AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Bea was here.
This did not bode well for me.
While Bea and Ronnie hugged, Bea looked right at me. Her eyes met mine in a you are a motherfucking asshole death glare.
I nodded at her, because I deserved some death glares, but I wasn’t running.
In fact, I pulled two mugs down from the cupboard. I put milk and sugar in one of them, filled it with coffee, and set it down beside Ronnie, then poured myself a cup. Over the rim of the mug I lifted my eyebrows at Bea, who only glared a little harder.
“When did you get in?” Ronnie sat down beside Bea.
“Last night.”
“I didn’t hear you.”
“It was late.”
“Is…everything okay?” Ronnie asked. “The police—”
“It’s fine,” Bea said. “Why don’t we talk about that later? Instead, you tell me what the hell is going on here.”
“Nothing,” Ronnie said and took a deep sip of coffee. Bea shot her an incredulous look and then glared again at me.
“You’re the fox in the hen house, Clayton. In case you didn’t notice.”
“I mean you hens no harm.”
“Yeah, excuse me if I don’t believe you.” Bea was bristly with outrage and pure dislike for me.
“It’s okay,” Ronnie said. “We’re…figuring things out.”
“Really?” Bea asked. “Because something tells me Clayton’s already got everything figured out.”
At the moment, my body and brain disjointed from pleasure, those words felt nothing like the truth. But I understood her suspicion. That didn’t mean I liked it.
Or planned on taking it.
“Your sister has agreed to marry me.”
The silence fell so thick and so fast it was like I’d suddenly lost my hearing.
“You’re kidding.”
“Bea—” Ronnie said and Bea turned on her.
“Tell me he’s kidding!”
“He’s not…”
Ronnie glared at me for one second and then looked back at her sister.
“We’re taking things slow.”
“We’ve set the wedding date for the day after the deadline for your brother to arrive,” I said.
“Ronnie!” Bea cried.
“It’s not…like that,” she said. “Clayton will you stop?”
“Tell me you’re not really thinking about marrying this guy.”
“She is,” I answered. “She wrote up the contract herself.”
“Stop it!” Ronnie snapped at me. “I will answer her questions. You have done enough.”
I leaned back against the counter and sipped my coffee, admiring Ronnie’s backbone.
“Clayton has proposed,” Ronnie said, slowly and carefully, as if defusing a bomb. “And we’ve come to an agreement.”
“An agreement!” Bea cried. “How romantic.”
“Romantic has nothing to do with this,” Ronnie said.
“Last night was pretty romantic,” I said. “And this morning.”
Ronnie glared at me, her face ruby red. “Stop.”
“Stopping.”
“You and Sabrina,” Ronnie said to Bea, “haven’t left me a lot of choices. And what he’s offering me will take care of you. Both of you forever. The house and land stays in our name. And I get the foundation back.”
“What’s in this for you?” Bea snapped at me.
“What I’ve always wanted. Your sister as my wife.”
Bea narrowed her eyes and shook her head at me.
“And the land?” Bea asked.
“What land?” Ronnie asked. She’d already forgotten.
“The land I’m buying from you,” I reminded her.
“He’s paying double what it’s worth.” Ronnie said.
“Oh.” Bea laughed. “Then it must be love. Do you love him, Ronnie?”
It was my own fucking fault for waiting for her answer. But I survived that moment of silence. She didn’t love me and I knew that.
But it was still gutting.
I put my mug down on the counter and faced Bea.
“I will care for your sister. And for you. What your sister feels for me is her business.”
“What do you feel for her?” Bea asked.
“Bea—” Ronnie whispered.
“No. I want to know.” Bea got up from her chair. “Tell me, Clayton. What do you feel for my sister?”
“What I have always felt for her.”
Bea looked over at Ronnie. “Is that…enough for you?” she asked Ronnie. “Don’t you think you deserve more? Because I do.”
Ronnie was dimmed, all that light in her gone, and she was doing her very best not to look at me. This was not the time for a fight. At least, not the fight Bea was looking for.
I drained my coffee cup and walked around the counter to kiss Ronnie’s forehead. “I’ll call you later.”
“Okay,” she said and slipped her arm around my waist. It was lame, but I wasn’t about to be picky.
My trench coat was hanging over the banister of the stairs. I snagged it when I walked by and fished my keys out of the pocket.
On my way to my car, through the bright-new-day sunlight, I heard pounding feet behind me and I turned, my heart holding out hope for Ronnie. But it was Bea.
She stopped a few feet from me.
“You’re not fooling me,” she said.
“I’m not trying to.”
“My brother will come back.”
“That seems unlikely.”
“My brother will come back and he’ll put an end to this. He’ll claim the estate and take everything. And if he doesn’t, I’ll find the proof I need to convince my sister that you don’t love her. That you never loved her.”
