Page 79 of Wild Then Wed
She hands the phone back and crosses her arms. “How much do I owe you?”
I arch a brow. “Owe me?”
“For the venue,” she says, gesturing toward the screen. “How much was it?”
I shake my head. “You’re not paying for it.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes.I am.”
I laugh. “Is this gonna be the rest of our fake marriage? Because I have to admit, it’s going to be very entertaining.”
“Sawyer, I’m not letting you pay for that. It probably costs a shit ton.”
“Yeah, well,” I say, shrugging, “consider it an early wedding gift. From me to the both us. For making it through this whole thing without losing our damn minds.”
She opens her mouth, then shuts it, then opens it again—her expression somewhere between exasperated and panicked. “Oh my God.”
“What?”
She points at me. “Did you have to sleep with someone to secure this venue?”
I bark out a laugh. “What the hell? No!”
“Well, you’re being all vague about it! And people don’t justgetthis kind of place on a last minute’s notice. There’s always some shady backroom favor involved.”
“Okay, first of all, no one performed a shady backroom favor.”
“That’s exactly what someone who performed a shady backroom favor would say.”
I tilt my head. “Would it make you feel better or worse if I told you it was an old client who owed me a favor because Itreated his daughter’s mini horse for a uterine infection at two in the morning when I was off the clock a few months ago?”
She stares at me for a long second. “Weirdly? Better.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“I’m still paying for it,” she says, her chin tilting up a notch like she’s about to wrestle my wallet out of my pocket in the middle of the barn.
I let out a slow breath. “Wren…”
She crosses her arms. Stares me down.
I know that look. I’ve seen it in the round pen. It says:I am not letting this go, so save your energy.
“I don’t mind,” I tell her, quieter this time. “Really. It’s not a big deal for me.”
And it’s not. I make good money at the clinic—better than good, really—and I’ve made smart decisions with it. My retirement’s in solid shape, I’ve got investments that have done well over the years, and I live pretty simply. Plus, I still earn a decent side income helping out on the ranch when I can.
“That’s great,” she says, folding her arms tighter. “But I need to feel like I’m contributing. Otherwise, it just feels like I’m showing up empty-handed to my own wedding.”
I run a hand through my hair. “Fair enough,” I say finally. “What if I pay for half?”
She opens her mouth like she’s about to argue that too, and I cut her off before she gets a syllable out.
“I’m already being generous by letting you pay that much,” I say, deadpan. “There’s no way in hell you’re footing the whole thing, so take the win, Wilding.”
