So I’d get that out of the way. I could learn how to live with a man. That kind of research and data would be invaluable, especially for someone like me. I would have a grasp on the legal system and what it takes to be married and divorced. Street smarts aren’t my strength, so I could call it a tutorial. For educational purposes, this could be a good thing.
“On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“I want a cat.”
14
fluffy mcgunnigans
