15. Champion #2
Once that was taken care of, I walked out of the building only to have Jezebel’s blue Betsy pull up while she shot me a mega-watt smile because I’d taken care of the problem.
I’d only had to marry a Kitten to do it.
She’d rather die than get married, but death didn’t solve any problems, just left them for someone else to take care of.
I got in the passenger’s seat and turned to study her. “How was China?”
“I ran into an old friend.”
I raised a brow while she pulled into traffic, cutting off a guy in a big truck who laid on the horn. She didn’t seem to notice, but the way she’d pulled her pistol, she definitely did. Jezebel didn’t have friends. “That’s unexpected. Was he a lot of fun?”
She laughed and sounded crazy. I was surrounded by psychopaths. I was comfortable with that, so why did I like being with Sunshine so much? “Oh, Nix, I got three new scars from it. Of course I had fun.”
“As long as your fun didn’t interfere with business.”
She shot me a look over her sunglasses, brown contacts golden like whiskey. “Now you’re being funny. And you? You’re different. Look like a rattler that got his tail stepped on.”
Did I? Maybe I was slightly on edge from staying up all night holding a woman I wanted more than anything but couldn’t have. “I’ve gotten married.”
She slammed on the brakes, but I was expecting that, so I could stay lounging on my side of the car, leg braced for impact.
She took off her sunglasses and turned to stare at me with an expression of disbelief.
After that, her gaze went to my left hand where I was sporting Kitten’s very charming carved wooden wedding band.
She reached for it, but I pulled away. “Careful, it’s delicate.”
She sputtered while the car behind her honked.
She pulled out her gun and shot in the air, and the truck went around her, strangely quiet and careful for some reason.
“Nix, you got married? You sold yourself for the company? You big idiot! You poor thing. You must have been heavily medicated to have gotten yourself to the altar. And I was in China so I couldn’t stop you.
Nothing’s worth it. Do you want me to help with her?
I could kidnap her and put the fear into her. Or torture her.”
I laughed. Her reaction was very sweet for her. “I didn’t know you cared. No, Kitten’s for protecting. This is important to me. Anyone harms her is dead. Anyone breaths on her wrong is in traction. I’m married to her to protect her from a psychopath stalker who shot me.”
“Ah. Blood loss. That explains it. Still, Kitten?” She winced and shook her head. “You married a tourist?”
“No. She’d never be a tourist in Las Vegas. She’s one hundred percent civilian and not interested in this scene. She actually thinks I’m a home health nurse when I’m not working on my self-defense classes.”
She pulled slowly back out into traffic, ignoring the backup she’d caused. “This just gets better and better all the time. You can’t run that kind of lie in Vegas, Nix.” She gestured at the billboard we passed of me and Dirk without shirts.
“I get that. I just want to break it to her gently.”
“And marrying this delicate rose is placating the monster?”
I sighed heavily. Jezebel knew too much, but she didn’t usually poke around in other people’s business.
“She doesn’t know we’re married, just together.
Marriage wasn’t the deal. The deal is to date her for six months.
Kitten knows about that, and agrees with the timeline.
She wouldn’t have agreed to save me from the hungry debs if her psycho stalker hadn’t shot me, so I guess that’s a good thing. ”
“This stalker, do you have a weekend set aside to take him out yet? What are you going to do with her while you’re having your fun?”
I almost smiled at her, an almost real smile. Sometimes talking to Jezebel was like talking to myself. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got Tom looking after her.”
She tsked and shook her head. “You’re worried that we’re going to corrupt her? Think of the fun we could have. Pinkie could teach her how to stab people, Trix could teach her to drive over people, and I could teach her how to persuade a man with my feminine wiles.”
I snorted because that was funny. “I did think about teaching her to shoot. That’s Minx’s specialty, isn’t it? She’s like Minx with a skateboard. She has an excellent sense of balance.”
“Now I’m worried.”
I waved her concern away. “Just try to act normal around her when you eventually run into her. Accidentally. Forget about the whole thing. It’ll be over in six months.”
“Sure, honey. I’ll act completely sane and boring. I won’t even shoot anyone.”
“I appreciate it, sweetheart.”
“You’ll probably have to stop sweet talking me, or she might get hurt feelings. Like Minx?” She sighed heavily. “She’ll have all the feelings.”
“There’s nothing wrong with feelings.”
“There’s nothing wrong with snails either, until you try to eat them. Just watch yourself, Nix, or that six months’ll end up a death sentence.”
“Life sentence?”
She shrugged and then hit the gas, squeezing her boat between two hybrids that gave her room because they didn’t want to be swallowed whole.
No, it was only a temporary marriage, like my wedding band, made out of something you could burn, or would eventually just crack and fall into pieces. And that’s how it was supposed to be. So why was it so hard to breathe around the thought of ever letting her go?