11. Sophie
Sophie
I say, “Yes,” giving him a nod while my heart is racing, the blood pumping into every long-forgotten corner of my body, making it pulse with need I haven’t felt in so long, if ever.
One little sentence and I’m a mess.
What the hell is going on and how did we get here?
I swear, I thought I was still asleep when he showed up and asked me to marry him. I still think so, but now I’d rather not have anyone wake me up from this dream. I quite like it, and I’ll like it when he leaves me all alone in my apartment.
Just me, my imagination, and my vibrator. We will have a blast.
Because although I can feel the charged air surrounding us, affecting not only me, I know better than to think this is something it’s not. Like I keep telling my brother, I may be silly and eccentric, but I’m not stupid.
This is a mutually beneficial arrangement, just like Callum said earlier, and after giving it some thought, I agree. A stable relationship is a great way to show how adult I am to Vas.
No, I won’t think about what he’ll say to me after this is over. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.
Plus, I know I said I want a boyfriend, but I’m not actually ready for one.
I’m not ready to give up the freedom I’ve just found again.
I’m not ready to adjust to another person.
To hide my less savory sides and cook dinners every night.
I don’t want to be considerate, no matter how bad that sounds, but damn it, I just want to live for me without any pressure.
So, yes, this fake marriage is quite perfect.
Callum nods back. “Great,” he says, extending his arm out for a handshake that I’m watching with new appreciation. Those are some thick fingers… “And let’s keep it just between you and I.”
“Huh?” I look up, completely missing what he was just saying. Mind out of the gutter, Sophie. I repeat, mind out of the gutter. Now’s not the time .
“I said, let’s keep this a secret, yeah?”
I feel my nose scrunching. “Yeah, that’s not happening. I can keep a secret from everyone but Gracie. She’ll see right through me.”
Callum’s head tilts up as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Okay, can she keep a secret?”
“Most definitely. From everyone but Luke.”
“Hell no, that fucker can’t know what we’re doing here or else I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Um, aren’t you two best friends?”
“That’s exactly why he or Griffin can’t know. So, no one knows.” He pins me with his sheriff look.
“Is that supposed to scare me?” I quirk an eyebrow.
“Yes.” His jaw ticks.
“Yeah, it’s not working, quit scowling. You’re not that young anymore and wrinkles won’t go away. How old are you, by the way?”
“Thirty-four. You? ”
I sit up, grinning. “Twenty-seven. Can I call you Daddy?” Those green eyes the color of early spring darken.
“Sophie,” he growls threateningly, but the problem is I always like looking for trouble.
“Sir, then?”
That strong jaw of his, ticks. “If you don’t stop that shit right-fucking-now, I’ll show you who’s in charge real quick.”
I stick out my wrists over to him. “Handcuffs?” I bite my bottom lip, holding in the laugh that just begs to be let out. Gosh, it’s so fun to wind him up.
Callum tips his head up, mouthing something. “Are you counting to ten?”
“At this rate, I’ll need to count to a fucking thousand on a daily basis.”
That’s it. I let out that belly deep laugh, falling back to the couch behind me. “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun, Shrek.” I look back to him and find those eyes already on me. Or rather, on my jersey that rode up and now reveals the color of my panties.
My core tightens, feeling his gaze on those intimate parts and the need to bare myself to him all the way is almost overwhelming. Theè mou, this will be a difficult year. I sit up before I can add some more to the list of “Stupid Things Sophie Does” and waggle my finger at him.
“If you won’t touch it, then don’t look at it,” I tell him.
“I wasn’t—” he starts, but a quick raised eyebrow from me shuts him right up. We both know he was most definitely checking out my yellow, lacy panties.
“Okay, let’s see the ring?” I stick out the palm of my hand.
“What ring?”
“Callum? You came to ask the girl of your dreams to marry you without a ring?”
“You’re not the girl of my dreams. Nightmares, maybe.”
“Trust me, you’re not the knight in shining armor I was saving myself for either, but they don’t know that,” I whisper-shout, pointing at the door .
“Wait, you’re a virgin?” The look on his face is almost comical. And a little pale.
“Do I look like a virgin?”
“No, definitely not.”
“Gee, thanks, my husband thinks I’m a ho.”
“I didn’t say that—”
“Mm-hmm, sure.”
“Jesus, there’s no winning with you, is there?”
“Look at that, you’re already acing this marriage thing.” I wink. “Okay, okay, let’s talk details.”
“What details? We just go, get married, and call it a day.” He looks so clueless, it’s almost cute.
“Ha,” I snort out. “You’re hilarious today, Shrek. And what about the living arrangements? What about the things a couple in love should know about each other? Or nicknames! We don’t even have cute nicknames for each other!”
“Nicknames,” he deadpans. “You think this hinders on nicknames?”
“You can make all the fun you want of me, but if you think Love Hive will simply buy our love-at-first-sight crap only because we got married, think again.”
“Okay, fine. Nicknames.” He sighs. “What should I call you?”
“Let’s hear your options.” I close my eyes, tilting my head back to rest on the couch.
“Honey.”
“How original. No.”
“Baby.” I shake my head. “Sweetheart?” I feel my face twist like I’ve bitten something sour and bitter. That’s what Grace’s ex used to call her.
Callum groans. “What’s wrong with those?”
“Can’t you come up with something a bit more…I don’t know, original?”
“Those are what everyone uses.”
“No. My brother doesn’t.”
“What does he call his wife?”
“Witch. A pain in his ass, crazy woman—”
“Well, why didn’t you say so right away?” Callum snorts. “And to think I was stressing about this.”
He looks way too happy about this turn of events and I narrow my eyes at him. “Why?”
“Because I’ll just keep calling you little menace, vixen, firecracker, and a brat! See how perfectly those work.” He gives me a saccharine smile.
“I am not a brat!”
He snorts. “Yeah, you fucking are. Now, to the other questions. I guess we can live here?” He eyes my apartment with a frown.
“Hey, what’s that frown for?”
“It’s noth—did you have to make it this colorful?”
“Yes!” I stick my chin out. “Color is life.”
“Or my near death,” he murmurs and then says louder, “Fine, yeah, I guess we don’t have many other options.”
“Gee, sorry to make you live in my heaven.”
“And she says she’s not a brat.” The corners of his mouth tip up and I can’t help my own mimic his.
“Okay, so when do you want to do this? I always liked the idea of a winter wedding,” I muse to myself, my mind filling with the beautiful decorations and dresses and food and…my body is pulled from the daydream. Literally.
“Put on some pants, fiancée. We are doing this now.”