Page 17 of The Contract Marriage

“Give it back!” I shouted, trying to ignore the unbearable throbbing in my ankle.

Turning around and hopping backward, Brielle held it over her head. “Make me.”

If only I weren’t injured…! I curled my hands into fists as I glared at her.

Grinning, she tossed it high above us. Malice glinted in her eyes as she waited for me to cry as another of Mom’s keepsakes was about to be destroyed.

A guy ran between us and caught it, arm outstretched. Brielle looked shocked, and I bit my lip at the sight of Liam holding the watch. “What’s going on?” he said, his unreadable eyes on Brielle’s face.

She smiled and strode over, wrapping her arms around one of his and pressing her cleavage against it. His eyes flicked in my direction, then he looked at her again, the tips of his ears reddening.

Dread settled in my belly like milk gone sour. Guys always sided with her when she rubbed herself against them—something I was never able to do.

“I’m just taking my watch back,” she said in that slightly nasal, cloying voice that always seems to work with boys. “From my dad.”

“Don’t listen to her. It’s mine.” My own voice was taut with the pain from my ankle—and desperation. I refused to give up without a fight, even though I knew I should brace for a bitter disappointment.

Brielle looked down, the corners of her mouth drooping. “She’s always jealous of the few nice things I get from Daddy when she already has so much.”

Lies! But I knew better than to burst out in anger. “It’s mine, Liam. Can you give it to me, please?”

At the same time, she said, “Can you please let me keep it? Pretty please?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Okay.”

My mouth dried. She clutched him harder. “You’re the best!” she cooed.

He shook her off and walked toward me. “Here.” He cleared his throat. “Your watch.” He held it out to me.

Tears burned in my eyes. It was the first time since Mom had passed away that anybody had taken my side. “Thank you,” I managed hoarsely before taking the watch with a shaking hand.

Now a realization dawns. “Why are you nice to me?” I whisper. There’s no need for a list from Simon. The perfect candidate is standing right here. Liam meets all my criteria for a husband—except he’s too precious to be used in my plot.

“Why shouldn’t I be, Olivia?” He looks at me like he can’t fathom my confusion.

“You weren’t part of the plan.” You’re making it so hard for me to stay away.

“Like a life plan?”

“Something like that.”

His eyes darken, but he looks away before I can decipher what’s in them. He shrugs stiffly. “Don’t keep working on an unworkable plan. Pivot. Make yourself happy.” He presses his lips together like he’s trying to hold back all the things he wants to say.

“It isn’t that easy.”

“Sure it is. Start with this: Get rid of Tyler.”

“Then what?” I let out a shaky laugh. “I have to get married.” The moment the words are out of my mouth, I cover my eyes. I said too much. How to recover before—?

Liam takes my wrist and slowly lowers the hand over my eyes. His gaze is steady as he studies my face, like he can’t afford to miss even the flicker of an eyelash. “How about me?”

Chapter Seven

Liam

Olivia stares at me for a long time, her eyes and cheeks glazed with tears. Maybe she really does want to marry the bastard despite all the pain he’s brought her. Disappointment slides between my ribs and stabs into my heart, but I squelch it. This is about what she wants. At least she looks pretty with the white gardenias.

“No one’s given me flowers since Mom passed away,” she murmurs.