Chapter Three
Sienna
I’m engaged. To a stranger. For money.
I've watched enough Law & Order episodes to know better than to get married to a stranger, much less the leader of a motorcycle club. But as I stare at my brother's medication, all refilled, I can't think of one reason why this could be a terrible idea. It's only been two days since Pope asked me to marry him. I signed another NDA and made wedding arrangements. In those two days, the man didn’t just pay for the meds but cleared all the pending medical bills that had been weighing on my family for months.
It should scare me that I am now indebted to such a powerful man. It should terrify me that two days ago, I signed over the next two years of my life to Pope and truthfully, it does. Before Pope, I never gave too much stock to marriage, and when I did, I figured it would be something romantic, like how my parents met. Nothing like this.
“Sie, are you sure about this?”
I don’t realize I’ve spaced out until my brother’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. I turn around to watch him walk into the kitchen, and my heart tightens a little. He's moving slowlyand I can see the effort it takes just to get across the room. His usually flat hair is a little brighter today but his face is still pale, I imagine from pain. The bags under his eyes are darker and more pronounced.
“Hey, are you okay?” I ask, pulling a stool out from him when he steps next to me. “Sit.”
“Stop fussing,” he scolds, nudging my hand away when I go to help. “And don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not,” I say with an eyeroll, grabbing a glass of water for him. “Did you take your meds? I got them refilled today.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Don’t be a brat.”
He takes a sip of the water and turns those golden-brown eyes to me and it hurts how much they look like our father’s. How much he looks like the man we’ll never see again. “You didn’t answer my question,” he says, putting the glass aside. “Are you sure about getting married and moving in with this guy? I mean, none of us knew you were in a relationship to begin with.”
Because I wasn’t.
I hate lying to my family but I also hate the thought of hurting them. The truth will hurt. I cannot tell Jude that he’s the reason I’m getting married to this stranger. I can’t put that kind of weight on him when he’s already going through so much, so I decide it’s a necessary evil. “We just…clicked.”
“Clicked,” he deadpans.
Okay, I’m not going about this the right way. “I met him at work, I’ve told you that before,” I say, avoiding his eyes lest he reads the lie in mine. “We clicked, yes. And dated for a while but neither of us thought it would become serious.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Then why won’t you look at me.
“Because I’m cooking,” I say, and turn to check the timer on the oven where my lasagna is baking. “Pope is a really nice guy and he cares very much about me.”
“Does he?”
"Well, yes." I turn to my brother and my eyes narrow on his. "Be nice to him when he comes to dinner. I'm serious, Jude. That’s the man I am getting married to.”
“I don’t like how fast things are moving between you two.”
“I know,” I murmur.
I couldn’t agree more, but I knew what I was getting into before I signed the paperwork. Pope didn’t lie to me about his intentions and when he insisted on staying married for an additional year after the baby is born, I was taken aback. And then he told me why. Something about taking care of me postpartum and working on our child's bond before we got divorced and made a shared custody arrangement. At first, his words touched me in ways nothing ever had before but then I quickly reminded myself that he only had our future child's well-being in mind, not mine.
I'm simply a means to an end for him. The wife and the mother who'll earn him his inheritance.
No, to say things are moving fast would be an understatement, but even more bothersome are these confusing feelings I’m getting for the man. I ought to remember my role in his life but Jesus, when he looks at me…I forget.
And that kiss…
I resist the urge to reach up and touch my lips at the memory of the kiss we shared in his office. The way he held me against his firm muscles as his mouth moved hotly against mine. It was my first kiss and I haven’t stopped thinking about it for days.
