What have I done?
I need to smile. Laugh it off. I can’t show her that I’m panicking that by making her my fiancée—soon to bemy wife—I may have inadvertently stopped anything from actually happening between us.
So I force myself to laugh. “I didn’t say the women are throwing themselves at me. I said theirgrandmothersare. You haven’t seen Eunice and Loretta on a mission like when one of their granddaughters comes to town. That’s some Advanced Husband Hunting.”
Her smile is so bright, it could light up a stadium. And just seeing that smile, hearing that generous laugh, makes me feel better.
How does she do that? How does she make people feel comfortable so effortlessly? And why can’t the rest of the town see it? A smile from Kayla is as good as a hug from anyone else.
“So, we probably have some things to work out,” she says. “Like a venue and a date. Or is this a courthouse affair?”
“I ain’t marrying you in a courthouse.”
“How do you really feel?”
I chuckle.
“I can see if Tripp’s farm has any availability,” she offers. “They do alotof weddings there.”
“No, it’s gotta be in Mullet Ridge. We need the town to see you as one of us.”
“Good point.”
“Where would you want to get married? If this were real?” I ask, my throat dry.
She cocks her head like I’ve taken her off guard.
“I’ve never thought about it.”
“What?” I laugh in disbelief. ”You were weeks away from marrying Aldridge. Are you saying that wasn’t your dream wedding?”
The look she gives me is dripping with sass. “I was marrying Aldridge Sinclair. Do you think I had a choice in anything? His mother ran that show. I was window dressing.”
Why does this hit like a punch? Thinking of this vibrant woman being pushed to the side and pulled out like a prop is like thinking of someone asking the sun to hide in the closet and not shine so bright. It makes my hands ball into fists.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “It should have been your show.”
“Maybe if I’d cared more, I would’ve fought for it,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Hey, I know this is a marriage with an agenda, but I need you to know the agenda isyours.”
“No.” Kayla says firmly. “I don’t want that. If we’re doing this, it has to work for both of us. The ordinance requires a year to establish residency. That’s too long for either of us to be unhappy.”
A quiet laugh escapes me.
“What?” she asks.
“You really are nothing like Serena. I don’t think she asked me a single question about what I wanted our relationship to look like, let alone our wedding.”
Kayla frowns, and maybe it’s just the reflection of the parking lot lights, but her eyes look almost wet.
“Sean, let’s not relegate each other to the roles we’ve played for other people. This marriage is clearly—” she pauses, like she’s hunting for the right word— “unique.”
“A creative solution,” I supply.
“Born of extenuating circumstances.“
“Convenient.”
