Page 18 of Axe-identally Married
I felt for him. As much as I worried about letting my parents down, they would never turn their backs on me. I couldn’t imagine a world where I didn’t wake up every single day certain of their love.
Cole didn’t have that. Not with his parents. And he was so desperate for his brothers’ approval. So desperate to connect with them.
“How would it work?” It was silly, really, piling another irresponsible decision onto the mountain we’d already made. Surely it would be better to face the consequences now, then deal with the fallout and move on.
“We handle it the way you did with Owen and Lila. Tell people that we’ve been secretly dating for a couple of months and got swept up in the moment in Vegas. Go home and stay married for a bit. That way you don’t risk your career or your dad’s health.”
“And what do you get out of this?”
“With any luck, it’ll keep my brothers from hating me for fucking things up again. Or at least hate me less. Also,” he trailed off, “I’d really love to move out of Debbie’s house. Get some space. Figure out my plans for the future.”
Yesterday, between drunken dares and helicopter rides, we’d talked a lot about his future. His voice had been filled with pride when he talked about the work he’d done on RiverFest and how he was thinking about going back to school to complete his bachelor’s degree.
My cottage did have a spare bedroom, and I was barely home anyway.
But…
“I’m not sure.” My stomach twisted. A fake marriage? That was a bridge too far. I needed to stay focused on my patients andthe practice. Learn and train and become the kind of doctor my dad and grandfather had been before me.
I didn’t even have the time or energy to date, never mind fake a whole-ass marriage.
“I’m a great roommate,” he added, his brows lifted hopefully. “Debbie trained me well. I do laundry and cook, and I’ll stay out of your way.” Shifting my way, he ducked his head and held eye contact. “I owe you after what you said to Owen, and I wanna help. I’m living in limbo right now. I’ve got nothing and no one. So if you want me to be your husband for a few months while we figure out this annulment process, then I’m game.”
For a moment, all I could do was stare at him and consider his words. Over the last thirty-six hours, Cole and I had become friends. We’d come together and connected. Not in a romantic way—granted, things had been very flirty when we were drunk—but maybe we could be platonic roommates? We were both lonely and got along surprisingly well for a jock and a nerd.
“It could work,” I said slowly. “If we have ground rules and a plan and maybe a contract.”
“How about…” He stuffed his hand into the pocket of his University of Maine sweats, and when he pulled it out, he held it out, palm up. “We roll for it?”
I blinked down at the item. “You didn’t.”
His grin was positively devilish, the sight bringing with it a flash of our night together. It was no wonder I married this guy. That grin was dangerous.
In his hand between us sat a bright red die. On the side with two markings was aB, for the Bellagio, etched in elegant script.
“I swiped it. Couldn’t get the other one. But I knew I had to hold on to the lucky charm that had gotten me a wife.”
My heart stumbled, even as I let out a laugh. This was beyond ridiculous. How the hell was this my life?
“What do you say? Odd, we fess up. Even, we stay married?”
I could not make a major life decision on the roll of a die. Nope, that was insane. Look what a mess damn dice had gotten me into last night.
No. It was a terrible idea. But the brick of anxiety resting on my chest had me wondering whether this was actually a workable solution.
My life was hectic, so I probably wouldn’t even notice being married to the guy, and if it would save my parents embarrassment and stress, that alone would be worth it.
I took in his hopeful face and the shaggy hair falling over his forehead. Dammit. All my caregiver instincts were screaming at me to help this man.
“Okay,” I said softly, though my stomach rolled with anxiety. “Even, we do it.”
He held out his hand and grinned. After last night, he didn’t have to tell me what he wanted. I leaned in, closing my eyes and praying that I wasn’t messing things up even worse, and blew on the die.
When I straightened again, he shook it and dropped it onto the comforter. On the soft surface, it didn’t roll much, but when it stopped, it landed on four.
“Even.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Okay, wifey. I guess we’re calling your parents.”
