Page 29 of Final Proposal

And Ford casually mentioning their private helicopter is a stark reminder of the disparity between our lifestyles when I live a damn good one without complaints.

“You’re out of your mind, you know that?”

“But you’re considering it, aren’t you?” He flashes a boyish grin that has a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

I am, aren’t I?

“Just like that?” I ask. “I mean . . . you don’t even know me.”

“I do too.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “You do? What do you know about me?”

“I know you hate pretzels in Chex Mix, aren’t shy about germs, and that you prefer red wine—a good cab to be exact—over whiskey. What else? Hmm. That you deserve more credit than you’re given when it comes to your dickhead stepbrothers. That you rub your feet together like a cricket when you sleep.” His shrug complements his chuckle. “Oh, and you have a vagina.”

A woman walking past us gasps at that last part as I crudely burst out laughing. “Jesus.” I cough the word out.

“You were the one who let it be known, not me.”

I take a step closer to him. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“I thought we already established that.”

“Don’t you have to consult with your brothers or something? I mean . . . your fight that night. Are things better? Will they want approval? I mean—”

“Everything is status quo. Not the same but not any different. And, no. No approval needed. This is my decision. My choice.”

“Ford . . .” I look around at the people walking through the courtyard as if they’re going to give me an answer I’m pretty sure I already know. “I can’t let you do this. I don’t even understand why you’d want to—”

“Give me one good reason why you can’t.”

Because this is ridiculous.

Because I barely know you and we might end up hating each other.

Because this is supposed to be mine.

“All those reasons flashing through your eyes aren’t good enough. Okay. You wore me down,” he teases and holds his hand up in surrender. “Fifty-fifty split, we both live on the premises, and I’ll make sure you have an endless supply of Chex Mix without pretzels in it.”

“Hmm. I’m not sure if that’s enough for me,” I say, my grin telling him my words are just that. Words.

“Okay. Fifty-fifty split. We both live on the premises, and you get first pick on where you want to sleep. Final proposal.”

“Final proposal?” I belt out a low whistle. “You drive a hard bargain, Ford. That must be why you Sharpes rule the world.”

How did I go from feeling like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders when I walked out here to suddenly feeling like this could be feasible?

“C’mon, Celery Ellery. Take a chance on me. Take a chance with me.” He holds his hand out—the one he withheld from my brother’s handshake. “Deal, partner?”

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this,” I groan as a thrill of excitement shoots through me.

“Is that a yes?”

I meet his eyes, take in his smile, and reach out to shake his hand. What the hell am I doing? “Yes.”

Ford

She didn’t have a ring on her finger.