If we married, I’d move in. I’d get early morning footage from within the house, instead of me arriving at four, where I miss his process of waking up, stretching his sore muscles from yesterday’s training, the way morning looks against his face when he stands at the sink and makes coffee—I could film all of that, and add a layer of vulnerability and closeness that I couldn’t do otherwise.
Devin appears in my mind, and as much as I don’t want the decision to do this favor for Landry to have anything to do with him, I can’t help but imagine the look on his face when he learns that I married this fucking gorgeous cowboy, and made a movie that wins awards and blows past him professionally.
My eyes get heavy, but I pull my phone off the charger and do a quick search of Texas marriage, learning they can be both quick and reversible.
Perfect.
I tell myself I’m gonna sleep on it, but in my heart, I already have my answer.
CHAPTER 13
I LIKE WOMEN WHO YELL IN CHURCH
“But why, Daddy?”Sadie asks again, shoving her hand into my jeans pocket the way she’s done since she was just two. She does it when she wants my attention and it’s pressing.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Because I have a headache today, sweetheart,” I explain as she stands on top of my boot, clinging to my pocket. I peg-leg walk to the side of the truck and lift her in, because she loves it when I do that. “So no Chappell Roan until we’re home and I can escape, okay?”
She smiles. “Okay. I’m sorry about your head.”
I close her door gently and walk around the truck, before getting inside and glancing at the clock. We have ten minutes to get to church, which is only five minutes away, thankheavens.
“Daddy, if your head hurts, how will you make it through church today?” she asks, and that’s a great question. I hook a finger through the bottom of the steering wheel to keep it steady as I head down the road. “We don’t sing as much as y’all do at Sunday school.”
“And that’s why I don’t wanna get too old for Sunday school. I don’t wanna go to church and not sing,” she says, thinking aloud as she ties and reties the pink bow I added to her ponytail, per her request.
“Well, you’ll be in Sunday school for a few more years before you come to the adult service,” I assure her.
We pass by the Bricketts’, who wave at us from the side of the road where they’re pulled over, likely letting their youngest, Albie, go pee. A few minutes of bumpy road and fresh air, and the church is in sight. I’ve got my mind set on tipping my hat over my face and catching a rest—sorry, Pastor Rick.
Except I know I won’t be able to rest, or even focus because Sadie knocks on her window as I’m pulling into the parking lot, hollering, “Look! Miss Quinn came to church today, too!”
Sure enough, there she is, in a long white skirt and tank top, her golden hair down and straight, the sun making it glow as she talks to Mabel at the back of her car.
“Daddy, look! Miss Quinn has red boots today!” Sadie bounces in her seat excitedly, rapping at the glass with her little fingers.
I shift the truck into park and get out, finding Sadie already running toward Quinn full speed. I place my hat on my head, over my uncombed hair, and dust my hands on my thighs, suddenly a little nervous. Why, I’m not sure, considering Quinn’s seen me aching as I train, no doubt zoomed in on the lines of stress on my old forehead, heard my bonespop, and seen my skin wear as agony twists my face into something ugly. She’s seen me in some bad ways, so why do I feel nervous?
Oh Christ.
The marriage proposal.
Tate’s plan.
TatumfuckingCollier. How the hell did I let his ideas get into my head? How could I have thought that a temporary, fake marriage is a good idea? When we were in eighth grade, he thought climbing into the back of his grandmother’s station wagon and hiding in the back seat until she got home was a great way to get us across town. He had no idea that Bessie Collier, the adorable granny with the best double chocolate chip cookies in town, had a gambling habit.
Long story short, his daddy had to pick us up when the casino manager found us trying to fish coins out of the penny slots.
“I’m headin’ inside. I’ll save you a spot,” Mabel says to Quinn as I approach, wanting to collect my child and head inside.No small talk, I silently beg. If I’m lucky, maybe Quinn was drunk last night, too, and can’t remember the proposal.
Mabel smiles at me as I claim Sadie with a hand to her shoulder. “I’ll save a spot for all three of you,” she says, heading toward the double open doors in her church best without so much as a glance back.
“Sadie, sugar, why don’t you head inside with Miss Mabel and help her save seats,” I offer, which may not have worked had Tate, Love, and the girls not been wandering up to the doors at that exact moment.
“I’m so excited you came to church this week,” Sadie squeals, tugging Quinn’s hand before letting go, racing off to catch up with Mabel, Love, Petunia, and her sisters.
It’s quiet between us but for the chirping of birds, cardoors closing, and the shuffle of boots on gravel of people rushing to make it in time for service. Quinn watches until Sadie’s inside the church.
I’m workin’ the words around on my tongue, trying to figure out the best way to throw Tate under the proverbial bus and get out of this asinine deal I’ve pitched, but then Quinn Farley sets her green eyes on me and blurts, “I’ll do it. I’ll marry you. But after church, I want to go to lunch, just me and you, and talk through my demands.”
