“Obviously. I could tell from the paint stains on your threadbare overalls.”
Pardon me?
“Not the way to win her over,” Rupert mutters from the side of his mouth.
“You’re right.” Theo takes a deep breath, shakes out his arms, and then gets back down on one knee.
You have got to be kidding me.
Note to self, never drink margaritas with Aunt Kitty, ever again.
Get Aunt Kitty a new tablet that is not cracked so we don’t mistake the wordsfinancierandfiancé.
And never give your home address to strangers!
He opens the ring box again, holds it in front of me, and then smiles. “Renley…uh?—”
“Lynn,” Rupert assists.
“Yes, that’s right. Renley Lynn Gossage, will you do me the greatest honor of my life and be my wife?”
“Nice rhyme,” Rupert says.
“Thanks, mate,” Theo replies, and I swear, that smile of his, reaching from ear to ear, it’s gleaming. Actually sparkling.
I have known him for less than a day—yes,a day—and I already hate him.
Despise.
Desperately want to take him to my backyard and shove his face into a patch of poison ivy because he’s a thorn in my side, a massive disappointment, and everything I hate about a drunken mistake.
“So?” he asks. “Will you be my wife?”
“Absolutely…not.”
His expression flattens and he stands tall, snapping the ring box shut. “Why did you have to say it like that? With the pause? That was spiteful. I thought you were saying yes for a moment.”
“I told you I didn’t want to marry you from the beginning.”
“That’s not what your profile said.”
“Stop bringing up the profile.”
“Why would I stop bringing it up when that’s the reason I flew across the Atlantic Ocean to be here with you?”
“That was your choice, not mine.”
“Uh, it wasyourchoice, when you selected ‘match.’”
“That’s not what I thought I was matching for, and you know it.”
He tosses the ring box to Rupert, who catches it, and sheds his suit jacket, throwing it to his friend as well. He undoes the buttons of his shirt and untucks it too.
“What on earth are you doing? If you think getting naked will convince me to marry you, then you have no idea what kind of woman I am.”
He scoffs loudly. “I have a lot more respect for myself than to flash you the goods to get you to marry me. It’s a bloody heat box in this town and I dressed up for you. I’m not going to stay dressed up if you’re going to turn me down.”
He sheds his button-up shirt and then exhales loudly before flopping back on the grass of my front yard.
