8. Scarlett
Chapter 8
Scarlett
G et married.
Of all the things I expected Cian to say, I can admit that those two words were not even in the top hundred.
I blink at him. “Your family wants you to get married ?”
He nods. “Yes. My grandfather has it all arranged. We were just recently informed of it. Neither of us is into it. But my reason is you. If you’re not actually who I think you are, then I don’t actually have a great reason for not marrying her.”
I am appalled by the stab of jealousy I feel in my gut.
I have no right to feel jealous. But I’m not entirely surprised either.
In another world, if I was another person, I would absolutely want Cian O’Grady for my own. And I would be jealous of any woman who got to have him.
Actually, even in this world, being who I am, I want him and am jealous of anyone who gets to have him.
It’s just that I realize I can’t.
“Do you love her?”
He scowls at me. “I’ve told you I don’t fall in love. Except with you.”
I’m also appalled at how my heart flips when he says that. It’s ridiculous. He can’t actually love me. But his continued insistence that I am somehow extraordinary and that he actually is in love with me never fails to cause a reaction.
“Do you like her?”
“I do. Very much. We’re good friends. She’s fantastic. I am certain we could actually be happily married.”
“So why don’t you want to marry her?”
He sighs heavily. “Because I think I’m in love with you,” he says as if speaking to a young child who refuses to understand a basic concept.
“And you need me to help you get over that so you can go home and marry her,” I summarize.
His eyes narrow. “Well, that’s preferable to going home and marrying her and thinking about, and wanting, you every single day—and night—for the rest of my life.”
Geez. How am I supposed to form good arguments when he says stuff like that? When I can barely remember how to breathe when he says stuff like that?
I swallow. “So what do you want? Exactly ? How does this work in your mind?”
He stands from the chair and steps closer. That is bad. Because whenever Cian gets close to me, my heart rate kicks up and my body gets warmer.
“Nineteen days,” he tells me.
“Nineteen days?”
“I’ve spent nineteen months thinking about you. Waiting for you. I’ve put my life on hold because of you. I haven’t moved on. I haven’t even considered another woman. Maybe if I had, I’d be involved with someone and this marriage thing wouldn’t be an issue. But I haven’t. I guess I can’t ask you for nineteen months, but nineteen days seems fair.”
“Nineteen days for what?” I ask, my heart pounding so hard I press my hand to my chest.
“Just let me get to know you. Be yourself and spend time with me. I figure nineteen days should be enough time for me to realize that you are not what I want. If you are all of these things you claim to be, then that should be enough time for me to get over you.”
I guess that makes sense. “So we date with the purpose of convincing you we’re not compatible?”
His expression is difficult to read. “Yes.”
My stomach dips. I get to spend nineteen days with this man, but I have to try to help him get over me? I kind of hate this plan already. But I suppose I owe him?
He didn’t seem to appreciate the idea that I seduced him back in New Orleans. Maybe that pricked his male ego. Whatever. The fact remains that he had essentially taken me out on a date. A nice, friendly, not-naked-all-weekend date .
I had been up on that stage standing by a stripper pole, scared, completely out of my depth, and he’d somehow seen that. He’d rescued me by asking for a private dance, which had gotten me off stage and away from all the other men. Then he’d paid enough money to the club to cover the rest of the night of private dances with me. Since I was spoken for, he convinced the club manager to let me leave early. And he’d taken me out for burgers and shakes.
Yes, there had been chemistry. Yes, he’d flirted. But I honestly believe, even now, that if I had not mentioned going back to his hotel, he would’ve just asked for my number.
I was playing a part that night and he fell hook, line, and sinker. That’s on me. I was spontaneous and let my gut guide me instead of my head.
I know better than to do that, and this is one more instance where it’s proven that my gut gets me into trouble.
So I owe him. We’re in this…predicament…because I wasn’t my usual careful, rational self that night.
There’s only one problem.
“I still can’t date you even for nineteen days,” I tell him. “You’re a hot, young, wealthy prince . That goes against everything I’m trying to prove here in town.”
