9. Colton
“Reintegration. Reconnaissance. Seeding.”
It’s an easy answer, even if my intention wasn’t so simple.
Zee heaves a sigh that does nice things to her sweater.
Not that I notice.
Much.
Still, I never imagined what I’d uncover as I put my plan into action.
The town brings out the pitchforks and torches especially for her. Humiliating her was never my intention, but I can see why she’s embarrassed.
Zee’s gaze is contemplative as she muses, “You’re getting them used to seeing me with you… while getting to know me… That conversation with Hilary shifted things though. And this interaction with Lydia will cement it.
“Everyone in Pigeon Creek will know that I’m a ‘close friend’ when it’s common knowledge that our families hate one another.
“The problem is, of course, people know we’re not friends. They haven’t seen me around, and if I don’t visit the town, only the ranch, they know when I’m here. They make sure to lock away their lighters,” she reasons. Though, that has to hurt. No matter her nonchalance. “They know I live in New York. They know you’re mega-rich and the family has properties everywhere so they’ll?—”
“—think you’re my girlfriend and that we’ve been dating long distance,” I agree.
She grits her teeth. “You bastard.”
“Why am I a bastard? Isn’t it better for them to think that than for it to be about business?”
“Like you care what people think of you!”
“I care what they think of you,” I grate out as we approach my truck.
“Bullshit. This morning, you didn’t give a damn?—”
“You’re going to be Mrs. Korhonen, Zee. I protect what’s mine.”
“I’m not yours.”
“Not yet. I’ll be yours too. Won’t that be fun?”
Amusement flickers over her expression. Hard and fast but it acts like a bucketful of water on the flames of her temper.
“You’re not what I expected, Colton,” she declares, eventually passing judgment as I open the door to the passenger seat. “And I didn’t expect much because Grand-mère dumped this on my lap a few hours ago. At least you haven’t turned into your father.”
Our gazes lock.
Hold.
“No. I’m not a monster, Zee.”
“Neither am I,” she whispers.
“I know.”
“You didn’t.”
“No,” I concede.
“You believed I was capable of something terrible.”
“I did.”
She clicks her fingers. “And it all changes like that?”
“You asked the right question.”
“I should have asked it ten years ago.”
“You should have. It probably would have made me see sense.” It’s not much, but… “I’ve always defended you. Today wasn’t the first time.”
“Whoopee,” she mocks.
“Don’t joke. I thought you’d killed Loki. Betsy. Our herd.I defended you to Cole who grieves her as much as I do Loki and told Callan you had nothing to do with it.”
“You should have had faith in me. Shouldn’t have just lied for my sake.” Her hands flare wide. “You should have believed me, goddammit.”
“I should have.”
She sags. “I didn’t think you’d concede as easily as you have. I asked about the fire, I don’t know, to make you see how insane the idea of us getting married would be. I-I thought if you backed out, Grand-mère wouldn’t make me go through with it. This entire thing feels… too easy.”
“Both of us are being dragged into this. There’s no reason to make it hell for whatever time we’re together.” I decide to go for broke. “I’ve already lived through my parent’s hellish marriage. I’ve no desire to punish any kid we may have with that too.”
My candor appears to have done something all my other reassurances haven’t.
Softly, Zee nods in assent and takes a seat in the cab.
And that’s that.
Because everyone in Pigeon Creek knows what my mum endured as Mrs. Clyde Korhonen.
It’s a bitter pill to swallow that that’s what makes her accept our mutual fate, but I’ll take the win. Especially as it removes our argument from Main Street and the eyes of the town.
A five-minute ride later and I’m pulling up outside her friend’s place. Christy MacFarlane’s father is the elementary/middle school’s principal and he’s less of a fan than I’d like.
Despite a donation for a new computer lab and special free sessions for the kids at the ‘Cole Korhonen’ rink.
I guess I know why he doesn’t like me now—Zee.
“Before you go, we should exchange numbers,” I prompt.
“You’re right.”
I rattle mine off and watch her text me.
Once that’s done, I order, “Wait there.”
She frowns as I jump from behind the wheel and round the fender.
As I open her door, I hold out my hand for her to take.
She glares at it.
“I don’t need any help.”
I shift closer. Lean over her. Unfasten her seatbelt and move aside, hand held in the same position as before.
“You’re my fiancée,” is all I say. “That comes with expectations in town.”
Her eyes narrow on me but she slowly slides her fingers over my palm.
As I stand in place, I wait for her to clamber down.
Her jaw works as she stares at me.
There’s a big height difference between us despite her being tall.
“I’ll be in touch,” I inform her, amused when her lips settle into a flat line.
It’s giving old schoolmarm vibes, but she’s pretty enough to make it work.
Unable to stop myself, I settle my thumb on her chin. When she continues glaring at me with a defiance that’d fit if I’d said something to piss her off, I murmur, “You’ll learn, Zee.”
“What will I learn?”
“What it means to be a Korhonen.”