Chapter 17 Lucy
SEVENTEEN
Lucy
Miles stopped by the courthouse five days later and picked up the paperwork we needed to be legally married. I’m nervous, but still not too scared to actually back out.
I don’t know if I should give myself more time to consider this or not, but honestly, it seems like the light at the end of my tunnel. If I could pay off that student loan…I could finally breathe.
“Have you ever planned a wedding before?” I ask Miles.
“Only once.” He takes a long time to sip his coffee.
He was waiting for me when I got home from work, drinking coffee. I’m pretty sure his blood is ninety percent caffeine at this point. I notice he’s using the Stud Muffin cup.
I drop the paperwork on the counter. “What?” I gasp. “You never said anything about an ex-wife!”
Maybe that’s why he doesn’t have someone…his other person died. I open my mouth to ask, but freeze.
Miles sets down his coffee cup and grins at me. “Just kidding. No, I haven’t.”
“You’re lucky I don’t have a violent nature,” I mutter as I pick up the papers again. “Here I was, feeling sorry for you and your tragic past…”
He grins at me. “Nothing like that. I have never found someone worth giving up my freedom for.”
“Will you feel locked in with this?”
He shrugs. “It’s not as if it’ll be a real marriage, will it?”
“True. But we’ll at least beat Preston out of something.”
“Someday, I’ll find out what kind of mess he got my sister into that made her hate him so much.”
“When you find out, tell me because I’m curious too. Ainsley’s so nice. I can’t imagine being mean to her. I want to stick it to him as well.”
“Spoken like an older sibling.”
Something else we have in common. A protective feeling for our sisters.
I have to be sneaky—er, strategic—about my protectiveness, or Willa will balk against it.
I carefully write my Social Security number on the paper. “Are you and Ainsley planning an elaborate identity theft con with this?”
Miles lifts an eyebrow at that. “Oh, that reminds me.”
He walks around the island, and I feel the air shift behind me as he walks past. He turns the TV on in the living room and clicks on a new episode of Love & Lies. “The new episode is already available.”
“Can you turn it up a little? I need to learn how to hide my millions in an offshore account,” I joke as the intro to the show starts, highlighting key embezzlement and tax evasion schemes. It’s fun to learn about crimes I’d never commit—not because of morals, but because of a lack of money.
“What do you want for dinner?” I ask as I stare at the fridge.
“I ordered us a pizza.”
“Oh good. I’ll send you some money.”
I pull my phone out of my pocket to open my cash app, but it’s snatched out of my hands. I thought Miles was still in the living room, but here he is, standing next to me and slipping my phone into my back pocket. My breath catches as his fingers brush against me.
He steps back. “I’m paying for pizza. It’s the least I can do. We also need to talk about your rent.”
“All right…” I’m not sure what he wants to say about my rent. I’ve paid it on time. Maybe he wants to change the due date?
He turns to face me, leaning back against the counter and folding his arms across his chest. “You’re not paying rent.”
I stare at him in confusion. “Did the transaction not go through? I could have sworn there was enough money in my account.”
I reach for my phone, but Miles catches my wrist before I can grab it out of my pocket again.
“No, what I mean is, you’re not paying for rent anymore. We’re getting married. I’m not charging you rent.”
I laugh. “Miles, it’s not like we’re getting married for real. I’ll still pay you rent.”
“It’s legally binding. You’re not paying rent.” He gives me a stern look when I start to argue with him.
I stare at the hand encircling my wrist. “I’m definitely paying rent.”
“Don’t fight me on this—you won’t win.” His voice is low and threatening.
I reach backward and slam the fridge door shut, silencing the annoying beeping sound it was making.
Narrowing my eyes at him, I take a step closer to him and poke a finger at his chest. It’s a very hard chest. “If I want to pay you rent, I will. There’s nothing you can do about it.”
“I don’t think so.” He laughs, then taps my nose. Freaking taps my nose with his index finger.
I hate when people touch my nose.
I reach for my phone in my back pocket with my free hand. I pull it out and open the app with my thumb.
“Fine. I’ll drop a lump sum to you.” I give him a smug smile and turn back to focus on my task. “I just got paid yesterday, so I’ll just pay ahead on my rent.”
