CHAPTER 24 Tatum Barker
Twenty-Two Days
I’m not going to turn away business. That would be stupid.
But six weeks? Six weeks! She wants to move the wedding, I’m trying not to freak out, Ford disappeared, and six weeks?
Six weeks.
I’m still wrapping my head around it, but I can’t seem to find a reason not to get that money back. The note said there were no other strings attached to the money, that we just had to be the first wedding there. An idea sparks in my mind.
“What about holding the ceremony somewhere else? Like maybe at your church? And then just having the reception here?” It could be the loophole I’ve been searching for.
She shakes her head. “I want the ceremony here. Right here, actually.” She nods to the yard where we’re standing, and she spreads her arms around to indicate what she means.
“A quick one. No chairs, even, except one for my grandmama. I want our guests to be in a circle around us instead, and then the reception inside where the tables are already set up. We’ll keep it simple since we cut planning time. ”
“I can make that work,” I say weakly. I feel like I’m going to throw up.
Could I really marry my ex-boyfriend’s brother in some crazy bid to get the money back from this place?
Yes. The answer is yes.
It’s five million dollars. Twice as much as the trust fund I blew through to put up my half of the capital for this place.
This is my future. These are my goals and my dreams being served up to me. This is a gift from the universe. You don’t reject gifts from the universe, or you may never get another one.
And that’s what I tell Ford after Devon and Lindsay cut us a check for the deposit to hold their date here at the manor.
I close the door behind them and lean on it, and his eyes meet mine.
“What are you thinking?” he asks carefully.
I don’t want to go first, but I do. “The universe is giving us a gift, and we can’t reject that gift even if the way to claim that gift is a bit nontraditional.”
“So you’re a yes, then,” he says flatly. It’s not a question but a statement.
“What are you?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “I’m trying to think it all through. Would we tell Archer the truth? Would we invite our families? Tell them? Would we need to start being seen publicly so it’s not such a huge shock when we show up married?”
I bite my bottom lip as I contemplate his questions—all things I didn’t consider at all with those dollar signs in my eyes, but he’s a public figure, and so is everybody else in his family.
“We should tell Archer. It would be too big a shock for him to find out from the media that we’re suddenly married.
We could tell everyone close to us, and they can decide if they want to attend, or we could just do it and tell Winston’s lawyer that we had to make it quick since we had a wedding booked. ”
“What if it got back to Ms. Winston that we’re not a couple?” he asks.
“She said no strings attached.” Besides…what if we do become a couple? We’re in a weird timeline where that could actually happen.
“I can’t just get married,” he points out. “My life is under a microscope. You sure you want those headlines?”
I sigh, not sure how to answer that. I don’t care about the headlines, really.
I’m more focused on what would happen if we got married and then things started to work out for us.
Is it a possibility? Maybe. We already have feelings for each other.
Maybe I was with the wrong brother the whole time, and this was always meant to be where I’d end up.
I won’t know if I don’t give it a try. The money is the motivator here, obviously. But there are other reasons to marry Ford. There doesn’t have to be an expiration date on us.
I turn toward the windows like the answers will be out there. They aren’t. It’s still just a gorgeous yard overlooking a dock and water beyond that.
Eventually, he sighs. “Doesn’t it feel like dirty money if we’re doing it for the wrong reasons?”
His logic is both something I love and hate about him.
“So, what do you suggest, then?” I ask. “It’s a lot of money to leave on the table, Ford. Maybe I could even find a way to use my portion to finance the Bradley Mansion, or we could invest together in that like we did this one.”
His jaw works back and forth as he clenches it, and it’s really fucking hot when he does that.
We have feelings for each other. We’ve known each other a long time. Would it really be so bad to jump into this with him?
No. The answer is definitely no, it wouldn’t be so bad at all. At least I don’t think it would be.
I wish I had someone I could sort through this with that wasn’t as invested as Ford is. But the truth is that I have Kenzie, who wouldn’t understand because she’s in the perfect marriage already, my brother, who I don’t talk to about things like this and would pick Ford for me anyway, and…Ford.
He’s who I would call.
I throw myself wholly and totally into my projects, and since college, my projects have been Archer and my business. It’s why I don’t have close girlfriends except for the woman I hired who works in the office next to mine.
So now that one project has ended and the other has the chance to accelerate at a high rate of speed, what am I supposed to do? I can’t talk to Archer about it, that’s for damn sure.
So where do I turn?
I’m staring at the answer, and we’re talking it out. Still, it would help to have an opinion from someone with no skin in the game.
His eyes edge over to mine, and we stare off for a few beats as we each think this thing through.
I’ve gotten by on my own instincts just fine up to this point, and something is telling me yes.
It’s like it’s pumped through the air vents in this place or something.
I was sure when I brought Ford upstairs and talked him into going halfsies on this place with me.
And I’m sure about this, too. “I think we should do it.”
