Chapter 9 #2
Her wince was confirmation enough.
“I figured you’d move in here. There’s plenty of room. Dean moved in with Dad to help when he finally got out of in-patient rehab after his accident. You’d have your own room, your own space, but we’d be under the same roof for anybody who wants to challenge the legitimacy.”
“Which there’s every chance Marla and Karen will try to do. Why would anyone believe we’d get married?”
“Because people love a good Romeo and Juliet story, minus the whole suicide part. Our families have been feuding for over a century. The public would eat up the idea that we had some secret relationship going all this time. We have enough legitimate history that we can pull it off.”
“History alone isn’t going to convince people.”
I understood what she was saying. “I mean, in public we’d have to sell the idea that we’re newlyweds.
So yeah, that would mean some PDA. But I won’t do anything you aren’t comfortable with.
If that means we just hold hands, and I kiss your cheek, and we make googly eyes at each other, then that’s what we’ll do. ”
Her lips twitched. “Googly eyes?”
I flashed a small grin in return. “Possibly I’ve been spending too much time with my niece, Oakleigh.”
“And how long would it last?”
“The will dictated by close of probate, right? So, however long that takes. Then we can get a quick, quiet divorce once all the legalities are sorted, and the bakery is a hundred percent yours.”
“Mr. Whitlock said six months to a year.” Her brows drew together in skepticism. “You’d really be okay spending up to a year of your life in a fake marriage?”
“I would. I am.”
“What about your own love life? I mean, obviously, you can’t maintain some other relationship on the side. Not in a town our size.”
“I’m not in a relationship. Haven’t been in a really long time, so that’s not a concern.”
She looked like she wanted to ask more about that but thought better of it. “You really have lost your mind.”
“Probably.” My mouth curved, though it didn’t feel much like a smile. “But it doesn’t change the fact that it’s the cleanest way forward.” I paused. “Unless you want to try your hand at the actual dating scene.”
Emmaline outright winced at that. “No, thank you.”
She twisted her hands back together so tightly her knuckles went white. I wanted to reach across the table, lay my hand over hers and reassure her she didn’t have to carry it all alone. But I stayed where I was. She had to make this choice on her own. I couldn’t push her into it.
At long last, her shoulders dropped. “I don’t exactly have any other options, so… I guess we’re doing this.”
A relief I didn’t want to analyze punched through me so sharp, it nearly stole my breath. Bracing my forearms on the table to hide my reaction, I leaned toward her. “I swear to you, I’ll do whatever I need to in order to make this as easy as possible on you.”
Her gaze was dark and unreadable, something between suspicion and surrender. I couldn’t quite read it, no matter how badly I wanted to.
“I already made an appointment with a justice of the peace down at the county seat.”
Both her brows shot up, a flicker of dry disbelief slipping through the exhaustion on her face. “Cocky much?”
“Practical,” I countered, leaning back in my chair to put space between us before I did something reckless. “The sooner we get this done, the better. Can you go with me day after tomorrow? If not, I’ll move it.”
Her mouth pinched, and I could see the regret already dawning in her eyes like she wanted to claw the words back, undo her agreement. But after a beat, she gave a small nod.
“What about witnesses?”
“I’ll take care of that, too.”
“Fine. Then I’ll see you Thursday.”
The scrape of her chair was loud in the quiet kitchen as she pushed to her feet. Rubble’s ears perked, tail thumping once against the floor, then fell silent again.
Emmaline crossed to the door with that same rigid spine I’d seen so often over the years, every inch of her posture screaming control when her world was crumbling. She paused, hand on the knob, but didn’t turn back. “Thank you for this, Bodie.”
“Anytime.” I meant it more than she could possibly know.
Then she was gone, the screen door snapping shut, leaving only the hollow echo of her absence.
For a long minute I sat there, staring at the chair she’d left empty, my pulse still thudding like I’d sprinted the ridge trail.
Relief, regret, and something warmer I refused to name twisted together in my chest until I couldn’t sit still anymore.
I dragged out my phone, thumb hovering for a second before I typed the only message that made sense.
Bodie:
Can you be back in the Hollow day after tomorrow?
It felt surreal even typing the words, like they belonged in someone else’s life. But the knot in my chest eased just enough once I hit send.
I knew Ramsey and Alia were tied up with some big book event in Charleston tonight, so I expected it to be awhile before I heard back. But the reply came back within just a few minutes.
Ramsey:
Why? What’s wrong?
What exactly did I say to my best friend to explain the situation I was in? I started and stopped several replies before I finally landed on the most direct approach.
Bodie:
I need you to stand up at my wedding.