Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Willa
H ow did one explain this kind of predicament to their parents?
Hi Mom and Dad. Sorry, but I’m struggling to handle the pressure of my chosen career and family obligations, so I went to Vegas, wore a bikini, got drunk, and married a virtual stranger .
God, I was the worst.
More than anything, I wanted to go back to my suite and shower, but Magnolia would no doubt be waiting for me, and I could not face her right now, especially after lying to Lila.
She’d been texting my phone nonstop, and with every message, my guilt grew.
Magnolia
What the shit is going on? Why didn’t you come home last night?
Did you really get married?
Are you okay? How did this happen? Do you need me?
I mean it. If you’re in trouble, you know you can ask me for anything. I can make some calls.
Seriously. I can help. 50K in small bills in a duffel bag? A gun? A jet to take you out of the country? Please text me back so I know you’re okay.
What the hell? You never worry me, and now I’m worried. I know a hostage negotiator. Met him at a scuba retreat in Belize. Don’t ask. But I can call in a favor.
I’d been so focused on what a shitty daughter I was that I had completely forgotten that I was also, in fact, a shitty friend to Lila by not only marrying Cole, but by lying to her and claiming to have been in love with him behind her back.
But the way he lowered his head, with his broad shoulders slumped while his brother belittled him, had hurt my heart. Cole wasn’t perfect, and he may not have even been a good person, but he was a person, and he deserved to be treated like one.
The consensus was that, in general, doctors had God complexes. For me, though, it was more of a justice complex. And when I saw unfairness of any kind, I felt called to respond.
So before I could think better of it, I was on my feet, defending him and spinning wild lies. Lies I’d eventually have to untangle.
Before I could dive into that, though, I had to confront my parents. I couldn’t risk the town rumor mill getting to them first. Luckily, the odds were good that they hadn’t yet heard. They weren’t gossipy by nature, and on top of that, on Saturdays, they drove down to Bangor to shop and have lunch with friends.
Cole had given me a T-shirt and running shorts—that were a little tight on my ass, but otherwise fine—to wear, and I was camping out in his room, drinking coffee and panicking. It wasn’t my finest moment, but I was in uncharted waters right now.
First things first, I had to give Mags proof of life. If I didn’t, God only knew what kind of reinforcements she’d called in. After that, I could deal with my parents.
Willa
I’m okay. No need for cash, weapons, or hostage negotiators. I’ll be back in a bit to tell you everything.
Magnolia
Thank God. Are you sure you’re okay? I’m here for you.
Willa
Thanks.
Thankfully, Cole was giving me space. So far today, he’d hugged me when I was wearing nothing but a bra and panties, then we’d held hands, and he’d even pressed a kiss to the back of mine. Things had been a bit too intimate, and I needed a moment to wrap my head around it all.
Over the last twenty-four hours, I’d discovered that he was a lot different from what I’d imagined. But that didn’t mean this was anything other than a drunken mistake.
As I sat on the luxurious king-size bed, staring at my phone, he came in, sat next to me, and gently bumped his shoulder against mine. Despite needing a breather, I was strangely comforted by his presence.
“I know you’re embarrassed,” he said quietly, “and I know we’ve gotten ourselves into a big mess. But I have an idea.”
As he spoke, I kept my head lowered and my focus fixed on my phone.
“What if we pretended for a bit?”
I straightened and blinked at him. “Pretended what?”
He shifted and turned so I could only see a sliver of his profile. “That it wasn’t a drunken mistake. That we’re together. In love. And that we impulsively decided to get married.”
Turning, I tilted to one side so I could see his sweet, concerned expression. “Be serious,” I said softly.
“I am serious.” His shoulders slumped. “You don’t want to upset your parents and risk your father’s health.”
“Or my reputation as the town doctor,” I added.
“Exactly. And you stood up to Owen. Knocked him right off his high horse. You spun this situation from an irresponsible mistake into a sweet love story.”
My heart thudded at the way he described it. He wasn’t wrong.
“And I know how embarrassed you are.” He trailed off, studying his hands.
I nudged him with my shoulder. “Let me be clear,” I said. “I’m embarrassed about the drunken Vegas wedding, not about my choice of groom.”
A slow smile spread across his face, causing a deep dimple to form under the thick, dark stubble of his right cheek. “Thanks for saying that.”
I shrugged.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve now ruined my relationship with my brothers. Again. After months of rebuilding and trying to show them I’m worth it, they’ll no doubt go right back to thinking the worst of me.”
