Page 6 of The Reason I Married Him
I feel my entire body go cold.
Not fucking Wallace.
Wallace is my cousin. He’s the bane of my existence. A fucking asshole who doesn’t know anything about loyalty and family. Then again, do I? My brother died, and I didn’t do much to help Cassidy, but we’re not going to get into that right now.
This is about Wallace. And Wallace is the type of guy that when you look him in the eyes, you wonder if his irises are actually yellow or if they’re playing a trick on you.
He’s vile.
He’s calculated.
He’s a non-fiction descendant of Scott Farkus fromThe Christmas Story.
He has hated me ever since we were teenagers when I grew a foot in middle school, and he didn’t.
“What the fuck did he want?” I ask.
“Nothing, but he did make a comment that made my skin crawl.”
“What was it?” I ask. “Did he say something gross about girl-on-girl action? I have no problem throwing a log at him next time I see him. Lord knows he wouldn’t be able to lift it off himself.”
She sets her hand on the table and carefully looks me in the eyes. “He mentioned how he’s closer than you at claiming the cabin now.”
Fuck.
Not . . . not the cabin.
I sit taller in my seat as anger races through my body. “He fucking said that to you?”
“He did.”
And Farkus . . . I mean Wallace just crossed a line.
“That’s fucking poor taste, not to mention no one’s business outside of the family. And sure, I know I’ve told you everything because I wanted you to look at Grandfather’s will, but Jesus fuck, why would he say that to you?”
“Probably because he knew I would tell you.”
I squeeze my lips together, anger bristling inside me as I consider the idea of Wallace taking possession of the family cabin.
The sacred, beautiful A-frame cabin that was the sole basis of happiness during my childhood. He’d renovate it until it resembled nothing of what it’s like now. He’d erase all of the memories we created there. I know this because he’s said it. He never got along with Grandfather, nor did Wallace appreciatethe outdoors or the community where the cabin is located. His parents rarely took him up there, and when they did, Wallace would complain the entire time about the ponderosa pines blocking the sun and the weird, kitschy town not having good food.
Unfortunately, when Grandfather passed last year, he stated in his will that the first to get married among the grandkids would take possession. Since I was engaged, I knew that would be me. And now with Cadance gone, Wallace is the only other grandchild in a relationship . . . meaning, if he’s already thinking about the cabin, there’s no doubt in my mind he’ll propose out of spite.
“Fuck,” I say while pulling on the back of my neck. “He’s going to take it, isn’t he?”
“Seems like it,” Laurel says. “Unless . . .”
“Unless what?” I ask.
“You get married.”
I sardonically chuckle. “Think we missed the boat on that one.”
“I was thinking more like a business transaction.”
I raise one brow as I glance in her direction. “Are you saying I marry you? Because you know I would in a heartbeat. The only problem is you don’t like the penis, and everyone knows that. Pretty sure Wallace would call fraud on us and claim the cabin.”
“Not talking about me. I was thinking maybe . . . maybe one of Cassidy’s sisters.”
