Chapter 2 #2
“I don’t want to have this conversation with you,” I groan, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders.
“Why not?”
“Because Addison is getting married, so none of it matters.” I drop the truth on my niece just to get her to realize this
isn’t a conversation that will have a happy ending. Not for me anyways.
Everly sucks a sharp breath as she presses her hand to her chest. “To who?”
“I don’t know. But when Roe puts her mind to something, she gets it done.” I roll out my shoulders, feeling tense over just
saying the nickname I pegged her with shortly after we met. I think it was a defense mechanism to put her in the friends-only
zone. Addison is too feminine. Too intimate. Roe is tough. Ballsy. It’s a derivative of her last name of Monroe, like what we do with guys Calder and I play intermural hockey
with. It helps put her staunchly in the bro category where she belongs, so no one gets hurt.
But the way my body reacts when I think about her is very un-bro-like. And she’s not even standing in front of me right now
to inspire such indecent thoughts.
“I need more details, Luke,” Everly snaps, losing patience with my less-than-stellar storytelling.
I exhale heavily. Maybe if I tell someone the full situation, I’ll stop feeling like my head is about to explode. Maybe I’ll
stop looking at my brothers in love with murder in my heart. Maybe I’ll stop moping on this bench every night. Maybe I’ll
stop stressing out over what one of my closest friends is attempting to do with her life.
“Roe told me when we were in Mexico for Wyatt and Trista’s wedding a few months ago that she has to get married before the
end of the year or her father is going to sell the lumberyard.”
“Say what?” Everly exclaims, her voice taking on a raspy tone.
I grip the back of my neck and shrug. “Her dad is old-school and refuses to pass it on to her if she’s on her own.
The requirement is built into the trust that her great-grandfather created for the business.
No single person can take over the company.
So now she’s trying to find some random dude to marry her so she can take full ownership. ”
The Cheshire cat smile that spreads across Everly’s face is terrifying. “This is perfect,” she peals, clapping her hands excitedly.
“How is this perfect?” I ask, gaping at my niece, who I consider myself very close to, but she seems far too happy over my
less-than-ideal situation.
Everly has always felt more like a little sister than a niece. I’m thirty-three years old, so fourteen years older than her
is obviously a big age gap, but Max had Everly when I was barely a teenager myself, so I feel like I grew up with her at the
kids table. And we’ve always had this easy way of talking. Regular texts and phone calls even when she went away to Ireland
for college. Actually, especially when she went away for college. I was worried sick every day of something happening to her.
If she didn’t text me back within an hour, my blood pressure would start to rise with every passing minute. Everly knows that
about me too, so she does a good job keeping up with communication. She’s really the only one who knows how much my head races
to bad places if the people I care about are unreachable.
It’s why I call my mom all the time too. Calder calls me a momma’s boy for it, but it’s not a bad thing to worry about our
widowed mother. She’s all alone now and God knows what could happen to her every day. She used to have my dad looking out
for her, but now she has no one. I hate thinking of her in that big house all alone. I can’t help but stress over the people
in my life, especially the women.
Luckily Everly tolerates my need for communication fairly well.
I miss her. And I’ve missed her words of wisdom.
I don’t know how the fuck she does it, but she really does give good advice.
She has since she was young. Unexpected answers that feel pure and honest and untainted by the darkness of the world.
It’s no wonder she’s a self-proclaimed matchmaker. She’s good at peopling.
Unlike Wyatt, who grunts more than speaks, and Calder, who’s constantly pushing people’s buttons. Or Max, who always wants
to control every situation he comes into contact with.
Everly, on the other hand, has this uncanny ability to make people say yes to things they wouldn’t normally say yes to and
somehow thank her for it when it’s all said and done. In some ways, I’ve missed her scheming. Being so far away from her this
past year while she was abroad for school has sucked, but I’m proud of her for branching out. My niece is braver than all
four of us Fletcher brothers put together. Maybe I need to channel some of Everly’s bravery in my own life to help me get
over Roe.
“I couldn’t have written this better myself.” Everly rips me out of my inner musings as she begins tapping her fingers on
her chin, clearly deep in some sort of plotting mode. “The universe is basically handing you this love story. You can be her
husband!”
“No, I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because Roe doesn’t want me. She doesn’t even want to be married. She doesn’t want love. Ever. She’s anti-love. Anti-kids.
Anti-anything traditional. Has been since the moment I met her, making it damn near impossible for me to confess even if I
wanted to.”
“Why is she anti-love?” Everly asks, her brows pinched together in confusion. Her innocent, naive heart knows no different
than love and happily-ever-afters.
“That’s just how she is,” I reply, refusing to give Everly any more because some heavy shit happened to Roe when she was younger, and I would never betray her confidence by blabbing about her trauma to my niece.
“I just know that whoever Roe finds to marry, it’s strictly going to be a contractual business arrangement.
They’ll stay married for a year until she can fulfill the trust fund’s requirements and then she can take ownership of the lumberyard.
