Chapter 14 Miles
FOURTEEN
Miles
Little sisters are nothing if not predictable. And I can always rely on Ainsley to make my life awkward.
Lucy looks as though she’s frozen in place. Her cheeks are puffed out, as though she has a mouthful of hot toddy but hasn’t swallowed yet.
“Now look at what you’ve done,” I chide Ainsley as we both stare at Lucy.
Lucy finally swallows—and immediately starts choking. I move closer to pat her back.
When I invited Lucy to be my roommate, I’d considered all angles.
I don’t leap into big decisions like that without a decent amount of consideration.
I thought about what it would be like to share a laundry room.
Or if one of us brought home a date. Every scenario had gone through my mind—except one.
My family.
Never once did I consider that my sister would come over and propose marriage to my roommate for me.
With a sigh, I take the mug from Lucy’s hands and set it on the coffee table.
She lifts the collar of her sweatshirt to cough into.
It lifts her crop top higher and showcases her stomach—and I notice something.
She has a belly button ring and a tattoo.
I tip my head to the side, but then her shirt drops back down, and I can’t see what it is.
It’s then I realize that Lucy’s glaring at me. I don’t know if it’s because of my staring at the tattoo or the marriage proposal.
“Ainsley, please tell her you’re joking.”
Lucy nods emphatically.
“Oh, I’m not. I like her. Let’s keep her,” Ainsley says with a smile.
Lucy turns to me and holds her hand next to her face, as though hiding from Ainsley. “Why didn’t you warn me that your sister was going to propose?”
“Believe it or not, it came as a surprise to me too,” I whisper back.
Ainsley clears her throat loudly. “It’s only fair to let me explain why I would suggest it.”
Lucy’s still staring at me, her eyes wide. I grin at her. I haven’t seen her thrown off-balance like this yet. It’s actually kind of fun.
Finally, Lucy turns to speak to Ainsley. “Why would you think we would get married?”
Ainsley tucks her legs underneath her. “Oh, I know you haven’t even thought about it. But you already live together, and it would be perfect!”
“There’s a lot more to marriage than living together,” Lucy says dryly.
It’s hard not to laugh at those words, but then a lock of hair falls from her messy bun and rests against her neck. It’s mesmerizing as it lies there and lightly brushes her skin, and I have the sudden urge to do the same.
“Miles hasn’t told you anything?” Ainsley pries. She’s good at that.
“We don’t exactly sit around and have a sharing circle in the evening. The only time we sit on this couch together is to watch TV, not to talk,” Lucy says.
Ainsley scowls at this. “You’re definitely going to have to talk more than that if you’re going to make this work.”
Lucy’s glaring at Ainsley now, and it’s making me ridiculously happy.
Finally. Someone else gets to experience interfering-Ainsley.
Our baby sister Karis doesn’t meddle the way Ainsley does.
Karis minds her own business—a trait I haven’t been grateful enough for.
Usually, she’s the adored one. Precocious, outgoing, and loving to everyone she meets.
She hides an interfering, knows-what’s-best-for-you attitude under that nice shell.
“My grandma will pay you to marry him,” Ainsley states.
Lucy’s jaw drops open. She snaps it shut and then closes it again. “You…wait.”
She turns to face me. And she’s not glaring at me. Instead, she reaches over and pats my hand—pats it—and says, “Don’t worry. You’ll find somebody someday. You don’t have to pay someone to marry you.”
I’m stunned. She’s pitying me, and she’s worried about my feelings.
I flip my hand over and grasp hers. “It’s not that no one will have me; it’s that I haven’t found someone yet. And my grandma is determined to have great grandkids. She’s put a bounty on the first marriage.”
“You’re kidding.” She glances back and forth between Ainsley and me.
“Nope.” Ainsley and I say at the same time.
We have synchronized headshaking as she looks at us. Her hand is still on mine, and I do nothing to remove it.
“Normally, we wouldn’t be talking about getting married without a first date, but a super-annoying cousin of ours is threatening to marry his equally awful girlfriend.” Ainsley shudders. “I just want someone, anyone, except Preston to win the prize.”
“Why not you?”
Ainsley throws back her head and laughs. “I’m even further from getting married than Miles. I don’t even have a nice roommate to call.”
“Wait, I thought you had another sister. What about her?”
“She wants to finish college first. Besides, she’s only nineteen,” Ainsley says morosely.
“I know people who get married at that age,” Lucy offers helpfully.
I shake my head rapidly. “No, she has a boyfriend, but I would never put that pressure on her.”
“Just me.” Lucy says as she pulls her hand away, and I miss her touch.
“I’m not pressuring you to marry me. Ainsley is.”
Lucy turns to Ainsley. “Thanks for the offer, but Miles will have to find his wife the old-fashioned way.”
Ainsley’s eyes widen. “You mean a mail-order bride? That’s a great idea.”
“No!” Lucy exclaims with a laugh. “I mean by dating!”
I press a hand against my face as I fight a laugh. This night is getting increasingly awkward as we go. I don’t know if I should be embarrassed that I sound incapable of getting a wife, or angry with Ainsley and her uninvited intrusion, or if I should feel guilty about Lucy’s confusion.
“Besides, Grandma is paying the winning couple fifty thousand dollars. Imagine what you could do with that!”
“Yeah, I could finally buy the nice paper towels. Not the cheap, thin things we have in the kitchen.” Lucy mutters the last part, but I still hear her loud and clear.
I reach over and poke her arm. “I like those paper towels.”
She pokes me back. “Nobody likes those. It just means you’re either broke or a cheapskate.”
I clutch my chest. “You’re wounding me!”
“If you find someone to marry and you win that bet, you’re buying the thick paper towels for the house,” Lucy chimes in. I did buy the cheap paper towels last time I went to the store.
“It’s not happening,” I say as I glance at Ainsley, who’s looking disappointed.
“You guys won’t even think about it?” she asks forlornly.
“No,” Lucy and I say at the same time. We grin at each other and fist-bump.
Ainsley rolls her eyes. “I should have known I couldn’t count on you for this. I guess I’ll have to call Chet from the trucking company.”
“Chet’s sixty,” I remind her.
Chet, the truck driver who does a lot of deliveries for our store, is a nice man. But definitely not someone Ainsley would marry.
“Love doesn’t need a number,” she replies.
“Apparently, neither does revenge,” Lucy offers helpfully. “Okay, now that we’ve decided not to get married, I’m going to make us some panini.”
I jump up from my spot on the couch, eager to get away from my sister. “I’ll help.”