My Fake Husband by Black, L. (lightest ebook reader .TXT) 📗

“Shit.”

“Is that a yes?”

“That’s a maybe. I’ll think about it. Even though it’s a horribly unfair plan that you get nothing out of. I mean, are you a charitable organization suddenly?”

“Always have been. You’ll be the eleventh girl I’ve married to provide collateral for small business loans,” I deadpanned. “One more and I get a statue in the town square.” She rolled her eyes.

“I’ll call you.”

“I don’t have your number. If I’m going to give you my name, I think I should have your number,” I said, flirting a little.

She reached in her purse. I thought she was getting her phone to share the contact info with me, but instead she pulled out a pen and flipped my hand over. She wrote her number on my palm in purple ink.

“That’s my favorite color,” I said.

She just smiled at me and slipped out of her chair, “Good night,” she said. Then she leaned over and kissed my cheek. A quick kiss, a brush of soft, warm lips against my skin. I shut my eyes briefly and swallowed hard. I wasn’t sure why, but her kiss on my cheek moved me somehow. I caught her hand as she stood, and I held it.

“You can count on me,” I said. I needed to say it, even though I wasn’t sure why.

“I know,” she said. “That’s what’s scaring me.”

7 Trixie

I called Kiera early in the morning. This whole situation needed my sister’s perspective, but I hadn’t called her after I left the bar because she had little kids and I didn’t want to wake her or them. If anyone called my sister after nine at night, authorities would never find the body.

“So, you’re saying that Damon Vance, who you’ve had a crush on since like the seventh grade, wants to marry you and you have to THINK ABOUT IT? What the hell, Tig?”

“It’s not a real marriage. Just a fake marriage for loan collateral.”

“Even in a fake marriage, you can see him naked if you ask nicely, I’m pretty sure,” she teased.

“Well, I’m not clear on the etiquette in a fake marriage with a guy who takes pity on me because I’m a poor, fatherless waif or whatever who can’t afford to buy a building in downtown Rockford Falls.”

“I don’t think that’s a pity proposal. People don’t really do that. Maybe a pity dance if you were at prom and your date ditched you to make out with somebody else, but not an actual offer of marriage. That’s way overboard.”

“It’s stupid. I mean, what’s in it for him?”

“Maybe he likes you and wants to help because he can. He’s a nice guy, sis. Don’t overthink it. It’s not the worst idea.”

“You’re crazy,” I said.

Kiera laughed. “You know Damon. He’s a great guy. He can help you. Not to mention I know you used to doodle Mrs. Trixie Vance in your diary in high school.”

“You read my diary? Of course you did. You always were a sneaky little shit,” I shook my head.

“Do you have a better idea on how to solve your problem? Your shop is shut down, possibly forever if you don’t find a way to get the plumbing fixed and all your equipment replaced. Are you gonna go work at the gas station selling vapes and chili dogs?”

“No. I could go work for one of the Overton florists.”

“Yeah, working the cash register and doing deliveries. Because that uses your talent,” she said sarcastically.

“That’s harsh,” I said grimly.

“It’s true,” she shot back. “You have a way out of this problem. And the answer happens to be the hottest fireman Rockford Falls has ever seen. What is the downside here? I realize I’m sleep-deprived but I must be missing something. Is there a downside to this?”

“No. I was up all night thinking about it, and the only problem is feeling like I’m taking advantage of Damon.”

“He offered.”

“Technically I proposed and he accepted.”

“Same difference. He was sober and understood the implications of saying yes.”

“He said okay.”

“What are you, the detail police today?” she grumbled.

“Somebody had to make waffles at four, I’m guessing by your mood,” I said.

“Shut. Up.”

“Have you tried not giving him waffles?” I asked. “I mean, I know he’s the cutest kid ever and all but…”

“Oh, hey if only I’d thought of that,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Of course I’ve tried not giving him waffles. Why would I voluntarily give him breakfast when it’s still goddamn dark outside? He cries like his heart is broken. He won’t go back to sleep. It’s wake up, make him waffles and watch him play happily or wake up, refuse him waffles and fight the endless tantrum. And by endless I mean he kept going till after nine in the morning. I thought I’d died and gone to hell and it was loud there.”

“Okay, okay. Waffles for everyone, okay?” I said.

“I’m so tired. I wish that my big struggle was deciding whether to marry the hot guy who wants to solve all my problems. Don’t make this hard when there’s an easy solution,” she said wearily.

“I love you. Go take a nap, okay?” I said.

She yawned goodbye and hung up. She might be sleep-deprived, but she was right. There was no downside. I texted her, I’m doing it. You were right. Never tell anyone I said I was wrong though.

I knew that message would make her laugh. I also knew it was the truth. If I agreed to marry Damon, I could use his house as collateral to fix my shop and buy the building. I would pay him back, with interest, beginning the first month I had my shop open again. I didn’t care if I had to live on ramen noodles and wear worn-out shoes and cut my own hair. I’d repay him. That would be priority number one. Because I could never really thank him adequately, I could at least honor the agreement scrupulously and provide him free flowers for life.

Good decision. Now just try