Page 15 of Sweet Obsession
Blake watched the exchange with a smile tugging at his lips. He missed the good-natured ribbing of a loving family.
With Alice out the door, as soon as the sound of her horse’s hooves faded into the distance, Preston set down the dish towel he’d been using. “Dad’s office. Now.”
A collective sigh seemed to ripple through the room. The transition from family dinner to family pow-wow was seamless. Blake hung back, picking up a dish towel to finish where Preston left off.
“You might as well join us.” Preston tipped his head in the direction of their dad’s office. “You know as much as I do at the moment.”
Feeling a bit like a fifth wheel, Blake hesitated. As much as he felt a part of this family all those years ago, for something of this magnitude, he felt like an interloper.
“We promise not to bite.” Jillian smiled at him and nudged him forward. Had she said anything else, he wouldn’t have guessed she recognized his discomfort. Had the kid always been that intuitive?
Blake followed the siblings down the hall, Brady padding along behind them.
Preston settled behind the desk, papers already spread out in front of him. The rest of them found seats, a few sank onto throw pillows on the floor—a full house. Blake leaned against the doorframe.
“I’ve been running the numbers most of the night,” Preston began without preamble. “We’ve got funds for the next thirty days, maybe a week more if the ranch keeps producing profits. But then we’re going to be scrambling again.”
Jim leaned forward in his chair. “If we can hang on a few more weeks, bonuses will be distributed and I can—”
“If you two are going to build on Sweet land, you need to keep those bonuses,” Preston interrupted. “What we need is more marriage money.”
Blake felt his jaw tighten. These people—his second family—were talking about marriage like a business transaction. Again.
“Actually,” Jillian said quietly, “I may have some news on that front. One of the guys I’ve been corresponding with online has agreed to the arrangement.”
“Online?” Blake’s voice came out sharper than he intended.
Jillian’s cheeks flushed slightly. “It’s not like there’s a long line of eligible bachelors in Honeysuckle willing to enter into a marriage of convenience. Especially without letting on to Mom.”
“What are his terms?” Preston leaned forward on his elbows.
“Standard arrangement. Marriage, wait out the year, divorce.” Jillian paused, then blew out a short frustrated breath. “But he wants seed money after the divorce—quite a bit more than we’d planned for—in order to start his life over again.”
A cold dread settled in Blake’s stomach. He pictured the slimy types who’d prey on vulnerabilities. He gritted his teeth and pushed away from the doorframe. “Start his life over again? What is he, an ex-con?”
“Blake—” Jillian started.
“No, seriously. Who needs seed money to ‘start over’ unless they’ve got a record or massive debt or—”
The room erupted in overlapping conversations—peppering Jillian with questions from the practical where does he live, what does he do, to the more ridiculous, is he dying or sick? Garret, the only sensible one, was suggesting a background check while Preston spouted numbers and timelines.
Blake looked around the room. Staring up at him, head resting on his paws, even Brady seemed to have an opinion. The dog’s one eyebrow was cocked higher than the other as if asking what was he waiting for.
Finally, Blake stuck his fingers in his mouth and let out an ear-piercing whistle. The room fell silent. “Y’all know this is totally nuts, right?” His gaze darted to each family member in the room.
Jillian shifted in her seat. “It’s probably not as awful as it sounds. Chet—”
“Chet?” Preston frowned. “What kind of name is that?”
Shaking her head, Jillian stared at her older brother. “What difference does it make? Other than wanting money to leave, he seems pretty normal.”
“Seems? Are you people listening to yourselves?” Even constantly on the road in his crazy music world, Blake had never felt so out of touch with reality in his life. This just had to be a dream—or a nightmare.
“It could work out.” Whether Rachel was trying to convince herself or the rest of her family, he didn’t have a clue.
Blake felt his own jaw clench. He knew—or at least had known—the Sweets as well if not better than his own family, and understood the weight on their shoulders. The dog was right, he had to do something. “I have some cash I don’t need. This place was my second home, practically. It’s the least I can do.”
“We’re not asking for charity.” Jillian’s chin jetted out in indignation.
