Her eyes narrowed as she studied me. “What’s going on with Ryder?”
That came out of left field. “Why don’t you ask him?”
“Because I’m asking you. His wife.”
“I’m his fake wife, and Ryder is the same as always.”
“Irresponsible. Flaky. Too cavalier in life,” she said repeating descriptive words I’d used to describe him in the past.
In my mind words like sexy and sweet came up, but I bit those back. “Is there something you want?”
“I’m just surprised you’ve made it this long. I thought this would be harder for you.”
I grinned. “Told ya. Fake marriage is a piece of cake.”
The mayor’s office door opened and he stepped out with Brooke behind him. “Ah, Trina. Were you able to help Mr. Stark with his permit?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. By the way, I’m sorry I didn’t mention his coming down. Brooke here says that was disrespectful of me and undermines your work.”
It was strange that it was nice to have him recognize how his actions impacted me, and at the same time want to scratch out Brooke’s eyes for being the one to make him see it.
I plastered on my fake smile. “I appreciate that, sir.”
17
Ryder
It seemed like yesterday that Trina moved in with me, but three weeks have passed. Our bet is nearly over and I’m on edge. While this situation had gone better than anticipated, I wasn’t sure she’d opened up enough to the idea of her and I being an item.
Trina spent her nights in my bed, which was fucking awesome. Her banter to me didn’t have the same snark and edge as it had before. We laughed a lot, and she sometimes confided in me about issues at work, such as how she thought the mayor was trying to create an atmosphere in which she’d leave so the new girl could have her job. When I asked Sinclair about this, she thought Trina was overreacting, and then shocked me by saying perhaps Trina was considering Stark’s offer to hire her.
My first thought was, Stark talked to Trina? When did this happen? He offered her a job? But knowing how Trina felt about Stark, I knew that couldn’t be the case. The one thing Trina and I agreed upon even when we didn’t get along was that he was an asshole. I didn’t even justify Sinclair’s statement by asking Trina about it because there’s no way she’d consider working for him.
The three weeks had gone well, so why was I on edge? Because as well as things were, I wasn’t sure how she felt about me. Sure, we couldn’t get enough of each other in bed, but that didn’t mean she loved me. It didn’t mean that once this bet was over that she wasn’t going to pack up her things and head home without a second thought about me.
For this last week, my goal was the same as it had been the previous three; I had to convince her to give me a real try. I had to make sure she stayed. Forever.
I sat in the manager’s office at the Salvation Station pondering all my options from whether I should just come clean and tell her how I felt, or continue to be more subtle in my approach.
I had conceded that while she wasn’t a fan of my easy-going manner, she also had some issues with my home, that she found cluttered and tired, while I thought it was cozy and comfortable. She also didn’t seem to think that working in a restaurant and moonlighting in a band was a good career. After a call with the owner, who once again talked to me about buying a partnership, I realized that if I could find a way to accept his offer, I might be able to convince Trina I was a safe, stable bet. I wasn’t frivolous with money, but I was a bartender/manager with a band. I wasn’t rolling in the dough. Part ownership though, would show commitment and provide more stability than simply being an employee. Plus, I could implement some of the ideas Mr. Coffey had been resistant to, such as having live music and dancing on the weekends or a ladies’ night.
The only challenge was the same as it had always been since he suggested it to me and that was money. I’d need a good chunk of change to buy in, and neither my job nor the band paid enough to save for a significant investment.
I finished my work and headed back to the bar, still wondering how I could convince Trina to stay. I pondered what she’d do if I asked her to marry me. She’d probably think I was nuts. “Are you crazy?” I could hear her say as clearly as if she was standing there. I laughed, because while it wouldn’t be the response I wanted, I always got a certain amusement out of shocking her. I suppose that was one of the things that bugged her about me.
“Take a break, Sam,” I said to the other bartender. She’d be on for the rest of the evening as I’d cleverly redone the schedule these last few weeks to spend more time at home in the evenings. Sam and our other bartender didn’t mind working late as tips tended to be better at night.
“Sure thing, Ry.” She headed off toward the kitchen.
I checked in on a couple of our regulars that liked to sneak a drink in before heading home.
“How are you doing, Earl?” I asked Mr. Nesbit.
“All right. Where’s Kelly?” he asked of one of our waitresses he liked to flirt with.
“Off today. Does Mrs. Nesbit know of your crush?”
He waved a hand. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt me.”
I shook my head. I never understood why men got married if they weren’t going to stay faithful. If I won Trina’s heart, I’d have no need to look any further. She was the whole package. Smart. Funny. Driven. Sure, she had a short fuse, but I liked
