“Oh, to have your problems, ye of perfect face and stick-up ass.”
“I don’t have—”
“Who were you with, then?”
I pause, not sure why I’m hesitant to admit the truth. “Gracie.”
The astonished look on Henry’s face would be comical if it didn’t reveal exactly how low his confidence in me is.
“You’re telling me you managed to unsink theTitanicand get her to grab a drink with you? Was it bribery or kidnapping?”
“Neither,” I say, pushing sweaty hair back from my face. “It was her idea.”
“Explain.”
We keep jogging, and I tell him about the night I apologized and told her about Nana’s will. How Gracie used her newfound upper hand to make the absurd proposal I found myself agreeing to.
“So let me get this straight. Gracie thinks she can convinceyou—the founding father of fuck boys—to keep the place you hate most in the world by forcing you to plan aweddingwith her? I feel like I should tell her she’d have a better chance if she just ransomed Taco.”
I snort. “Are you kidding me? Taco would ransomherif she got too close. Also, Gracie doesn’t know me like you do.” Guilt slinks through my stomach. “She thinks she has a chance.”
“Does she also think you have an entirely different personality? Have you taken up method acting?”
“She knows it’s a long shot. But she also knows I’m selling it no matter what, so she figures she may as well put all her chips on the table.”
“So now you’re planning a wedding.Youare planning awedding.”
I wipe my brow, squinting as the sun breaks through the trees. “I’m happy to jump through whatever hoops she’s got for me as long as I get that cottage by August.”
I don’t mention that those hoops have been flaming with guilt. Meeting with each new vendor has felt like stomping on a butterfly.
“And you’re willing to go through this for the all-important mystery buyer you won’t give me a single hint about,” Henry says.
When I let silence stretch between us, he says, “It’s Dwayne ‘TheRock’ Johnson, isn’t it? Did he threaten to crush you between his pecs if you tell anyone? Blink twice if I’m right.”
My laugh is half groan as I shake my head. “Pleasestop asking me.”
“Okay, fine. I get it,” he says, slapping a bug off his shoulder. “Confidential. How does your mom feel about all this, by the way? She must be pissed Agatha skipped over her in the will. She hardly left her anything at all.”
The question, which I’m only surprised he hasn’t asked sooner, is another one I don’t want to answer. Because my mom isn’t pissed—she’s heartbroken. Nana understood that anything she gave to my mom would inevitably benefithim, too. My father. And that was simply out of the fucking question.
“It’s complicated,” I grunt.
Henry sighs. “Ah, yes. The hallowed words from your family’s crest.”
“Every family is complicated.”
“Yeah, except yours could be the inspo for a BBC miniseries.”
“Why do you think I’m trying so hard to get rid of this place?”
“Getting cocktails with a gorgeous woman doesn’t seem like too much of a hardship, if I’m being honest.”
No. It wasn’t. In fact, I’ve spent most of the last thirty-six hours replaying every moment in that bar with the feverish intensity of a horny teenager who’s just discovered new uses for soap. Every time I close my eyes, I see her dark cat eyes tracing my tattoos like a fingertip. Feel her unwavering conviction in love-everlasting tighten its chokehold on me. It’s as incomprehensible and irresistible to me as any villain who secretly craves the one thing he claims to despise.
I pick up my pace like I have a hope of outrunning my own thoughts, but they just snarl beside me.How could I have let myself almost kiss her?It’s bad enough that I’m stringing her along, letting her think she has a chance of winning me over, when I know there’s only one way this is going to end—with zero chance of her not hating me.
By the time Henry catches up again, our exhalations are harsh as we adjust to the faster cadence I’ve set. He glances at me. “So, on the topic of drinking with beautiful women, I was thinking of asking her out. Gracie, I mean.”
