Page 36 of Six Month Wife
His voice lowers, but the edge doesn’t soften.
“He needs to be the smartest guy in the room. The one calling the shots. And if he can’t control the outcome, he’ll sabotage it to prove he still can.”
I blink. The way he says it—it’s not dramatic. It’s scary. His father sounds like a monster.
“If he catches wind that this marriage isn’t real,” Parker continues, “he’ll dig. Push. Make the attorney nervous. Make us nervous. He doesn’t need proof, a scintilla of doubt. That’s all it would take to slow things down and maybe derail it completely.”
I don’t say anything. Because suddenly, this isn’t a game we’re playing. It’s a minefield.
"Geez, Parker. I'm sorry."
“He’s done it before,” Parker adds quietly. “Calls it ‘keeping people honest.’”
“So what do we do?” I finally manage.
He steps a little closer.
“We make it perfect,” he says. “That’s the only way we keep him out.”
He pauses, then pulls me into a hug. I get the sense he needs this more than I do. So I let myself lean in.
And for one second, it doesn’t feel like acting.
Because that’s the problem. We’re not performing for anyone right now.
I reach up—automatic, ridiculous—and brush an imaginary speck off his shoulder.
“I think we can do perfect,” I say.
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear like it’s nothing, and we both crack up.
“Look at us. Rehearsing the roles even when no one’s watching. We’re going to slay when your father shows up.”
He tightens his arm around me and gives me a playful nudge, his grin crooked and too charming for my well-being.
We pull apart, a little breathless. I try not to overthink it.
“Definitely convincing,” I say, hoping he can’t hear my pulse hammering in my chest.
“Good,” he says, letting his gaze linger for a beat too long. “The more real this looks, the better.”
Before I can respond, the door swings open, and Bets and Jackie Percell stroll in. The two of them take one look at Parker and break into wide grins.
“Well, isn’t this a sweet surprise?” Bets teases, eyeing us both. “You're the catch around town, Parker, I’ve been hearing. Everyone wants to know how Adair snagged you.”
“Oh, that’s silly,” Parker says without missing a beat. He turns to face them, keeping his arm firmly around me, and plants a quick, playful kiss on the top of my head.
“I’d say she’s the one who’s the catch. I’m lucky she agreed to this craziness.”
My heart flips, even though I know he’s playing his part. I laugh, brushing it off like it’s nothing, but there’s a weird little pang in my chest as I catch Bets and Jackie trading amused looks.
I’m usually the one making the calls, the one who wears “entrepreneur” like a badge. And I typically get bored with men who act all lovey-dovey.
But standing next to Parker, I sense a shift inside of me. He’s a catch. Bets isn't wrong.
And the fawning is fun, which is what gets me.
It’s not the kiss or the charm.
