“You are going to let a woman you barely know, who just recently got out of prison, come live with you? Like I already said, I also barely know you, you could have a torture chamber in your basement, or a scary doll collection.” My voice is steadily getting higher and louder with disbelief. He lets out an actual guffaw.
“Hey! These are perfectly legitimate concerns, don’t laugh,” I tell him with a scowl.
“Of course they are, and I’m not trying to diminish them. I’m just cracking up picturing myself with a scary doll collection,” he assures me.
“So if I go to your house there won’t be anything creepy?”
“Carlo can attest that I have nothing like that at my house, and I’m not letting a woman I barely know move in with me. I’m going to invite my friend who needs a better living situation to come live with me,” he corrects. “I don’t know your full story, but maybe you’ll tell me sometime. I know enough from Carlo that you were in prison because the charge against you was bullshit, though. I’ve been bartending for a long time, Celeste. I’ve seen every type ofperson at their most uninhibited, and I can spot an asshole a mile away. You’re a good person.”
His voice rings with pure sincerity, those gorgeous chocolate brown eyes mapping my face like he wants to memorize every detail, and it makes something in the armor I like to keep around me crack. Aside from Tania, no one has ever said I’m a good person who is worth a damn. Most of my life I’ve either been cast aside like trash, or used because of my looks. Even my well-meaning last set of foster parents, who truly tried with me, thought I was too angry and difficult. Jack and Beverly had a much easier time with Tania, who’s always managed to keep some of her sweetness in spite of everything she’s been through.
She had been eight when she went into the foster care system after she suddenly lost her loving parents, and then her grandmother. I went into it when I was four because my parents left me after they decided they hated parenting. I shudder to think about what my life would be like if we didn’t end up in the same home all those years ago, and I didn’t have her to look after and motivate me to be better. We both saved each other when our lives were turned upside down, and we had no one else.
I’m so lost in thought that I haven’t acknowledged what Gage just said, so I shake myself out of my reverie.
“Sorry, you kind of threw me for a loop. Are you always such a sweet talker?” I ask, trying to bring some teasing back to cover how much what he said affected me.
“Just speaking the truth,” he replies with a casual shrug.
“I appreciate it,” I tell him honestly.
Then my mind snaps back to the subject at hand, and the logistics of what Gage is proposing. It’s madness that’s never going to work.
“Won’t your dad and brother know that us gettingmarried is just a ploy for you to get the bar? They’ll never believe you’d marry me for real.” It’s ludicrous to think we’d be able to fool anybody into thinking I’m the marrying kind, let alone getting someone as charming and seemingly good as Gage to marry me.
“Oh please, my dad was putty in your hands within two seconds. He saw us together tonight, so it’s perfect that he already knows about you. The marriage won’t be completely out of the blue. It’s not like he can object since I’m doing exactly what he asked me to do. My big brother and his family will only care that I’m happy, they know how quick and impulsive I can be. Moving you in with me will help sell it, too.” He’s getting more and more animated with each word, while I’m still stuck on how we would make this work.
“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down there,” I interject. “Yes, it would be a mutually beneficial arrangement, but what would it look like? You said we need to sell it. Are we going to kiss in front of your family? Pretend we share a room if they come over? Would we stay loyal to each other for however long we decide to stay married, or are we free to see other people? This all needs to be thought through before we decide to get hitched, Mr. Impulsive.” He frowns, a crease forming in his brow.
“I don’t like the idea of seeing other people while we’re married. It seems wrong and pretty gross. I don’t date much anyway, so it wouldn’t exactly be a loss for me. What do you think?”
“You’re one of the very few men in this world I actually like, so loyalty will not be an issue,” I agree. He runs a hand through his hair, clearly lost in thought. There’s an excited glint in his eye though, he genuinely thinks this is a fantastic idea. I can’t help but get a little caught up in that excitementwith him, warming to the idea of helping each other with what we need.
“As far as your other questions about selling it to my family, we’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with. Holding hands, little touches, kisses, it’s all up to you,” he assures me.
“We can play it by ear, see what feels right in the moment,” I offer, since I clearly don’t mind him touching me. He nods decisively. Then a deep baritone calls out as footsteps sound in the hallway.
“Gage, Dad told me to not bother you back here, but the bar is busy, and I think you need to come back from your break. I only know how to sling beers and pour wine.”
“Shit, sorry, Wayne. Tell Iggy I’ll be right there.”
He looks at me chagrined as his brother approaches. They could be twins, except Wayne doesn’t have as broad of a smile, with a slightly taller and leaner frame. His hair is also closely cropped, in contrast to Gage’s longer, wavy mane. He hits Gage upside the head in a good-natured way that only brothers can do before squeezing him around the neck in an approximation of a hug. Then Wayne sticks out his hand to me.
“How ya doing? I’m Gage’s brother, Wayne. He’s a little slow with introductions. I know we saw each other the first time you were here with everyone celebrating, but never got to actually chat since I was holed up talking business all night behind the bar.”
“Celeste. Nice to properly meet you,” I say, giving his warm hand a shake.
If my last foster parents managed to drill anything into me, it was manners and a firm handshake. Up until I ended up with them, politeness was not a part of my world. If I needed something, I took it and ran before one of the other kids got it first, or whoever was responsiblefor me took it away again. Whatever school I was in would complain about my behavior, and I’d usually get shuttled to another home, hoping I would do better there. Jack and Bev made damn sure I realized that as long as I was polite and used my manners, I’d have what I needed. They were strict, but not in the worst ways like my previous families.
“At least we’re not sending you out into the world completely feral,” they had said with a sigh when I aged out. Wayne’s low voice pulls me back to the present.
“Sorry to interrupt you two, I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t necessary. I’m not complaining about the good business, but poor Iggy is drowning,” he says, eyeing us speculatively. “I’m also not that sorry though, I had to come see why Dad said not to bother you back here,” he goes on to his brother with a glint in his eye.
Gage rolls his eyes. “You’re an asshat.”
“I’m not the one who left Iggy in the lurch,” Wayne fires back, but there’s no bite to it, only brotherly teasing.
“Okay, I’m going. I’ll be up in one minute. Try and help him out while I wrap up back here, yeah?” Gage says, flicking his brother’s nose. Wayne shakes his head with a sigh.
