CHAPTER 23 Ford Bradley
Six Weeks
The only requirement is that yours is the first wedding at the manor after ownership has transferred.
We let her think we were a couple. That was our first mistake.
Or was it?
I’m stuck somewhere in the middle on that, to be honest.
This is my chance. My shot to prove we belong together.
But literally last night, I rejected her advances and told her we needed to wait until she was ready. It’s barely been twelve hours since that conversation, yet here we are, considering planning a wedding to each other because someone else told us to.
Who would say no to marrying the only woman they’ve ever loved for a cool five mil?
Nobody in their right mind, that’s for damn sure.
And she does need the money so she can invest in her business.
It’s quite the conundrum. Quirky old people and their quirky conditions.
I do my best to put it out of my mind as we give the tour to Devon and Lindsay.
“I need to move up the date a bit,” I hear Lindsay say to Tatum as we stand in the backyard overlooking the dock.
“Move it up?” Tatum squeaks, clearly losing her cool at that.
Lindsay rubs her stomach. “I’m pregnant!”
“Congratulations,” Tatum says, and I can hear the anxiety in her tone.
I’m sure she’s happy for the happy couple and their upcoming baby news, but this is going to force a timeline on us that we certainly weren’t expecting.
“You had mentioned in the offseason before, around June, which gave us six months to plan. When are you thinking of moving it up to?”
“I don’t want to be showing in photos, and I’m already eight weeks. So we were thinking no later than six weeks.”
“From now?” Tatum squeaks again.
“From now.” She pulls out her phone and taps around. “So say…no later than January nineteenth.”
“But what about playoffs?” Tatum asks. “You won’t be showing that much yet if you wait until, say, mid-February, right?”
“I mean, I’ll be eighteen weeks by then, so yeah. I might be pretty bloated.” She shrugs. “It’s one day out of the week, and Dev won’t care. Actually, let’s do that Monday before the nineteenth so we can have one night off together.”
“So six weeks from yesterday,” Tatum says flatly.
“Yes. Six weeks from yesterday, and definitely here. This is the most romantic, perfect venue we’ve seen. Can you pull that off?” Lindsay asks.
I’m trying to catch Tatum’s eye. I’m trying to give her some sort of signal to tell her no, to plainly express that we cannot possibly pull off a wedding here in six weeks.
“Yes, of course,” Tatum says, and my heart drops down into my stomach.
If she wants that money, which I know she does, then that means she needs to marry me in less than six weeks.
Fuck.
My phone starts to ring, and it’s my realtor back in Chicago. “I’m so sorry, but I need to take this,” I say, and I head inside to take the call in privacy. I wander upstairs to the top floor as I answer. “Ford Bradley.”
“Mr. Bradley, it’s Sonny Russo. I just got an offer on the mansion and wanted to share it with you.”
My chest tightens.
“It’s a little lower than asking, but I don’t think it’s unfair. There are a few pieces of furniture they’d like to keep as well as the appliances and built-ins.”
“What’s the offer, Sonny?” I ask, staring out the window at the view here.
“Fourteen.”
“That’s a million dollars lower than asking,” I say. It’s definitely unfair. They’re lowballing me, and I know what that place is worth.
“So negotiate,” he says. “If I were you, I’d take it. But I understand the attachment.”
“I’m not attached,” I hiss, and I know he only said that to get a rise out of me. “I’ll give them their concessions for fifteen.”
“I’ll take it back to them, but I think this is a mistake,” he says.
“I’m not paying you for your opinions, Sonny.” It’s more curt than I’m used to being with him, but this isn’t some backyard deal. This is a fifteen-million-dollar mansion.
“No, Mr. Bradley. You’re right. You’re not paying me at all until there’s a sale. That’s what I’m trying to get for you.”
“Fifteen,” I say. “Not a penny lower.”
“Yes, sir.”
I cut the call and draw in a breath as I contemplate what the fuck I’m supposed to do here, and I’m coming up short.
I know I should wait, but I need to process this through before I make a decision, and with less than six weeks to spare, I don’t have the time to make an informed decision.
Before I even realize what I’m doing, I press the button to call my sister. She’s one of the few people I can confide in when times get tough, and if this isn’t tough, well…I don’t know what is.
“Ford?” she answers.
“Hey. Is this a bad time?”
“Not at all. What’s going on?”
“I just got an offer on Mom and Dad’s place.”
“How much?” she asks.
“Fourteen million.”
“I hope you said no,” she says.
I chuckle. “I did.”
“So why are you calling?”
“I’m, uh…” I trail off as I try to find the words. “I’m in a bit of a situation here.”
“What is it, and how can I help?”
“I kissed her.”
“Kissed who?”
“Tatum,” I murmur.
“Oh. Oh! And?”
“She kissed me back. She told me she has feelings for me, and I fucking blew it.”
“What? How?” she asks.
“She just got back from Vegas, from visiting Archer. She said they’re done, and she also said he gave her permission to be with me.
” I stare down at her, below me in the yard.
She’s laughing with Lindsay, and she flips her hair over her shoulder as if we don’t have this huge weight settling between us at the hands of some quirky old woman.
“Wow. That’s big,” she says.
“Yeah. I guess. But it just felt…I don’t know. Wrong. Like we shouldn’t need someone’s permission to be together. So I backed off and told her I wanted to wait until she was really ready.”
“Oh, Ford.” She sighs. “You’re such a good guy.”
“It was selfish, Ev. I didn’t do it to be good. I did it because I didn’t want to be a rebound,” I say.
“Who could blame you for that? It was the right thing to do. When the time is right, it’ll work out.” Her words feel like generalized platitudes that anyone could say about anything at any time.
I blow out a breath. “You know how Tatum and I went in on a wedding venue together?”
“Mm-hmm,” she prompts.
“There was a letter from the owner today. It said the money we paid for the mansion is in a trust that will revert back to us if ours is the first wedding that takes place here,” I blurt.
Everleigh is silent on the other end of the line.
“Well?” I prompt.
“Shit, Ford. I don’t know what to say. How much money are we talking?”
“Enough for Tatum to invest in other properties. Enough to make her dreams come true. Enough to make mine come true, too…just not the way I want it.”
“That’s the problem with dreams,” she murmurs. “Either we get it and it’s not everything we thought it would be, or it comes around in a way we never could have expected.”
“How is that true for you? You’ve got it all.”
“Yeah, now, sure. Everything’s been great for the last month, but it was a hell of a road to get here.
Remember a few months ago when I said I’d never work with an athlete?
” She laughs after she says it because now she only works with athletes.
“I got what I wanted in the end, but not at all how I expected. And maybe that’s what this is for you, too.
Maybe instead of taking it slow and dating, you marry her and then get her to fall for you.
Just, like, pick up around the house, okay?
Nobody falls for the guy who leaves dirty socks on the floor. ”
“Duly noted,” I say dryly. It feels strange having this conversation here in this place, like Ms. Winston is watching and can hear me, like she’ll know that even if we do go through with it, it’ll be a sham. Except…will it be? “Well, thanks, I guess.”
She laughs. “You’ll make the right decision, Ford. Of all the Bradley siblings, I feel like you’re somehow the one who ended up with the strongest gut instincts.”
I hope she’s right because wherever my gut leads me this time has the potential to change my life forever.