Page 32 of Holding Penalty

I plant my boots on the ground and stand up from the tailgate.

I guess so.

I turn to Piper. She’s halfway through a chew after just stuffing a big handful of fries into her mouth. A questioning look fills her green eyes.

Then, with a half-eaten bacon cheeseburger in my hand, I get down on one knee, my denim scraping against the cracked and sun-bleached asphalt.

“Piper Dashwood, will you marry me?”

14

PIPER

Ican only blink, stunned, as I look at Nash down on one knee in front of me.

“Nash … what⁠—”

“Well, fake marry,” he interrupts. “Will you fake marry me?”

I’m … I’m … fuck it—I’m befuddled. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask. I asked.” The edge of his mouth turns up on a wry smirk. “I’m still a little too traditional to let a woman propose to me. You can keep your last name, though.”

A bewildered laugh escapes my throat. I never imagined being proposed to by a guy holding a hamburger, while I have a dab of ketchup at the edge of my mouth that I’m too baffled to wipe off.

“Look, you need that inheritance to buy your bakery. All you need to do is be married for a six months, and you don’t care if it’s fake or not? Well, I’ll do it.”

Skepticism rises through me. “What’s in it for you?”

Nash looks caught off guard, his eyes shifting furtively, like he’s trying to find an answer for that himself.

“Being married could …” he begins, trailing off, his eyes still slanted to the side; then his expression shifts, and his eyes find mine. “Could help me with sponsorships.”

I lift an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“Yeah. I haven’t gotten any big-money sponsorships like a lot of players at my level have, and everyone says that married men or guys who are fathers get better sponsorship offers. Corporate types think of them as more stable, better faces for their brand.”

My brow crinkles. “Having children is not going to be part of this deal.”

He barks a laugh. “Yeah, I know. Just being married will be enough to get me some better offers.”

I want to own that bakery. The thought of it closing makes it feel like there’s a hole in my chest. It’s the job I’ve always dreamed of, and going in every day makes me so happy, even when the workday is long and hard. I love my coworkers. I love what an institution it is in the community. If I just had my inheritance, it could be mine.

“I … I …” I’m still trying to gather my thoughts.

“Think of how much it’ll piss off Crew,” Nash says, his nose twitching like it tastes bad to say my ex-fiancé’s name. “You run away from your wedding, and you get married to another guy on the same day.”

The thought of sticking it to Crew on my way out the door does appeal to the less mature aspect of my nature. But …

“We can’t get married today. Who’s going to marry us?”

Nash is still grinning. “A judge can do it.”

“It’s Saturday. We’re not going to find a judge at the courthouse.”

Nash shakes his head. “My future wife has too little faith in me.” Hearing Nash call me his wife, even sarcastically, brings a strange kind of pressure to my chest. “I happen to know a particular judge, because he’s a season ticket holder and comes to every fan event. I’ve talked to him a couple times and know that he’s a workaholic, goes to his office every Saturday to read law review articles. Good chance he’s there right now.”

“And if he’s not?”