Page 41 of Accidentally Marrying the Prisoner
“Why didn’t you tell me you’ve met?” I ask Conrad with an accusatory tone.
He shrugs. “I figured you knew.”
Dangit. I should have.
“See? I knew it,” Tripp says from the head of the table, having remained seated. “No parent in their right mind would allow their kid to marry some random criminal.”
Bridget bursts out laughing, crossing the dining room in her sleek, wide-legged slacks and pointy red heels that match her shiny lipstick. “Try and stop me. Hi, Daddy,” she says, bending and giving Tripp a kiss on his cheek.
“I will. No child—uh, second child—of mine is signing up for this hairbrained, jailhouse marriage idea. I will not allow it,” Tripp says, his face turning red as his speech grows louder.
“I guess this is a bad time to tell you I was arrested last week for punching a guy who pinched my friend’s butt.” Bridgetcocks a hip and sets her hand on it while Tripp sputters at her confession. “And that hairbrained idea was mine.”
“And mine!” Mom adds.
“How the fudge do y’all know each other?” I ask, looking back and forth.
“Mom introduced us during my first visit with Conrad,” Bridget says. “Now, we’re besties.” She slides a chair out to position it beside her father’s, sitting down and slinging an arm over Tripp’s shoulders that instantly makes him melt. “And I’m the one who pushed the program through legislation. It’s still too early to determine if it’s as successful as we projected, but so far it’s worked out so well that other wardens in the state have written to ask when they can implement the program in their prisons. A few from out of state too. We might even go national if the recidivism rate declines and the greedy assholes at the for-profit prisons don’t get in our way. So, I figure I might as well give it a shot. See if the reason I haven’t met my soulmate is because he’s behind bars.” Tripp grumbles at that, and Bridget laughs. “And if Mirabeth can end up with someone so selfless that he’d go to prison for his dying brother, then why not me?” This she says while looking directly at her father, challenging him to argue or dismiss her.
At a loss for words, Tripp’s face goes white when he looks at my husband with shame-filled eyes, perhaps finally accepting the truth about Conrad’s arrest. Conrad inhales sharply and holds it, never breaking eye contact, his body rigid beside mine until Tripp gives him a little nod—one that will change the course of their relationship for the better. It’s my hope that Tripp’s turd-muffin days are over for good.
Bridget tells Conrad, “So you can thank me too.” Palm up, she gestures for Conrad to hurry, then cups her hand at her ear. “Come on, I want to hear you say it.”
I do so before Conrad can when I jog around the table and give the sister-in-law I only met five minutes ago a hug around her slim shoulders. “Thank you so much. You’re my favorite in-law.”
While Sondra and Mom have a laugh, Brad huffs from the side, crossing his muscular arms when he leans back in his chair so it’s propped on its two back legs. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” he tells me. With his face going as red as his father’s had been, he asks Bridget, “Any plans to try it out at the women’s prisons? Let me know if they do.”
“Why?” Alisa asks with a pinch of her brows.
“I might as well try it, too, seeing as you and Conrad are planning to waltz off together when his three years are up. Hopefully, I’ll find a wife who isn’t still in love with her ex,” Brad says, barely glancing at his current wife, who gasps and clings to his arm. He shakes her off. “I really thought you were my soulmate, yet here we are.” He cuts his watery eyes to Drew. “But don’t think for a second that I’m going to let you take my son and let this cheating bastard”—he motions to my husband—“raise my son as his own.”
Oh.
Shit.
Looks like I’m not the only one who jumped to the same—fortunately wrong—conclusion. It makes me feel somewhat better, and I give Conrad a pointed look.
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
CONRAD
My stomach sinks while I drop onto a chair with my wife beside me. Mirabeth grabs my hand and squeezes it under the table, even as she gives me haughty eyes.
“Brad—” I start.
“Save it!” Brad roars, interrupting me, slashing his hand in the air. “I don’t want to hear how this is payback for me marrying your ex when you decided to take the fall for Andrew. And you!” Brad yells at Alisa, his voice breaking and his strong chin beginning to wobble. “Did you pretend to fall in love with me so I would take care of you while he was in prison? Were you counting down the days until he was released so you could ride off into the sunset together?”
“No, Brad, never! I love you with my whole heart. Only you,” Alisa says with heartbreak in her voice, turning in her chair to hold Brad’s face, leaning closer. “How could you think I’d ever want to be with anyone else?”
He sniffs as he shakes his head. “I’ve seen your private calendar. July thirtieth, four-thirty at the same hotel where we got married. The hunting trip you planned for my birthday withmy friends—that was just your excuse to get me out of town so you can sneak around all you want without getting caught.”
“No, baby, you’ve got it all wrong,” Alisa says sadly, stroking his face. “I can barely look at Conrad now without being disgusted that we used to be together. I want to throw up just thinking about it.”
I smother a laugh with my free hand. This is great news, and it seems Mirabeth thinks so, too, since she drops her head on my shoulder with a relieved sigh.
“Then why did you go to his apartment in the middle of the night? I saw your location after I woke up in bed alone,” Brad says, ducking his head to hide the tears in his eyes.