After that it’s divorce court and ‘peace out, sucker.’ She’s already got a prenup written up. ”
“So, you can be the sucker,” Everly chirps, her body vibrating with urgency. “You two are friends so this makes perfect sense.
Volunteer to be her husband.”
“I can’t do that, kid.”
“Why not?”
“Because I already have,” I snap, and my voice echoes down the mountain like a fucking siren call. Holding my breath, I turn
around to see if my brothers heard and exhale with relief when they all still seem engrossed in their domestic infatuations.
I don’t want to hear my brothers’ take on my situation, especially when they all seem so happy and in love. I don’t need an
audience for my failure.
“I wrote her a letter a few months ago and she rejected me. She wants a stranger. She has literally been going on dates with
random guys on Tinder to try to find someone. That’s why I got desperate and wrote her that stupid fucking letter that she
laughed at. It’s all fucking nonsense, and I told her that but she’s so bullheaded, I can’t get her to listen. I’m worried
sick about her.” I yank off my hat and slice my hands through my hair, hating how heavy this subject makes me feel.
“You’re worried because you love her,” Everly says quietly. “Not like a friend. Like a wife.”
My lips thin as my niece pegs me better than even my own brothers have. It’s embarrassing how long I’ve been harboring these
feelings. Roe’s made it incredibly clear where she stands when it comes to relationships and I’ve tried to respect that. I’ve
tried to let these feelings go.
But I just . . .
I love her.
And I hate myself for it.
It didn’t hit me all at once either. It was a slow, comfortable build. Like a great steady hike in the mountains where the
ascent is gradual enough that I earn every step, but easy enough I can maintain my pace for miles. So I climb and I climb
and I climb and don’t even realize I reach the top until I look out and see the stunning view that is my friend and realize . . .
holy fuck, this is what I’ve been missing.
It’s her.
And when I realized that, I felt both annoyed at myself, for making that pact with my brothers after we all had our hearts
broken, and terrified because the woman I loved could never love me back. This was setting up to be even worse than the Robyn
situation I found myself in.
I had hoped that inviting Roe to my brother’s wedding in Mexico could be my opportunity to possibly push past her hard outer
shell. We’d see each other outside of Boulder. We’d lie by the pool or walk on the beach and dance to some music. I even hoped
she’d connect with Trista, who I think is a lot like Roe in the sense that neither of them come from traditional families.
I wanted her to see a different type of family. I wanted to show her that some people are worth taking a chance on. I wanted
to also break the pact I was in with my brothers because they both have obviously moved on from that. Maybe it was my turn
now too.
Then on night two, she dropped the bomb on me.
Told me she’s looking for a marriage of convenience.
Not love. Not soulmates. Not a happily-ever-after.
Just a simple contract.
So, we slept in our separate rooms in the villa, behaving like friends because that’s all we were and that was all we’d ever be. And after we got back, I lost my ever-loving mind and wrote her that letter, trying to save her from her dire circumstances, to which she rejected me like I was a joke.
Now I’m preparing for my friend, who I’m in love with . . .to marry another man.
“If you love her then you have to go for it, Luke,” Everly says, sounding desperate.
“I already tried once.”
“You didn’t try hard enough!” Everly urges, her blue eyes wide and excited. “We have to help her see. We need to spell it
out for her. We can go deeper than a letter. Maybe we can write up a pros and cons list of all the reasons a friend would
make a perfect fake husband. Things that will make her see that choosing you is so much better than choosing a stranger.”
“What if I have too much pride for that, Evie-girl?”
“Love is stronger than pride.” Everly grabs my arms and forces me to look at her, her blue eyes bright with determination.
“Best-case scenario, she falls in love with you back. Worst-case scenario . . . she doesn’t, and you’ve at least helped a
friend out and kept her safe. But then you’ll know and can finally move on with your life.”
I pull my hat off and rake my hands through my hair, agonized over this place I find myself in. A few years ago, I never even
wanted a girlfriend. Now I’m supposed to try to marry one of my closest friends as a manipulative way to get her to fall in
love with me?
Jesus, I’m pathetic.
Then again, watching Roe marry a stranger sounds too painful to watch. Not to mention dangerous as fuck.
Maybe Everly is right. Maybe I could even convince myself that I’m simply encouraging my friend to marry me for her protection.
That’s what a friend would do, not stand aside and leave her to face potential danger.
I can’t let her do this with just anyone when I’m obviously the safer choice.
I can help her with her situation and ensure her happiness and safety at the same time.
That’s definitely what a friend would do.
And if in the end, she doesn’t share my feelings, I’ll accept that as her choice and let her do what’s best for her. Even
though it will probably kill me.
“Let’s say she agrees to marry me this time. What then?” I ask, pushing the heaviness away from my chest as I pose this question
to my college-aged niece.
Everly smiles victoriously. “Then the real fun begins, and we figure out how to make your wife fall in love with you.”