Page 11 of If You Claim Me
He nods. “Like the wedding.”
“I assume you have some kind of legal and binding contract?”
Connor doesn’t seem like the kind of man who would come to the table unprepared.
He pulls an envelope out of his pocket. “You should read it over.”
I take a seat at the kitchen table and read the contract through twice while Connor stands with his arms crossed, wearing an expression of impassive indifference. But his thumbs tap restlessly against his biceps, belying his nerves.
“If you agree, the plan would be to have a short engagement,” he adds.
“Won’t Meems be suspicious?” My friends sure will.
He glances away, toward my bookshelves. “I may have mentioned Callie’s games.”
“You mean that we sit beside each other?”
He dips his chin.
I wait for him to elaborate, but apparently I’m supposed to draw my own conclusions. Like somehow our attending Callie’s games has made us realize we’re in love? But maybe his sitting beside me every time is a bigger deal than I’ve realized. I assumed he had ill intentions at first, but then…he just kept sitting there, just kept being sweet with Callie and not a dick to me.
And now here we are.
If I agree to marry him, I keep not only my apartment, but the found family I’ve worked so hard to foster. I won’t have to move out of the city so I can afford cheaper rent.
Flip will be pissed that it’s Connor. But he’ll get over it. He loves me like a sister. He knows what it’s like to always worry about making ends meet. And he’ll understand why I didn’t let him come to the rescue.
I reach behind me and pluck a pen from the mug on the shelf.
“You’ll have to pretend to like me,” he warns balefully. “You’ll have to make my Meems believe that we’re real.” He makes this sound like an impossible feat.
“I know.” I press the end of the pen, and the point appears.
“You’ll have to move in with me,” he adds. “You’ll have to live with me for the duration of our marriage.”
Is he trying to dissuade me now? “I understand. I’m doing this for me and Meems, in that order.”
He nods his approval. “Good.”
I hover the pen over the line with my name typed underneath. It feels like giving a blood oath. But this is the way out of the mess I’m in—probably the only way without making it my best friend’s problem. It’s a contract. Just a job with a deadline, an excellent payday, and the most amazing grandmother in the world. Besides, Connor is gone half the year.
I sign my name and date the papers before I have a chance to second-guess myself.
Connor leans in and does the same. “I’ll have it filed and send you a copy.” He folds the contract and tucks it into his pocket. Then he pulls out a small velvet box.
He doesn’t drop to one knee, and I don’t expect him to. This isn’t a love match. We’re doing it because we love the same person, and this union gives us both something we need. He flips the lid open. Inside is the most stunning engagement ring I’ve ever seen. I hope it isn’t a family heirloom.
Wordlessly he extends a hand, and I place mine in his palm. Tingles shoot up my arm, and warmth courses through my veins at the contact. Marriage has never been on my radar. Romantic love isn’t something I’m well-versed in. All love is scary, but the kind where you give your heart, body,andsoul to another person has always seemed too precarious a thing to want for someone as broken as me.
But this isn’t love. This is a business arrangement. We’re helping each other, and that’s it.
Still, my heart stutters as he gently slides the ring onto my finger.
I meet his gaze, and sadness flickers there for a moment before his expression goes carefully blank. “You’re stuck in this nightmare with me now.” A small, rueful smile tugs the corner of his mouth. “It will probably get worse before it gets better, but I appreciate you doing this for Meems.”
CHAPTER 5
CONNOR
