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Those puppy dog eyes darkened. “Lucy, do you know how many stations my family owns?”
She didn’t answer.
“Enough of them so that if it’s true, and you’d like to have a colonoscopy on national television, I could make it happen for you. Your choice isn’t really that hard. You’re either my wife for the next few days, or you could be backside up under a curtain on Good Morning America by Monday.”
She bit into her bacon, but now it tasted like ash. “Fine,” she muttered. “Let’s get married.”
He grinned brighter than the sun coming through the window. “It’ll be great.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Hours later, Lucy lugged her bag through the newsroom, ready for her fake honeymoon in Twin Lakes. William had told her to wear something post-wedding appropriate, so she had tugged on a cream-colored business suit and packed a bag.
As always, the reporters on duty stood gabbing in the corner of the room. They turned collectively to gawk at Lucy.
Anderson let out a catcall and began a slow applause. “Congratulations on your wedding.”
“Don’t even start.” Lucy jerked at the hem of her jacket.
William emerged from one of the editing bays with a case of equipment. The black tuxedo he wore fit him entirely too well, amplifying his muscles and encouraging Lucy’s daydream of being a glorified bridal Barbie about to marry a real-life Ken.
His lazy gaze wandered over her. “You look pretty.”
“Thanks,” she whispered, ignoring the way her cheeks heated at his comment.
“What all did you pack?” He glanced to her oversize suitcase and humor flashed in his eyes.
“Just what I need for a few days.”
“Uh-huh.” He didn’t sound at all like he believed her.
“What does that mean? Uh-huh?”
He stacked her bags near the equipment cases. “It means, sure.”
“You say ‘uh-huh,’ but your tone implies something else.” She smoothed the fabric of her skirt.
“Remind me never, ever to wake you up early again.” He said this like he had every intention of waking her up early.
“I can’t believe I agreed to marry you,” she huffed.
“The wedding’s barely over, and you two are already bickering like an old married couple. Need me to show you how to handle her?” Anderson asked.
William grinned. “Nah. I got this. C’mon, Snookums.”
“Pet names? Really?” Lucy checked her phone.
“I couldn’t get ahold of Jeff to watch Mitzy.”
“Dixie and Simon will stop in and take care of her while you’re gone. I arranged it while you were in the shower this morning.”
“That was a little presumptuous, don’t you think, Snookums?” Lucy asked.
“Probably, but it worked out anyway.”
“Did anyone talk to Bridgett? She didn’t respond to my texts.” Lucy pushed her phone into her purse.
“Stopped by to see her on the way here. She’s on the mend.” He reached into the pocket of his slacks and tossed Lucy a ring box. “To make it official.”