His brows shoot up in surprise. And then, as if there’s also something pumped through the air vents that causes practical people to make absolutely impractical decisions, he nods. “Then let’s do it.”
My jaw drops at his words. “Are you serious?”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Do you not want to?”
“No, I do. I just thought you’d be the one to talk some sense into me.”
“When it comes to you, I’m not sure I have any sense at all.”
I rush at him and fling my arms around his neck.
His response is a soft oof even as he loops his arm around my waist. “You ready to be Mrs. Bradley?”
The name sends a shot of something down my spine.
I’ve been ready to be Mrs. Bradley since I was in high school. It’s just not the Bradley I thought it would be.
And I’m starting to think this one’s even better…even though I’ll likely have to keep my name since it’s attached to all my branding.
He’s been standing right in front of me this entire time, and I was too blinded by Archer to see.
But I see him now, and I can’t wait to get planning for the future I never saw coming.
It feels like I have a ton of big decisions to make, and it’s not just cake flavors and guest lists and choosing the best date for us.
It’s about where to live. Where to work. Where to place my next investment.
The day after we agreed to get married, I can’t stop pulling up the listing for the Bradley Mansion. There are just so many precious memories there in that house—and not solely with Archer, but with Ford, too.
It’s a piece of our history. It’s that fallen kingdom imagery, and I want to be the one who steps in and gives life back to a place that seemed to have lost everything.
I flip through the photographs on Zillow. I labor over every single one. I envision the walls we could knock down, working with the Bradley Group—my brother-in-law—on a project that would be close to his heart, too, since it’s where he grew up.
I can’t stop looking at the view of the Chicago skyline, either. It’s so gorgeous from the mansion’s backyard, an image that nearly looks photoshopped.
I see a bride and a groom standing there, two people who adore their hometown and chose this city as the backdrop of the most special day of their lives.
I force myself to close the window.
I have a shitload of work to accomplish now that I’m planning not one but two weddings set to take place in a town I’m still getting to know, and the last thing I should be doing is staring at Zillow.
And to that end, once Ford is home from practice, I bring up my living situation over dinner.
“Have you thought about our living arrangement at all?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I assumed you’d stay with me. Are you moving somewhere else?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, I don’t have a home back in Vegas anymore. I moved out of the house I shared with Archer, moved my stuff into storage, and crashed with a friend when I went back for the charity event and the wedding. But what are your thoughts on me moving here?”
“Like here here? Permanently?” he asks, indicating his condo with a fork.
“Ideally, yes. Here here. In Tampa. With you. Since we’re getting married.” The words still feel strange coming out of my mouth. I can’t believe this is really happening as quickly as it is.
He looks a little dazed. “Right. Yes, of course. Move in. Bring whatever you want. I can arrange a moving truck to get your stuff here if that’s what you’d like so it feels like your home, too.”
“I don’t want to overstep.” I pop a french fry into my mouth.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I love having you here, and you’re right. If we’re getting married, we should live together. It makes the most sense.”
None of this makes any sense at all, but I keep that thought to myself.
“When should we do this?” I ask quietly.
“Move in?”
“Get married.”
“It has to be before…” He trails off, prompting me.
“January eighteenth is Lindsay and Devon’s wedding.”
His eyes widen. It’s December ninth now. That doesn’t give us a whole lot of time.
“New Year’s Eve.” He says it with finality rather than as a question.
“New Year’s Eve?” I ask.
He lifts a shoulder. “It’s always seemed like such a meaningful holiday to me, don’t you think? It’s a chance to celebrate the good stuff and leave behind the bad stuff. It feels like a new marriage is sort of celebrating the same thing.”
“Ford Bradley,” I taunt. “I didn’t peg you as a romantic.”
His eyes are hot when they meet mine. “You never gave me the chance.”
His vulnerable words pulse a pit deep in my stomach.
According to his brother, Ford has had feelings for me for a long time. And now I’m jumping straight to marriage with him without any of the other stuff first. I can only imagine what’s going through his mind right now.
I bite my lip, and then I say, “I know we said we’d wait, but what if I don’t want to wait? What if I want to experience life with you now? The ups, the downs, the joys, and the hard stuff. All of it.”
He looks surprised at my words, and then he surprises me with words of his own. “Go out on a date with me.”
“What?”
“Let’s go out on a date. A real date, not some charity event.
Though I do have tickets to a black-tie event next week if you want to make our red-carpet debut.
But I mean something just for the two of us.
Date me. Let me take you to dinner and a movie.
Let me hold your hand in public and kiss you goodnight.
Let’s see how it goes for the next twenty-two days, and we can decide if we want our wedding night to be the night. ”
“The night?” I repeat.
“The night I finally get you naked in my bed,” he says darkly.
A tight ache throbs between my legs.
And suddenly, just like that…I don’t know if I can wait twenty-two days.