“We figure it out then.”
“And if she keeps it strictly business?” he asks gently. “If she walks away once the storm passes?”
I exhale. “Then I know Evie is where she belongs and I can walk away knowing we did the right thing. Yeah, I’ll probably be crushed, but I don’t just care for Kate, I care about that little girl and I want what’s best for her.”
Knox lets that sit between us. No arguing, no teasing—just the weight of what I’m saying.
Finally, he nods once. “You’ve always been the guy who thinks before he jumps. So if you’re standing on this ledge?” His voice softens. “You’re all in.”
“Yeah,” I breathe. “Iam.”
He nods. “Then make sure the reason is solid. Not just to patch holes for her. Do it because you’re choosing her—for the long haul, even when things calm down and the town has moved on to its next scandal. Even with the possibility that she could walk away.”
The truth sits heavy. “You think I’m not ready for that?”
Knox’s mouth curves. “I think you already stepped into it whether you’re ready or not. The rest is just paperwork.”
Silence stretches between us, broken only by the hiss of the grill. He pokes at the ribs, then points the tongs at me with a grin.
“I hope you know if you go through with this, Brynn’s going to be all over it. She’ll have the wedding playlist made by dinner.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “That tracks.”
He grins. “Hell, she’ll probably volunteer to officiate.”
We both laugh, easing the moment, but when the sound fades, I stare past the yard, past the fence, past everything that’s supposed to scare me off.
Maybe it’s crazy. Maybe nobody in their right mind would sign up for a marriage they can’t guarantee a happy ending to. But if this gives Kate a fighting chance, if it protects Evie from being treated like a project or a trophy, then the risk isn’t really a risk at all.
Knox rests a hand on my shoulder. “Whatever you choose,” he says quietly, “you’ve got backup.”
Knox’s grill is still cooling when the screen door slams open and Brynn barrels onto the back porch like a woman on a mission.
She’s lit up light a Christmas tree, sunglasses perched on her head, and there’s a grin on her face that makes me instantly wary.
“Before either of you say a word,” she announces, “I just came from brunch, and I havethoughts.”
Knox doesn’t even look up from his beer. “That’s my cue to leave.”
“Sit down,” she says, waving him off. “You too, Cam. We’re having a meeting.”
I glance at Knox, who mutters, “God help us,” before settling back into his chair.
Brynn drops into the seat across from me, elbows on the table, eyes bright. “So. Kate told us everything.”
I sigh. “Of course she did.”
“She’s scared,” Brynn continues, ignoring my tone. “And rightfully so. But you”—she points a manicured finger at me—“you offered to marry her. Fake or not, that’s…huge.”
Knox smirks. “Ballsy, too.”
Brynn spins toward him. “And romantic.”
“Practical,” I correct. “It’s practical, not romantic.”
“Sweetheart,” she says with a teasing smile, “you can’t say things likemarry meand then pretend there’s no romance involved.”
Knox chuckles. “She’s got you there.”