“No one needs to know any of that. I’ve been hiding out in the US for over a decade.”
“But there are people here who could recognize you. They’ve looked you up because of things that Mariah and Greta have said.”
He frowns. I have a point whether he likes it or not.
“That’s the only problem?” he finally asks.
No. There’s also the problem of me wanting him, wishing everything could be different, the temptation just to say fuck it and let this happen, the urge to be the woman I was with him nineteen months ago, but for good.
Instead of saying any of that, I nod. “Yes.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“You’ll figure what out?”
“How to have you for the next nineteen days. “
My breath catches in my lungs. I cannot keep reacting this way. “The idea is to start not wanting me,” I remind him.
“The idea is to spend time with you. The not wanting you is yet to be seen.”
I let the warm tingles trip through me for a moment. Because they’re actually quite nice.
But then I realize that yeah, hanging out in my hometown will easily convince him that I am nothing special.
But we can’t hang out here. Leah Lawton will easily figure out who he is and the news will spread like wildfire. That will do me no favors when he moves on and I’m left here with even more to live down.
“This is never going to work,” I tell him.
“There’s something you should know,” he says.
“What’s that?”
“Things always work out for me.”
I roll my eyes, but I have no trouble believing that.
I can’t keep doing this. He’s not going to give in and I can’t stand here in the kitchen, alone, remembering how it felt to have him pressing that amazing hard, hot body up between my legs again.
I shiver. “I need to get some sleep,” I tell him. “I have to be at the shop early in the morning.”
He tucks his hands in his back pockets. “Okay.”
“Where are you staying?” I ask, suddenly thinking about him turned loose on Emerald.
He lifts shoulder. “Not sure. Getting here was my only focus.”
Cue another stupid heart flip.
“Probably a hotel,” he adds.
I shake my head. “There’s only one hotel here in town and you can’t stay there. Someone might recognize you. Especially once you put your name in. You’re a stranger. Everyone here pays attention to strangers.”
“I’m open to suggestions.”
“Henry usually stays here,” I say. “And I know he and Ruby will want to be together tonight.” I sigh. “She’s missed him so much.”
“Even though I just found out about them last night, I can say he’s missed her too. He hasn’t been the same over the past month,” Cian says.
That makes me happy at least. I really need Henry to love my sister as much as she loves him.
“But I don’t know how they’re doing,” he says.
My heart drops. I’d hoped that the strange vibe between them when I’d come home had been just Ruby’s initial hurt and anger over their breakup. Surely they were going to get past that. “Really?”
“She has been pretty icy since we got here.”
“She was really hurt.”
“Yeah.”
We just stand there with unsaid words and a ton of emotions swirling around us.
“I guess you can stay on the couch,” I offer even though I know it’s a bad idea to keep him too close.
You could just put him in your bed. You shared a bed before.
But I immediately shut that voice in my head down. That is a terrible idea. The plan is to help him get over me in nineteen days. But there are absolutely no guarantees that I will be over him . I would like to mitigate the amount of heartbreak I’m in for, thank you very much.
“That will be great,” he says.
Then I sigh. “No. You can have my bed.”
His eyebrow quirks.
“I’ll share with Mariah,” I say quickly.
He smirks. “Don’t vacate on my account.”
“Oh, no,” I say moving around the kitchen counter, covering the freshly made bars with plastic wrap. “It is purely for my sake.”
“Well, you know where to find me,” he says.
Yeah. It will be very hard to forget that.
I am acutely aware of him following me up the stairs. I don’t know how I’m going to do this. How can I resist this man? Everything I’ve told him is true, of course. I can’t date him and live the life I need to live here in Emerald.
But it’s much easier to be determined about that when he's not in my personal space. Or within eyesight. Or within the same zip code.
When I get to the top of the stairs, I lead him to my bedroom. My entire body feels jumpy and overly sensitive. My shirt feels too tight, my shorts scratchy. As if my body is begging me to strip my clothes off. Cian O’Grady is standing outside of my bedroom. And I can’t even kiss him. I certainly can’t pull him through the doorway, push him down on the bed, straddle him, and…
I clear my throat. “Here's my room. I’ll get fresh sheets. Just give me a minute.”
