When I finished serving the patrons at the other end of the bar, I returned to the group. “So, what was decided? Are we getting fake married, Katrina?”
She looked at all of us like we’d grown third eyes. “You’re all crazy. I can’t believe we’re really talking about this.”
“Hey, you’re the one that came up with this idea,” Sinclair said, holding her hands up in surrender.
“For Wyatt to keep his farm and you to win over the town,” Trina said in exasperation.
“The motivation isn’t in question,” Wyatt said.
“He’s right,” Sinclair agreed. “You said it would be easy peasy to be fake married, and you continue to hold that opinion even though both Wyatt and I said it wasn’t as easy as you think. So, put your money where your mouth is. Prove us wrong.”
Trina’s eyes narrowed as she looked from Sinclair to me. I tried to keep cool. I hoped I looked indifferent to her decision even though inside I was praying for her to accept the bet. I could already picture her in my home. In my kitchen. In my bed. Blood rushed to my dick at that thought. Thank God I was behind the bar.
“Fine. It will be a piece of cake.” Trina held out her hand to Sinclair to shake on the bet.
Yes! Inside, I was doing cartwheels. “Maybe we should drink on it.” I pulled out four shot glasses and poured top shelf whiskey in each.
Wyatt whistled. “Going for the good stuff.”
“It’s gotta count, right?” I said, pushing a glass to each of them while picking up one for myself.
“To fake marriage,” I said, saluting Trina.
“We’re not actually doing a ceremony are we?” she asked. “I mean, you two were legally married even though it was fake. I’m not doing that.”
“No, it can be all pretend,” Sinclair said.
Trina looked like she ate food that had gone bad as she lifted her drink in salute and drank with the rest of us.
“You can move in tomorrow when you get off work. I’m off and can help,” I said, reaching for their glasses.
“I’d like another,” Wyatt said, holding on to his glass.
Sinclair looked at him.
“Then we can go to the oak tree,” he winked.
“No talking about sex in front of the brother,” I said. It had been a revelation to learn the things Wyatt did to my sister under that tree on my parents’ property. I hadn’t known about their relationship until Sinclair told me she was pregnant after Wyatt had run off. I didn’t mind their relationship, although at first it was weird thinking of my best friend and my sister as more than friends. But I loved them both, and wanted them to be happy. After ten years apart and a fake marriage, they were finally happy. But still, I didn’t need to know about their sex life.
“Move in? What are you talking about?” Trina asked, bringing me back to my original statement.
“Fake married people live together. Don’t they?” I turned to Sinclair and Wyatt for confirmation.
“They do,” Sinclair confirmed, a sly smile on her face.
I turned back to Trina. “I’ve got lots of space.”
“Wait a minute,” Trina started to back track. “Why do I have to move in with him?”
“Because he’s your fake husband,” Sinclair said. “Married people, even fake married ones, live together.”
“Why can’t he move in with me?”
“First, you have a tiny, one-bedroom place and second, let’s face it, you don’t think I’m worthy of your place,” I said. “But if you want me in your bed, I’ll do it. I’ll sacrifice for the cause.”
“Wait, we don’t have to share a bed, do we?”
I tried not to be offended that she found the idea of sleeping with me so distasteful.
“I’ll wear pajamas,” I teased. “I don’t normally, but if it will make it easier for you to keep your hands off me—”
“Shut up, Ryder,” Trina snapped. “I’m not sharing a bed.”
“I had a separate bed when I was fake married to Wyatt,” Sinclair said.
“Except you didn’t sleep in it,” Wyatt reminded her.
“I did some,” she replied.
“Not if I could help it.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Geez, you two need to go home.” I rolled my eyes and then looked at Trina, “I have a second bedroom. What’s it going to be? Me in your bed, or you in your own bed at my place?” I knew what her answer would be, even as I wished she said her choice would be me in her bed.
Trina groaned and shook her head. “Fine. Your place.”
She didn’t sound happy about this, but that was all right. With her in my home, secluded on a couple of acres of property, I had the perfect setting to woo my fake wife into giving me a chance.
4 Trina
There’s something seriously wrong with me, I thought as I put a box filled with books and a few other personal doo-dads into the trunk of my car.
Sinclair tossed my suitcase in beside it. “Don’t groan, Trina. After all, how hard could being fake married be?”
Ugh. I hated how she kept throwing that back at me. The truth was, it was going to be excruciatingly hard. Thirty days with Ryder? The man who publicly embarrassed me? He lived to push my buttons. It was going to be the hardest month of my life. But I wasn’t going to admit to that.
“I’m not sure what the big deal is. I’m simply going to hang out at Ryder’s place for a month. When it’s done, I’ll get my book back.” I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, even though I was sure I had a brain tumor or something for agreeing to this nutty scheme.