I don’t get very far. Miles releases my wrist and wraps an arm around my waist, lifting me off the ground and holding me against his side. With his other hand, he grabs my phone and slides it into the back of his jeans pocket. I kick my feet and smack at him, but he doesn’t put me down.
“Good grief, Miles. It’s just rent.”
“And you’re struggling.” His voice is annoyingly patronizing, and his muscles are far too hard.
“Of course I’m struggling. You’re holding me!”
He smirks down at me. “I meant financially.”
“Yes, and you’re supposed to be polite and ignore that.”
“You agreed to marry me when I said you could have seventy percent.”
“It’s a sound business decision. We live together already, and that chunk of money will help me out of that stupid high-interest student loan.” I sigh. “Are you getting tired yet? You’re still holding me.”
“I’ll hold you however long it takes to get my way.”
“Miles Granger, you’re a bully.”
“Nah, I’m the oldest in my family and used to getting my way.”
“Through physical force,” I grind out as I grasp his arm and try to slither out of his hold. No such luck. He’s got arms of steel. “I need to go to the gym more,” I wheeze as I try—and fail—to get him to release me.
“Lucy, you’re doing me a huge favor. My grandma and my mom will stop pestering me. Ainsley and I will finally beat Preston at something. As of now, you’re done paying rent.”
I’m still awkwardly draped over his arm, my feet dangling just a little too high above the floor for me to stand up.
I crane my neck, trying to look him in the face. I’m very aware of the fact that my future husband is holding me like he has a sleeping bag tucked under his arm.
“I hope you realize I’m thinking about biting you.”
He grins down at me like he’s willing to take the risk.
But the longer we stare at each other, the more serious he becomes. I don’t know if it’s mere seconds or minutes that pass before he clears his throat and releases me to stand on my own again.
I wobble just a bit, and he catches my elbow before I bump into something.
“Lucy…” His voice is low as he looks down at me. Something flits across his eyes that I can’t quite interpret. “We’re going to have to figure this out one step at a time. I know this is all pretend, but we’re going to have to work together to pull this off.”
“And how does my not paying rent help?”
“It eases my conscience,” Miles says.
I wait for him to laugh, but he continues staring at me like he’s dead serious.
The paperwork is finished, and the wedding date is scheduled with a local justice of the peace. I’m not sure who, but the court clerk assured us that someone with the proper marrying capabilities would be there to make it all legal.
The next morning, I call Miles as I walk into the coffee shop. I left early enough to grab a mocha before work. “We forgot something important.”
“We did?”
“Yes. We’re going to need witnesses, aren’t we?” I ask.
Miles grunts. “I kind of forgot about that part. I’ll probably ask Ainsley to be my best man. That will make it look good to the family too. It’ll add some authenticity.”
“Should I tell Willa?”
“I don’t know. How do you think she’ll take it?”
Good question. “Maybe I’ll feel her out. Should I tell her what we’re doing? Are we making a big deal out of this?”
Miles grunts. “Really, there’s no reason for anyone here to know. It’s not like they ever see my family.”
I sigh at that. That’s a relief. Willa already questions a lot of my life choices. I think me getting married for money might send her over the edge. “Okay. Are two witnesses enough?”
“I think so. I haven’t been married before, so I’m going based on what I’ve learned in the movies.”
“Let’s be prepared with them just in case.”
I pay for my caramel mocha and take the coffee to go. I have an on-farm visit first thing this morning. Preg-checking a hundred cows sounds a lot easier than thinking about my wedding.
At lunch time I finally make the decision to call Willa. I’m going to tell her. She needs to know.
“Hey, I’m so glad you called. I was going to call you and let you know that I’ll be out of town this weekend.”
And I’m calling to let you know that I’m getting married this weekend, I think to myself, but I don’t say it out loud.
“Oh, okay. Well, I was just calling to see if you’re free on Saturday, but I guess not.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I had so much fun having coffee with you, and I was going to see if you wanted to do something this weekend. But now Kingston and I are going to meet with someone in Portland about interior design on the commercial space.”
“Oh, that’s okay. We’ll catch up when you get back.”
