8. Derek
You’d think that I lost my mind with the way that Georgia is staring at me from across the table. Her left eye and nose twitch as she looks at me, her head tilted slightly.
“I’m sorry, but it sounded like you said we should stay married—I thought I misheard you earlier… but no, that was clear as day…” She gapes, her bunny teeth peaking out from under her top lip.
Taking a sip of the coffee I’d ordered while she was in the bathroom, I nod.
“Then you heard correctly, Blondie.”
She rolls her eyes, “Oh, don’t ‘Blondie’ me… You’re trying to tie me down and smirking while doing it.”
I chuckle lightly at her mocking tone before nodding again. “I am… The way that I see it, this marriage could be good for the both of us. An ‘I’ll wash your back if you wash mine’ ordeal…”
Georgia furrows her thick brows at me before clearing her throat. “I’m listening.”
That’s what I like about her—she’s always ready for any and everything. No matter how crazy the idea is.
“I need a wife, you need a buffer for your father’s wedding, and a way to get up in the fashion industry—I can help with both, Georgia,” I say, straightening up in the chair.
This arrangement between us can get me everything I need, plus more.
I need a wife, a way to get my inheritance, and finally be secure enough for Delilah.
And Deli needs a mom; she needs that maternal figure in her life.
There have been a lot of things that my mother has been wrong about when it came to parenting my daughter, but that was never one of them.
I can give Delilah everything in the world plus more, but she’ll always yearn for a mother.
She’s started asking more about her mom these past few weeks. Questions like “will I get to bring my mamá to dance class like the other girls?” and “will I have a mamá who can read me princess stories too?” have been plaguing both of our minds.
I want that for my daughter. I want someone who’d show up for her and be the caring maternal figure in her life, and Georgia is the right person.
She’s wild in a fun way, smart, and one of the most caring people I’ve met in a long time. Could she be a little less chaotic? Sure, but maybe that chaos is what we need to get out of our shells.
Marrying her would be like winning the lottery. She’s an emerald in a room full of diamonds—bold and electric.
She stares at me plainly from across the table, and I know that I have to save this marriage before she can deny us the chance to get somewhere.
“My inheritance is fifty million dollars—you joked about it last night, but that’s what it is.
I earn money from doing faceless cooking content on social media.
I cook for Deli and the guys most times.
I know people in the fashion industry and do brand deals frequently.
Help me, and I’ll help you. I won’t force you to do anything—ever. What’s mine will be yours.”
“So I was right? You’re filthy fucking rich…” she jokes, gnawing at her bottom lip. I watch as she thinks over what I’ve told her, her eyes closed before she sighs deeply, nods, and then shrugs.
“Okay, we’ll stay married, but if we’re to do this, we have to have rules, Derek. I don’t want to lose you as a friend if this all fails.”
Tilting my head, I narrow my eyes at her. “Failure isn’t an option.”
“Very caveman of you, indeed. Now, I know it’ll be hard considering I’m the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever met, but please… Don’t fall in love with me, Mama Bear,” she says, and even though she’s smiling and her tone is light, there’s an edge of seriousness to her.
Licking my lips, I grin.
“Firstly, you should be telling yourself that, Blondie. I’m amazing. Secondly, I’m starting to regret letting you and the guys call me that…” I chuckle, thinking about the rancid nickname I’d been tossed last year after the guys got me an apron with the saying “Mother knows best” on its chest.
“Har har,” she mocks. “Anyway, rule number three, we never go to sleep mad at one another.”
Gulping, I nod. Her sudden seriousness sends my hackles rising.
“Four, we’ll keep this between us for a while…” I say as she nods and takes a bite of her food.
“Sounds good to me. Five, if you want to have a one-night stand or—”
“I’ll stop you right there; you’re mine.
As soon as you agreed to be my wife five minutes ago, you became my wife.
I’m not sharing. And you don’t have to worry about me because I’ll be yours.
But I will say, rule number four is that we must stay married for six months.
I just need six months of your time, and then you can be rid of me, G. ”
Georgia’s eyes snap up from her plate as she furrows her brows.
“I won’t—”
Our phone’s buzzing cuts her last sentence off, clogging my throat.
What was she going to say? She won’t leave? Won’t wait six months to find love? What—
“Shit…” she curses under her breath, running a shaky hand through her hair.
“Zola just posted the wedding and tagged us...”