Page 11 of Unwilling Bride
He raises one eyebrow. “Then I’ll entertain your stipulations.”
I nod. “First of all, my sisters will need to be looked after and provided for for the duration of our marriage or until they reach adulthood, whichever comes first.”
The slightly rough edge of Clayton’s expression softens, and I catch his mouth twitching as he suppresses a grin. This man confounds me. On the outside, he looks like the kind of person who could snap your neck with one hand. And yet he keeps letting his softer side, his sense of humor, shine through.
“I agree to work something out to the full benefit of your sisters,” he says.
His voice is so sincere that tears prickle my eyes. I blink hard and force myself to move on to the next part, before I lose my nerve.
“Good. Stipulation number two is…is that you need to date me.”
He cocks his head. “Dateyou?”
“Yes.” I can feel my cheeks burning. “I want you to act the way you would if you actually loved me.”
5
CHARLIE
I asked to bewooed.Not woken up by Clayton at the crack of dawn with a text message telling me to be ready in an hour. The nerve of this man.
Untangling myself from Livvie’s sleeping form, I sit on the side of the bed and rub my eyes. I promised my sisters we’d have a movie night, and we ended up falling asleep halfway through it. Me and Livvie in the bed, Frankie on the floor in a nest of blankets and quilts.
I step over her carefully, then hold my breath as I tiptoe to the door. Frankie is normally an early riser, so I’m sure she’ll be up soon. I don’t want her to see me getting ready to leave. She’ll have a million questions that I’m not ready to answer just yet. I don’t know how soon this fake wedding is, or what’s going to happen between now and then, but I’d like to keep her out of the loop for as long as possible. She’ll be frantic with worry if she knows the truth. Frankie’s future is bright, and I don’t want to be responsible for interfering with it.
The mornings have been cooler now that autumn is here. I dress in layers because I have no idea what Clayton has planned for us. A T-shirt followed by a light sweater followed by my leather jacket. While brushing my teeth, I realize how fast my heart is beating. My stomach is doing little flips and I feel jittery.
I don’t know why I’m so nervous. We had sex one time. I shouldn’t feel like this just because I’m seeing him again. Yet with each passing moment, the anxiety increases. Maybe I don’t want to be wooed after all. What if I can’t keep it together around him? And why did it take a minor wave of panic to realize that I’m a little excited about him taking me out?
I’m a hot mess.
Normally, I would take more time with my appearance, but I can’t stand here playing with my hair or trying to decide what kind of eyeshadow or lip gloss to put on. The more time that passes, the more anxious I become, so in the end I just pull my hair into a sleek ponytail and keep my makeup basic. My stomach is too twisted up for me to eat, but I force down some dry toast just so I’m not running on empty. What if he’s taking me on a hike or something?
Outside, it’s still dark. A flash of headlights shines as a car turns down our long driveway. I take a deep breath and run my palms down the front of my jeans before heading toward the car. Clayton pulls to a stop when he sees me and gets out, going around to the passenger door to open it for me.
When I duck into the warm car, I get a whiff of his spicy cologne and my knees go a little weak. There goes my pulse again. God, this is dumb. I have barn chores to do this morning. Horses to feed, stalls to clean. There is a lot on my list and none of it includes Clayton.
“What could we possibly be doing this early in the morning?” I ask.
He smiles as he slides back into the driver’s seat. “You’ll find out soon enough. Do you want me to stop someplace and grab you some breakfast?”
I’m still too jittery to even think about real food, but all I say is, “No thanks. I’m good. This early, coffee’s all I need.”
“Fair enough,” he says, and passes me a warm thermos.
Yawning, I snuggle down into the leather seat. It has a heater in it, and it’s divine. I spy a few blankets folded in the back, and something big and square that looks suspiciously like a picnic basket. Clayton catches me looking and shakes his head.
“No peeking, now. It’s a surprise. No questions, either.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll probably fall asleep in this seat first.”
He grins. “And here I pegged you for an early riser.”
“Normally I am, honestly. But I stayed up too late with my sisters,” I tell him. “Besides, when I get up in the morning, it’s to go out to the barn, not into a moving vehicle with heated seats. It’s the perfect sleep trap.”
He laughs. “Why do you think I didn’t turn mine on?”
That makes me laugh, too.