“Okay, that sounds great. Thanks, Lucy. I love you.”
“I love you too,” I say back without hesitation.
Willa is not the most forthcoming with words of affirmation, so I take it where I can get it.
But with her being out of town this weekend, that leaves me without a maid of honor. And now I have to figure out who my witness will be. Someone who won’t think this is outlandish. Someone who’s done things similar to this.
I need someone who won’t judge me for the choice I’m about to make.
And there’s only one name that comes to mind.
Margaret.
After work, I drive across town and park my car in front of Margaret’s house. As I walk up the sidewalk that’s lined with little round shrubs, I wonder if this is a bad decision. Maybe I should have ruined my sister’s weekend plans and told her I was getting married.
I step onto the concrete porch leading up to the cute, old-style home. I knock on the door and hear some shuffling before it swings open.
Margaret looks at me in surprise. “Lucy, how are you? What are you up to?”
Clearing my throat, I deliberately avoid both questions and jump right into it. “I’ve heard a lot about you from both Willa and Meyer. And if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have been able to move to Green Valley. And because of that, I kind of have a big favor to ask.”
“Oh dear, this sounds like you’d better come in and sit down. I have some cinnamon rolls.”
She’s a woman after my own heart. Baked goods can make any problem seem smaller.
I follow her inside, taking my shoes off before stepping onto the plush rug layered over the hardwood floor.
Margaret walks into the kitchen, takes the lid off a pan, and scoops out cinnamon rolls onto two plates. She walks back into the living room, hands me a plate, and sits down in her favorite chair. I’ve only been here a handful of times, but it’s the only place I’ve ever seen her sit in her house.
“Now, why don’t you sit down there and tell me all about it? I’m sure I can help.”
“I have a little bit of a problem, and I’m going to need to swear you to secrecy.”
She lowers her voice as she asks, “Do you need some sort of legal help? Because I know a guy who can make some fake IDs.”
I grin at that because, of course, her immediate response to helping someone would be to help them flee the law.
“No, it’s more like…I have money problems.”
Margaret frowns at that. “Are they not paying you enough at the clinic? Because I could talk to the owner.”
“No, they’re paying me a fair wage there. I just have a huge student loan to pay off. And I have a way to do that. I just have to do a favor for a friend.”
“And what is this favor?”
“I have to marry him.”
Margaret’s plate falls to the ground with a loud clank.
The remaining half of the cinnamon roll splats onto the hardwood.
She sucks in a sharp breath and bends down to pick it up, setting it on the plate, then resting the plate on her lap.
I have not seen Margaret stunned before, so this is a first.
“Well, do you like this friend?” She’s trying to sound nonchalant, but I can hear the curiosity in her voice.
“Yeah, I do. He’s a great friend.”
“Would this end up being a real marriage?”
“No, I don’t think so,” I say. “But the thing is, it does need to be a legal marriage. We need the marriage certificate, and we will probably stay married for…I don’t know how long. We haven’t put a set time on it yet.”
“And you need a favor from me in this? Do you want my advice, or do you want my help?”
“Maybe both,” I say sheepishly.
“All right, tell me about this boy that you might marry.”
“It’s Miles.”
Margaret’s eyes go wide, and then she slowly grins.
“Well, isn’t this a wonderful development?
I just knew you two would be perfect for each other, which is why I insisted he let you move in.
He didn’t want to at first—oh no, I had to convince him, and I’m so happy I did because you two are just right for each other. ”
I have to correct her before she gets the wrong idea. “No, this isn’t a real marriage. Like, we’re just going to get married and keep being roommates.”
“Most people are,” Margaret says sagely.
“It’s not going to be that way. Just a contract that’s legally binding and we pretend to be a happy couple in front of his family,” I blurt out so fast that there’s not really any space between my words.
Margaret stares at me for a moment, then slowly sets down her plate on the small coffee table next to her chair.
“Let me see if I understand this. You and Miles are going to get married. And it’s going to be a pretend marriage.
You’re going to trick his family into thinking you’re madly in love, and you want me to help you. Do I have it right?”
I cringe but nod slowly.
Margaret grins. “Where do I sign?”