I felt for him. As much as I worried about letting my parents down, they would never turn their backs on me. I couldn’t imagine a world where I didn’t wake up every single day certain of their love.
Cole didn’t have that. Not with his parents. And he was so desperate for his brothers’ approval. So desperate to connect with them.
“How would it work?” It was silly, really, piling another irresponsible decision onto the mountain we’d already made. Surely it would be better to face the consequences now, then deal with the fallout and move on.
“We handle it the way you did with Owen and Lila. Tell people that we’ve been secretly dating for a couple of months and got swept up in the moment in Vegas. Go home and stay married for a bit. That way you don’t risk your career or your dad’s health.”
“And what do you get out of this?”
“With any luck, it’ll keep my brothers from hating me for fucking things up again. Or at least hate me less. Also,” he trailed off, “I’d really love to move out of Debbie’s house. Get some space. Figure out my plans for the future.”
Yesterday, between drunken dares and helicopter rides, we’d talked a lot about his future. His voice had been filled with pride when he talked about the work he’d done on RiverFest and how he was thinking about going back to school to complete his bachelor’s degree.
My cottage did have a spare bedroom, and I was barely home anyway.
But…
“I’m not sure.” My stomach twisted. A fake marriage? That was a bridge too far. I needed to stay focused on my patients and the practice. Learn and train and become the kind of doctor my dad and grandfather had been before me.
I didn’t even have the time or energy to date, never mind fake a whole-ass marriage.
“I’m a great roommate,” he added, his brows lifted hopefully. “Debbie trained me well. I do laundry and cook, and I’ll stay out of your way.” Shifting my way, he ducked his head and held eye contact. “I owe you after what you said to Owen, and I wanna help. I’m living in limbo right now. I’ve got nothing and no one. So if you want me to be your husband for a few months while we figure out this annulment process, then I’m game.”
For a moment, all I could do was stare at him and consider his words. Over the last thirty-six hours, Cole and I had become friends. We’d come together and connected. Not in a romantic way—granted, things had been very flirty when we were drunk—but maybe we could be platonic roommates? We were both lonely and got along surprisingly well for a jock and a nerd.
“It could work,” I said slowly. “If we have ground rules and a plan and maybe a contract.”
“How about…” He stuffed his hand into the pocket of his University of Maine sweats, and when he pulled it out, he held it out, palm up. “We roll for it?”
I blinked down at the item. “You didn’t.”
His grin was positively devilish, the sight bringing with it a flash of our night together. It was no wonder I married this guy. That grin was dangerous.
In his hand between us sat a bright red die. On the side with two markings was a B , for the Bellagio, etched in elegant script.
“I swiped it. Couldn’t get the other one. But I knew I had to hold on to the lucky charm that had gotten me a wife.”
My heart stumbled, even as I let out a laugh. This was beyond ridiculous. How the hell was this my life?
“What do you say? Odd, we fess up. Even, we stay married?”
I could not make a major life decision on the roll of a die. Nope, that was insane. Look what a mess damn dice had gotten me into last night.
No. It was a terrible idea. But the brick of anxiety resting on my chest had me wondering whether this was actually a workable solution.
My life was hectic, so I probably wouldn’t even notice being married to the guy, and if it would save my parents embarrassment and stress, that alone would be worth it.
I took in his hopeful face and the shaggy hair falling over his forehead. Dammit. All my caregiver instincts were screaming at me to help this man.
“Okay,” I said softly, though my stomach rolled with anxiety. “Even, we do it.”
He held out his hand and grinned. After last night, he didn’t have to tell me what he wanted. I leaned in, closing my eyes and praying that I wasn’t messing things up even worse, and blew on the die.
When I straightened again, he shook it and dropped it onto the comforter. On the soft surface, it didn’t roll much, but when it stopped, it landed on four.
“Even.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Okay, wifey. I guess we’re calling your parents.”
I guessed we were. The clock was ticking, and despite the way I’d been racking my brain, I hadn’t come up with a better solution. My parents would be shocked, sure, but if I told them I was in love with Cole, they would support us completely.
The more I considered it, the more it made sense. Short term, easy, no strings, and we’d come out of it better than where we were today. Right?
I held my hand out. “Okay.”
Rather than shake on it, Cole threw an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me tight, engulfing me in his warmth and masculine scent. “You should know this about your husband—I’m a hugger. Now make the call.”
