Page 32 of Walkoff Wedding

“And what do you mean by false claims?” Mr. Morrison asks as he leans forward in his chair, resting his forearms on the desk in front of him.

“My stepdad is probably not going to be entirely… happy about my marriage. And I wonder if he were to cause any issues to try to prevent it, maybe say that my marriage isn’t valid, what would happen?

Mr. Morrison leans back, a serious expression on his face. “Ah. Well, just speaking hypothetically, your marriage would have to be legitimate and valid to satisfy the inheritance clause stated in the will. If it were proven to be… duplicitous, then he would have grounds to contest the will on the basis of fraud… but as long as the marriage is real, there shouldn’t be an issue.”

Turning, I drag my attention to Grant, who’s nodding, before shifting it back to Mr. Morrison.

“Okay, I understand. All of this has been very helpful. Especially confirming what the will actually says. Once we’re married, I just need to provide you with… what?”

“Your marriage license,” he begins, pausing to scan the document once more, then looking over at us. “After your license is obtained and signed, we can begin filing a probate and moving the property over to you. I’ll try and make that process as easy as I can.”

My head is spinning, and my heart is thrashing in my chest as all of this truly begins to sink in.

Ever After will be mine if I marry Grant. Brent will no longer be able to manipulate and control me. All we have to do is believably get married, and he can’t sell it because it’ll be mine. Well… if the bank doesn’t take it first.

That’s an entirely different problem to tackle.

“Uh, Mr. Morrison, one more question.” I pause as he nods. “Do you have access to any of the financials? Do you know how far behind the mortgage is? I just want to figure out a plan of action for when it does transfer to me, given all the monetary challenges facing the bakery.”

Reaching back into the file, he begins searching through the documents inside and finally stops, then picks a paper up and scans it.

“I requested the most up-to-date bank records in preparation for a potential probate process. It appears that Ever After is in good financial standing. There’s nothing showing that the mortgage payments are behind or in the red. During probate, the business will go through a more thorough investigation period, but generally, there is nothing to indicate any financial distress.”

What?

My jaw falls open in shock. Grant’s hand tightens, and when I glance over at him, I can see the fury written on every inch of his expression. His jaw works as he shakes his head.

He’s angry for me. Brent hasn’t just lied about the will; he’s lied about everything. How could I have not seen this coming?

The minute I learned I’d been misled about the will, I should have questioned everything. Of course, the financials were what was forcing my hand into his marriage scheme.

Somehow, I find the words even as emotion tightens in my throat, making it hard to talk. “Thank you, Mr. Morrison. I th-think… that’s all I have for now.”

My voice cracks when I speak, but even as angry as I am at being lied to for so long, an even bigger part of me feels nothing but relief flooding my chest. This eliminates one huge barrier… once I get the bakery, I’m in the clear.

We say goodbye, and Grant leads me out to his vehicle, my hand still clasped tightly in his until he opens the passenger door and helps me inside.

I have so many things I want to say as he slides into the driver’s seat, then pulls out onto the highway in the direction of his apartment. But… I’m still trying to process everything, to wrap my head fully around what I’ve learned, so instead, I gaze out the window at the vibrant city, sitting in silence with my thoughts.

Attempting to untangle the web of deceit that Brent has woven.

The ride is short and silent as Grant seems to perceive my need for quiet. By the time we get to his apartment and walk through the front door, I’m oddly… calm.

I walk over to the couch and sink down onto the cushions, thankful for the space he gave me to deal with everything in my head.

“Are you okay, Addie?” Grant asks as he sits on the coffee table in front of me, his eyes shining with concern.

“Surprisingly?” I start. “Yes.” A laugh tumbles past my lips, and I realize it probably sounds a tad wild, but… I’m so relieved. “I expected to hear the worst. That… Ever After belongs to Brent, and there was no way it would ever be mine. Am I really angry that he’s manipulated me for so long? Of course… but I honestly kind of feel relieved? The truth is even better than I expected. I don’t have to consider marrying Dixon for money to save the bakery ’cause the money isn’t actually a problem.”

Grant nods. “You don’t.” He tugs at the collar of his button-up and begins to undo the buttons one by one until the taut, contoured muscles of his chest are on display. “Sorry, this shirt feels like it’s fucking choking me.”

“No, it’s o-okay,” I stutter nervously.

God, I have to get it together. It’s just a chest.

And he’s… just Grant.

“So, what do we do from here?” he asks as he flicks open the last button of his shirt. I purposefully avoid glancing down at his abs because I need my brain to work right now, and it absolutely misfires when he’s involved.

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