Page 48 of The Worst Pucking Deal

It strikes me that marrying Lucia might be the very thing I need to do. It’ll prove to both myself and the world that I’m not that fucking bad. I’m not my mom; unreliable and uncaring. And since it isn’t love, but purely convenience, it seems like a brilliant idea to my alcohol fueled brain. It would also give me some serious brownie points when this charade is over.

Overcome by the sudden impulse, I don’t pause to consider the implications before turning to Lucia. The words tumble from my lips in a rush of reckless abandon. “Let’s do it” I say, low enough that only she can hear me. “Get married and to hell with the rest.”

She pulls back, shock written all over her features. “What?”

Smirking, I move a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. “Don’t pretend this isn’t what you want, bunny. You wore the ring on purpose. Besides, when you break my heart in a year’s time, it’ll look even better for me.”

Her eyes widen like saucers. “I-I…” Shaking her head, she clears her throat and gives me a defiant look. “Sure. Why the hell not.” Despite her attempt at sounding nonchalant, she seems eager.

“Tonight?” I ask, mostly to test her.

Shrugging, she replies, “Sure. I know someone that can do it.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Soren shouts, pointing between me and Lucia.

Ignoring him, I watch as Lucia pulls her phone out of her purse and frantically taps away on it. When a triumphant smile spreads across her face, I take a second to think it through. But no, I’m not fucking backing out. This is perfect.

“One hour,” Lucia says, giving me a pointed look.

“Fine by me,” I reply.

I spend the next hour with a bottle of bourbon practically glued to my mouth, and when it’s time to leave, everything is spinning. I’m in the perfect state to enter a sham marriage; drunk off my ass, and horny from having Lucia in my lap.

Just as I’m about to ask if she’s noticed it’s been an hour, a well-dressed bodyguard kinda looking guy comes into the VIP section. “Who the hell is that?” I ask Lucia.

“One of my cousin’s, umm… guards,” she replies, getting out of my lap.

“Your cousin?”

“My cousin Remus is the one who can marry us.”

My brows shoot up high on my forehead, but I quickly school my features and turn to Soren and Mickey. “I need your help,” I say, pitching my voice low enough that the rest can’t hear what I’m saying. “I’m going to do it, and I need you to be my witnesses.”

“You’re going to do what?” Soren asks, frowning.

“Well shit,” Mickey breathes, looking between me and Lucia with a grim expression. “You know we were just joking around, right? You don’t have to marry anyone—”

I cut him off. “I know I don’t have to. But this… this works out in my favor.”

They shrug, not objecting further as we follow Lucia and the bodyguard into a quiet room. The guard or whatever closes the door behind us, leaving us alone with a dark-haired guy who looks nothing like my soon-to-be wife.

Walking over to him, Lucia bows and does something weird with her hand. “Remus,” she says. “Thank you for doing this. It’s… umm, Sawyer wanted it over with quickly.”

“Sawyer,” Remus says, holding his hand out. “Lucia’s told me this is urgent.”

I look between the two of them, then, finally, I take Remus’ hand. “It is,” I confirm.

Just as I’m about to introduce my friends, Remus looks at them. “Soren, Mickey, it’s good to meet you. I watched the game tonight and I have to say I’m impressed.”

“Yeah, thanks man,” Mickey says, looking straight at me.

Turning to me and Lucia, Remus asks, “Those are your witnesses?”

“Yep,” I confirm sharply.

“Umm not to be a dick or anything,” Soren says, “But don’t we need a prenup or something?”

Well, that’s definitely something I should have thought about. It’s not that I think Lucia’s a golddigger, and the contract with Tom already makes sure I’m going to be the one to profit once we end our bullshit relationship. That’s in terms of reputation, not goods. And I won’t risk Lucia getting her hands on anything I’ve worked hard for. I’m not all that materialistic, but this is a matter of principle.

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