His chuckle is low and deep. “I am looking forward to sleeping on sheets that smell like you, Scarlett. Please don’t change them.”
My cheeks get hot. I swallow hard. Fine. I don’t want to change the sheets anyway. “Okay. There are fresh towels and linens in the closet just there.” I point.
“Ruby and Henry are there.” I point to Ruby's closed bedroom door. “And that's Mariah's room. Where I’ll be. I’ll be up early for work. Help yourself to whatever in the morning. And then… I guess I’ll hear about your plans from Ruby.”
“Are you trying to say good night to me or goodbye?”
I nod. “Yes.”
He gives me a small smile. “Good night, Scarlett,” he says.
I walk quickly to Mariah's room, knock lightly, and open the door without waiting for her to answer.
“Need to?—”
Greta and Mariah are lying head to toe on Mariah's bed, both on their phones, music streaming from one of them.
They both look at me. “Hey. What’s up?” Mariah asks.
“I was going to say I need to sleep in here with you,” I say.
Greta frowns and sits up. “Oh. Sorry. We didn’t think to ask. My mom says it's fine I stay over.”
“Why aren’t you in your room?” Mariah asks.
“Cian is sleeping in there.”
Mariah tips her head. “So why aren’t you sleeping in there? You’ve slept together before.”
And I am blushing again. “Because it's not like that now. We’re not going to have sex.”
Greta is grinning at me. “I would love to know what happened between the two of you that has made him so gaga over you. I mean, he's been waiting for you for nineteen months. That is so romantic. And he's here looking for you after all this time? He wants you back.” She sighs dreamily.
Mariah grins. “I, on the other hand, do not want to know what she did to make him so gaga.”
Greta giggles and throws a pillow at Mariah. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Mariah laughs. “Yes, you did.”
I thunk my head back against the door. “Anyway,” I say, raising my voice. “I’m not going to be doing anything with him now.”
Both girls focus on me. “Why not?” Mariah asks.
“Yeah,” Greta agrees. “He's here. He's crazy about you. And he's… him.”
“Because I can’t date someone like that. Everyone knows who he is. He's rich and jets around the world, rock climbing, and scuba diving. He lives a totally different lifestyle from ours. He knows famous, rich people.” I’m working on not judging other people. But dammit. I’m here trying to prove to people that I’m happy doing a humble, basic service job and I can not date a guy who doesn’t even really have a job yet has millions of dollars at his disposal.
“You know that I believe we should all be trying to contribute in a positive way,” I tell the girls. There’s never a bad time for a learning moment, I figure. “And I just want a regular life, nothing fancy or exciting. I don’t need all of that. I don’t need private planes and exotic vacations. I just want to help keep people’s cars and trucks running so they can go to work and take their kids to school and make the most of their lives. That’s how you contribute to a community.”
And I’m hanging out with people like Amber, who does people’s hair, and her husband Tony, who works at the factory, and my sister who…okay, she strips and bartends, but only because people in this town won’t bring their kids to her for dance lessons. That’s what she’d really like to do.
Not only do I want to prove my change of heart to my hometown, but I also definitely want to prove it to my daughter and her friend. I can be a good role model here. I can teach them this lesson. A simple life, doing a job that contributes to the community and helps others, living a life that you can be proud of, not judging others, not making waves, those are all things to be happy with. You don’t need excitement or adventure. You can make up for mistakes. And you don’t need big, grand love stories.
I have shared with both Mariah and Greta what I was like when I lived here as a kid. I’ve been brutally honest. I was not a nice person. I was the girl that the girls like them didn’t like. I was a mean girl. The Leah—judgy, better than them, thought I had it all figured out.
I want my daughter and Greta, who has turned into a second daughter, to look at me now and want to be like me. Not like the girl I was then, but the woman I’ve become. Someone who can acknowledge her mistakes, can say she's sorry, and can change.
