Page 4 of The Marriage Mistake

I unhinged my locked jaw and said, “We will not be consummating the marriage.”

His lips curled into a dark smile, and sparks flitted down the insides of my thighs. He knew he’d won. “But that’s the fun part.”

“The fun part is both of us becoming financially stable and setting ourselves up for life.”

He hummed, gaze finally leaving mine as he glanced at the closed door leading to the hall. He turned back to me and said, “If my grandmother gets even the slightest whiff of this, she’ll lose her mind.”

I shrugged. “You’ll still have three hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

“Still, I would prefer that she thinks she’s won this round.”

“What does that mean, exactly?”

“You know about the get-out-of-jail-free card written into the marriage contract, I assume.”

He was talking about the six-week clause. In Maine, we had ninety days to file our wedding certificate following the ceremony, but the wedding contract had another deadline. We would have six weeks. If either of us decided the marriage wasn’t for us in that time, we would tear up the certificate and go our separate ways. If we decided to go forward within that time period, we’d file the paperwork and make it official.

I nodded. “Six weeks,” I said.

He hummed. “We’ll have to make it convincing for that time.”

“The whole six weeks?” I repeated, incredulous. “You don’t think people will believe I want to marry you?”

He flicked his fingers. “More like the other way around.”

I flinched like I’d been slapped. “That,” I gritted out, “was offensive.”

I’d never seen eyes so blue. He arched a brow. “That’s not my problem.”

“Two weeks, and we file the certificate. I need to get the paperwork to the estate lawyer, and these things move slowly.”

“Two weeks isn’t enough to throw Grandma Mars off the scent. She’d never think I’m willing to bring a woman into my daughter’s life after only two weeks.”

Would this man negotiate every single thing I proposed? Why couldn’t he just be agreeable?

I huffed, grimacing. “A month,” I finally said. “We file the certificate after a month.”

That only left two months between our official marriage and my thirtieth birthday, and it was four whole weeks where anything could go wrong. If things fell through before we filed, I’d have so very little time to find someone else. A risk. I resisted the urge to wipe my palms on my pants, despite the fact that they’d grown damp.

Jack shrugged. “A month is workable. We’ll have to make sure we’re seen around town, make it believable.”

“You’re proposing we pretend to fall in love,” I said flatly.

“I’m proposing we act like a couple while we’re in public, and that we be in public as often as possible.”

I must have had a blank look on my face, because he tilted his head, studying me. “You know how to act like a couple, right?”

“Of course I do,” I snapped, a little too quickly. A little too hotly.

“I’m not sure I believe you. Have you ever had a boyfriend, Ember?” His voice was dark velvet, sliding over my skin, sending shivers through my veins.

I gulped. “I’m adding an addendum to our contract,” I gritted out. “No probing personal questions.”

His smile was pure, delicious evil. “All I’m saying is we should hold hands. Say sweet nothings to each other. Feed each other bites of food.”

I grimaced, and he laughed. It was a rich, round sound that made me want to lean toward him and faceplant into his chest.

Red Alert: Danger Ahead.