“M-married?” my mother sputtered.
Eyes closed, I took a deep breath. Having Cole’s strong arm wrapped around me was helping more than I’d care to admit.
“Yes,” I said, barely holding back the tears. “I’ve been dating someone. Last night, we got swept up in the moment and had a Vegas wedding. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It was unexpected, but I’m happy.”
“I thought you were in Vegas for Lila’s engagement party.”
Lila and Owen had invited my parents as well—Lila had been a fixture in our house for decades; they loved her like a second daughter—but my dad couldn’t travel, and Mom was too busy managing his recovery like a military general.
“Yes. It wasn’t planned…” I inhaled a steadying breath. “We were planning to come home and tell you and Dad properly,” I said. “But Gail Thomas took a photo of us and was sending it to people in town. I wanted you to hear it from me rather than through the rumor mill.”
My mother scoffed. She had no tolerance for petty gossip. “She hasn’t changed since high school.”
“I want to tell Dad too, but I don’t want to upset him.”
“Oh, sweetheart, he will be surprised, but not upset. Your dad only wants you to be safe and happy.”
My heart clenched, and my eyes filled with tears. Was I seriously lying to my parents to save face? Had I become the kind of person who shied away from consequences?
“Who is the lucky man?” Mom asked. “Or woman?”
I surveyed Cole, who sat beside me, his eyes totally focused on my face. We’d gone from acquaintances with nothing in common to friends to married in a matter of hours. How was this my life?
He gave me a nod.
“Cole Hebert,” I replied, my tongue thick in my mouth.
There was no gasp. No objections. “Okay, then,” she said after a pause, her tone curt. She was in therapist mode now. “I’ll go get your father.”
My dad took it well. He was confused but sweet and requested we come for dinner so that they could meet Cole as my husband—because, of course, he knew Cole and had his entire life. My chest ached at the slowness of his words. He was tired. I should have stayed home. I should never have come to Vegas.
It was selfish. My parents needed me. My patients needed me. This was the last place I should be.
“I love you, kiddo,” Dad said. “And I can’t wait to see the two of you.”
My mother was relatively silent, no doubt choosing to keep her thoughts to herself until she found the right moment. At least this gave me time to prepare for her interrogation.
The moment the call disconnected, I squeezed my eyes shut to keep from bursting into tears.
Silently, Cole rubbed my back while I composed myself.
After a moment, he scooted a little closer. “We fly home tomorrow. I’ll try to get our seats moved so we can sit together. We can figure out how we’re going to do this, work out the details, on the plane.”
“We need a plan,” I said softly, overwhelmed by the desire to head home now.
“Yes. For now, the plan is to shower, get dressed, and meet everyone for dinner in”—he looked at his fancy smartwatch —“ninety minutes. We break the news, then we smile and hold hands and eat dinner. Then we get the hell out.”
“Okay.” Now that the hardest part was over, I had very little concerns about telling everyone else.
Thanks to Aunt Gail, the whole town knew, and they were probably judging us. I wanted to crawl into the fancy bed and hide, but it was time to face the music.
“You’re right. We need to own the narrative,” I said, my sadness morphing into anger. If I saw Gail tonight, I’d punch her. Then I’d probably punch Owen. I loved Lila and wanted her to be happy, but if he ever looked at Cole like that again, I couldn’t guarantee I wouldn’t avenge my husband.
“You’re making a really scary face right now.”
“I was thinking about how mad I am at Gail. And at Owen. If he ever even thinks about giving you shit, I’ll knock his teeth out.”
He laughed. “I hit the wife jackpot: cute and feisty.”
My heart sank, but I forced a smile.
Cute.
If I had a nickel for every time a guy had called me cute. I was always cute. With my round cheeks and green eyes. Never sexy, never gorgeous, never desirable. Just… cute.
I’d been told more times than I could count that I’d be so pretty if I lost weight. That line was one of my favorites. Like I was hiding something worthwhile beneath the layers of blubber. I’d worked hard to push past that, to celebrate my body and treat myself with respect. But sometimes, one word could send me into a tailspin.
Cute.
His comment should not have bothered me. Yes, he had been flirty and handsy last night, and we had kissed a fair amount, but that was where the connection stopped. He was a generic hot guy. That was it. His feelings about my looks should not matter.
So why was I now heading back to my room, determined to look extra hot at dinner?