There's a knock on the door behind me and I suck in a surprised breath. I step away and open it. Cian is in the hallway.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. Just, your sister is in your bed. Didn’t really think I should sleep in there.”
I frown. “Ruby is in my bed?”
He nods. “She and Henry are not going to be sleeping together. Apparently.”
I sigh. “Great.” I glance back at the girls. “Anyway. We can talk about all this more later. You go ahead and stay,” I tell Greta. At this point, it would raise questions with her parents if I sent her home, or if I sent Mariah with her. It's better if we just all bunk here together somehow. But only for tonight.
I step out into the hallway. Cian barely backs up to give me space.
I slide past him, very careful not to brush against his body. No matter how much I want to. I go to my bedroom and open the door.
My sister is propped up against my headboard, reading. She is definitely ready for bed. “What's going on?” I ask. “I figured you and Henry would be in your room.”
She looks at me. “No way. I… can’t.” Her voice is shaky and I think she might be on the verge of tears.
Well, shit.
I turn around and look up at Cian, who is still out in the hallway. “I guess you and Henry are sharing Ruby's room.”
He lifts one big shoulder. “I’m disappointed to not be wrapped up in your sheets tonight,” he says. “But Henry and I will be fine. We’ve done this before. In worse circumstances.”
I do not want to know.
But I do kind of want to know. There is definitely a part of me that wants to hear all of his stories. No, I can’t date someone who is adventurous and exciting and who jets around the world, especially on a private plane. But hearing about it is tempting.
“Okay. Good night ,” I say.
The corner of his mouth curls and I know that he made a note that it was just a good night and not goodbye.
I step into my room and close the door between us. He can find the towels and whatever else he might need on his own. I need space.
I look at my sister. “Are you okay?”
She shakes her head no.
“I thought you’d be happy Henry’s back,” I say, crossing to the bed and climbing onto the mattress next to her.
Ruby and I have also shared a bed many times. Also, in worse circumstances.
“I mean, at first I was really happy to see him. I’m stupidly in love with him,” she says. “But he's always going to leave, Scarlett. That's just our reality. He's not going to stay in Emerald, Ohio. Cian is his job. More, Cian is his family . There's never going to be a time when he can choose me over him. And I can’t live a life where the man I’m in love with is here very part time. I don’t think I should have to be second choice even if I understand why his first choice comes first.”
This is something my sister and Henry actually have in common. Ruby has always been there for me. She has uprooted her life to go with me and Mariah more than once. She is amazingly loyal, and she would put me and my daughter ahead of anyone. Even herself.
“You know exactly where he’s coming from,” I say. “You’re a lot alike.”
She nods. “We are. Which is why he and I are not going to work out. I can’t see him just here and there. I really don’t think that I’m cut out for a long-distance relationship.”
I would agree with that. Ruby is a very loving person. And while our inner circle is small, it's tight. She likes to be with the people she loves. She needs quality time. She loves cuddling, sharing meals, face-to-face conversations and laughter, making memories together. She can’t go even two days without talking to our mother. And she can’t be away from home for more than a week, even on a fabulous vacation.
“I’m really sorry.” I reach out and squeeze her hand. “Why did we have to fall for those guys? Out of all the guys on the planet? Why the two that it will absolutely not work out with?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. But—” she says pointing at my nose, “I don’t want to hear about how it’s probably some punishment. This is not the universe or God or karma or Dad somehow magically punishing you for past decisions or mistakes.”
I don’t say anything to that. That is exactly what I usually do. I assume that I deserve bad things to happen to me. I’ve been that way since I was about twelve. When our father started telling me that.
“Fine. You’re right. It's just bad timing. Or bad luck. Or whatever.”
Ruby nods her agreement. “It just sucks. Sometimes things just suck. But it's not because we deserve them to suck.”
I turn and lie back on the pillow next to hers. I think about that.
Sometimes things just suck. But that doesn’t mean we deserve them to suck.
That is actually a little comforting.
But it also seems really fucking unfair.