Present day . . .
“Are you making yourself comfortable in my son’s house?”
“Right now, I couldn’t be more uncomfortable.” I give him a tight smile. “Thanks for asking.”
He rocks back on his heels and tucks his hands in his pockets. “Do you want to explain why we’re in the same room together again? I’m assuming you have some sort of explanation.”
“Um, because you drove over here and walked in the front door like you own the place?”
His eyes blaze. He never was a fan of my sarcasm. “Why are you in my son’s life? In his house? Why are you married to him when you promised me—”
“I know what I promised.” I swallow, hating the devil in front of me and the deal we made. “We’re married because we were in Vegas and I was drunk.”
“Yeah, I saw the video. Along with the rest of the world.”
I curl my hands into fists at my sides, and my nails bite into my palms. “It was a mistake, and we have every intention of dissolving the marriage.”
“That was clever of you. Get drunk. Marry a rich man. No prenup and the perfect excuse to break your promise.”
How could Mason have come from this man? Mason, who is so warm and giving, who believes the best of me even when I don’t deserve it. “You always think everyone’s after money, don’t you?”
Christian arches a brow. “Weren’t you?”
I don’t answer. The last thing I ever wanted was for Christian Dahl to understand just how much I was giving up when I took his check and agreed to never have a relationship with Mason. I didn’t want him to know how deeply I felt for his son. Now is no different. If he knew, he’d only find a way to use the information to hurt me more.
There was a point in my life when I didn’t understand what it was like to want things that didn’t cost money. There was a point when all the things I wanted could be bought—a better house, new clothes for school, a car to get to work when I turned sixteen, fancy makeup, the shoes all the girls were wearing. I wanted those things so much I ached with it. But until I made a deal with Christian Dahl, I had no idea what it was like to want something that can’t be bought.
“What do you want, Bailey?” he asks. “How do I make this go away?”
“I want a divorce,” I answer honestly, because the little girl who believed in fairytales died a long time ago. I’m Tammy Green’s daughter, and I know what happens when a girl like me tries to live in a world like Mason’s. “We were planning to take care of it. But since you and your friends seem so set on playing matchmaker, Mason wants me to pretend to be his wife for a while.” I cock my head. “Kind of ironic, isn’t it? If you weren’t so set on getting your son to marry the right kind of girl, he wouldn’t be trying to draw out his marriage to me.”
Christian’s nostrils flare, and he folds his arms as he studies me. “You think this is hilarious, don’t you?”
“I don’t find anything amusing about a situation that makes me have to talk to you.”
His eye twitches. “You said you’re going to dissolve the marriage. When, exactly, do you plan on making that happen?”
“He wants me to move in until the end of the regular season.”
A phone buzzes, and Christian pulls his cell from his pocket and frowns at it before looking back up at me. “You do what you have to do. Move your ass, be his wife, show him you’re not who he thinks you are, and then get the divorce. Try to keep out of the press. We don’t need any more attention on this embarrassing situation than you’ve already had.” He looks me over, disgust curling his lip. “Maybe time with you under his roof is just what he needs to realize you’re the trash I know you are.”
The words take me back to when I was seven and got in a fight with a mean girl at school because she’d called my mom “trash.” I came home all teary-eyed and snotty with scraped-up palms from where I’d caught myself when she pushed me. Sarah had cleaned me up. “Don’t waste your energy trying to change people’s opinions of her. We can’t undo the choices she made.” The stern line of her mouth told me she blamed Mom and not the mean girl, and for the first time, my perspective of my world shifted as I realized that even my own sister couldn’t forgive our mother for her choices.
“If the new year comes and you’re still here, I’ll make sure everyone knows your secrets. All of them. Do I make myself clear?”
My eyes burn with tears I refuse to let this man see. “Crystal.”
Bailey: I’m not implying that all it takes to win me is a couple of toaster pastries, but you got the kind with SPRINKLES. So, I guess I’m moving in.
I reread the text a dozen times to make sure I’m not imagining things. A grin stretches across my face. I can’t help it. She’s telling me exactly what I want to hear. Maybe she’s only agreed to a few months, but she’s giving me the chance to get her out of Blackhawk Valley for good. The chance to have more time with her.
I tamp down the second thought. Bailey’s made it clear what she does and doesn’t want from me. Expecting that to change now is asking for heartache.
“Have a picture of a naked woman on there or what?” Owen says, tossing me a towel.
“Not a naked woman, but a text from Bailey. She’s going to move in.”
Owen grunts. “Of course she is. She looks at you like you’re a fucking mythical hero. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind.”
I shake my head and wipe my face and neck with the towel on the way to the locker room. “Nothing’s ever that simple when it comes to Bailey.”
I sit down on a bench in the locker room, ignoring Owen’s laughter. I can’t stop smiling, and reply with the only thing left to say.
Me: Of course I got the ones with sprinkles, and there’s more where that came from.