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I nearly laugh at the surprise blanketing her face. “Well, then. I suppose congratulations are in order.”
“That won’t be necessary. I simply wanted to let you know and see what you needed from me before we move forward with getting a marriage license and making arrangements with the courthouse.”
Her gray eyes stare right through me, but my arrogance is short-lived when she smirks. “I can’t think of anything that wasn’t already covered in the paperwork.”
I watch her carefully. “That’s great.”
Then she snaps, feigning innocence as something dawns on her. “Except… You did read the section detailing the stipulations of your engagement, didn’t you?”
My pulse ticks higher as I think back to the day I signed the documents. I’d been overwhelmed and hurried through them to get this whole mess behind me.
Fucking rookie mistake.
“Mm-hmm,” I hum, knowing goddamn well I have no idea what she’s talking about.
Her eyes narrow. “So you’re aware that your engagement can be no shorter than two months?”
A breath freezes in my lungs.
“You’ll need to pick a ring from the family vault, have an engagement party, and participate in premarital counseling… Ringing any bells?”
I clear my throat. “Of course.”
“And you’ll have the wedding here, at the manor.” I don’t appreciate the gloating look on her face, her pleasure in getting one over on me irritatingly evident. “After inviting the rest of Magnolia Creek.”
The entire town? That’s insanity. How could Cayce have let me miss something as major as this?
This will has become an ever-present thorn in my side, and now, I have to convince Molly to go along with it for even longer, not to mention, much more publicly.
Sam won’t be happy about this development, either. But aside from the amount of time it’s going to take, nothing’s really changing. He’s still going to get the manor, Molly will still get her money, and I’ll be free once it’s all said and done.
“Right,” I confirm tightly.
“Great. And just so we’re clear…” She smiles wide, but the steps she takes toward me are borderline threatening. My shoulders bunch defensively as her voice drops to a near-whisper. “I’m the judge and jury for this will and testament, therefore, I have the power to take all of this away. If you cut a single corner, or if I so much as sniff anything less than authenticity between you and your bride-to-be, that’s exactly what I’ll do.”
I snarl when she haughtily brushes past me. “Do let me know when you two would like to move forward.”
Chapter Eleven
Rowan
I take the cobblestone steps up to Molly and her father’s cottage-style home and knock on the front door. It’s painted an electric blue—a vibrant contrast to the purple, yellow, and white pansies planted in the garden beds on either side of the stoop.
Little gnomes and fairytale creatures with paint-chipped faces are scattered throughout the garden, with stone frogs and other playful figurines set between them. Glancing toward their driveway, I note that the Porsche I gave Molly is missing, and in its place is that gargantuan bucket of bolts she referred to as ‘Big Red.’
The front door flings open, and I devour the sight of Molly in a pair of work boots, ripped jeans, and a bright teal shirt. Sweat beads her brow, and her face is flushed, but I don’t miss the way her gaze scales my body, too.
“Those overalls of yours are bound to be jealous,” I say dryly, tugging on the tool belt hanging from her hips.
She bats my hand away. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Someone at the door, sweetheart?” Mr. Hart, I assume, calls distantly.
“I’ve got it!” she hollers back.
I smirk as she nervously tucks loose tendrils of hair behind her ears. “Well, go on. Tell him who I am, sweetheart.”
Molly pulls the door partly closed with a hint of attitude. “You could’ve texted that you were on your way over. At least given me some kind of warning.”
