Page 10 of If You Claim Me
“That sounds ominous.” And like there are strings attached. As it seems there always are.
“It’s not ideal, but it will solve your problem. However, it will also create a few new ones.”
“Isn’t that always the way?” One person’s win is another’s loss.
“Basically, yeah.” He crosses his arms. “My Meems adores you.”
It melts my ovaries every time this perpetually broody man refers to his posh grandmother asMeems. I nod. “We’ve already established that I adore her back. I’m not seeing how that solves my problem.”
He releases a tense breath, jaw flexing as his gaze shifts to the right. “Without the surgery, she has at most a year, maybe a bitmore, if she’s very careful. But her immune system is struggling to the point that the flu could take her out right now.”
My stomach sinks. “She’s that immunocompromised?” How can she come to the library when it’s often full of germ-infested, adorable kids?
He nods.
“I’m so sorry.” I want to offer comfort in the form of a hug, but Connor doesn’t strike me as very hug receptive. Besides, every time I touch him, my body goes haywire.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You didn’t do this to her body.” He rolls his shoulders back, like this next part is uncomfortable. “She wants to see me married and settled before she passes. She’s been fairly relentless about me pursuing you. If you become my wife, it would make her happy, and it would solve your financial problems.”
“How would marrying you solve my financial problems?”
“My family has a lot of money.”
Shock makes me feel weightless for a moment. He’s serious, though. His intent is written all over his handsome, remote face. “But…until yesterday you didn’t even really speak to me unless you had to. We don’t even like each other?” The second half comes out as a question. Sure, I’m fascinated by him, and I find him attractive, but that’s a far cry from wanting to marry him.
“I don’t dislike you.” He looks anywhere but me and swallows.
His phrasing seems intentional. Protective. “Not disliking me is not the same as liking me,” I point out.
He shifts from foot to foot. “I enjoy sitting beside you at Callie’s games.”
“In silence,” I note.
“It’s often better when I don’t speak.”
This is a man who is used to being hated. By everyone—except his Meems and his number-one fan, who’s a nine-year-old orphan.
“I’ll hire the best lawyer in the city to handle this for you.”He holds up the letter from my landlord. “I will cover the legal costs and the rent owed on the apartment, and for every month we’re together, starting thirty days from our engagement forward, I’ll pay you a quarter of a million dollars. When Meems passes”—he makes the sign of the cross—“we’ll annul the marriage, and you’ll be free to live your life.”
The proposal itself leaves me reeling. But more than that, the end of Meems is a heartbreaking thought.
If I agree to this, I could leave the relationship with three million dollars. I’ll never struggle financially again.
“What’s the catch?” Other than all my friends wondering whether I’ve lost my mind, and my best friend might murder my future husband.Am I really considering this?
Connor frowns. “You’ll be married to me for an undetermined number of months. It could be a handful, or it could be more than a year if something miraculous happens. You’ll also have to meet my family, who loathe me almost as much as my teammates. That’s the catch, and it’s a pretty big one.”
Geez, this guy really can’t stand himself. He’s so rigid—prepared to either be laughed at or negotiate the terms of this business venture. Because that’s what it is. He’s offering me financial stability in exchange for his grandmother’s happiness. She would be my Meems, too. She would bemyfamily.Having her for a grandma is almost worth it on its own.This offer tells me more about Connor as a human being than maybe he realizes. Under the gruff, cold exterior is a man with a very soft, very fragile heart.
“You said annul.”
“That’s correct.”
“So no consummating the marriage.”Why are parts of my body that have no business being excited tingling?
He clears his throat and looks away uncomfortably. “You would be under no contractual obligation to do so. Although there may be occasions when you’ll have to kiss me,” he warns.
“Like the wedding.”
