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“Look, Ethan, you’re a busy man. Sign the divorce papers and I’ll be on my way.”
“No.”
I blinked at him and he blinked back at me.
“No? You don’t get to just say no.”
“I do. I get to just say no.”
Ugh. I needed Henny to tell me what to do in this situation.
“Why?” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Because…you just got here. Because we got married and I know you don’t know me.” I thought I did. I really thought I did. “But I wouldn’t do that lightly.”
“It was the tequila.”
“There’s not enough tequila in the world to make me do something like this unless I wanted to.”
“So…you’re suggesting what? We stay married? You realize how insane that is, don’t you?”
“I do. But…I don’t want you to leave.”
“Well, hate to break it to you, but you don’t get to decide that.”
“I know,” he said, stepping closer, and I stepped back. “It’s your decision. Entirely your decision. But I have an idea…”
“That was how this whole thing started. You having an idea.”
He smiled at me, the dimple in full effect, and I’m not a brave woman or all that strong, but it took everything in me not to kiss him. That was the power of that smile.
“That was my assistant on the phone,” he said.
“City Council presidents have assistants?”
“We do…how do you know that? I didn’t have that job last year.”
“I did some research on you.”
On the plane to Denver I’d done a deep dive on my husband. And his family. He’d been elected City Council president pro tempore—whatever that meant—almost as soon as he got back from Vegas last year. There were some pictures of his whole family and the inn and farm over the years. Two happily married parents, three children, standing arm in arm in front of a big red barn.
They looked…fake. Like a family in a TV show. Not real. Not something a girl could trust.
‘”Then maybe you know that Christmas is the most important time of year for my family and in large part for the town. My brother, who despite being a Neanderthal, is a big deal and his being here is bringing more tourists than we even imagined.”
“Those guys in the face paint?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s probably great for you.”
“It is. But we need help. And you…you were amazing on the front desk.”
“I was a bathroom attendant at the Bellagio for a few weeks after high school.” I shrugged. “It’s like a crash course in difficult interactions.”
“Lexie…is there any way you would stay and work the front desk? Just for a little bit. Two weeks. Three tops.”
“I’m sorry. What, now?” Was I offended? It felt like offended. But mostly I was shocked. Talk about the last thing I expected. “You’re offering me a job?”
“It would be a huge help to my family. And we could get to know each other. Find out why we got married in the first place.”
“Tequila. I told you.”
“Maybe you’re right. Or maybe you’re wrong,” he said. “But aren’t you curious? Because I am. I am really curious.”
There was no reason for the word curious to sound so sexy. But it did coming out of his mouth, and his eyes dropped to my lips like he remembered how we kissed. How I tasted.
And he wanted another sample.
“It was just chemistry,” I whispered.
“Let’s find out,” he whispered back. “Three weeks. You could think of it as a vacation.”
“Vacation to the Arctic Circle. That’s not a thing.”
“Our tourism numbers would indicate that it is a thing.”
“I don’t think your father likes me.”
“My father is a teddy bear. And it’s not really my father you have to worry about, it’s my sister.”
“That’s not helping. What about your mom?”
“What about her?”
“Your father said ‘your mother’ as we walked in here. Like ‘your mother’ isn’t going to like this.”
“She died. Three years ago. And the rest of it is really not relevant.”
Oh, man, mother’s were always relevant. But I kept my mouth shut. If we were for-real married maybe I’d make him open up about that, but as things were currently, it was none of my business.
“We need this season to go smoothly. We need to make as much money as we can so we can save this place.”
“Save it?” That seemed desperate, and if there was one thing I understood it was desperate. Desperate was an old friend.
“My dad’s hurt and I’m supposed to take care of the front desk.”
“You suck at it.”
“I don’t actually—”
“But you do.”
“Fine, I do. But I have stuff to do for Salt Springs and you…Lexie, you were so good…” He stopped, shook his head. “Listen to me. I’m sorry. You must be so busy with the show and Christmas and your whole life. You don’t have time for this.”
“That’s actually not true.”
“What isn’t?”
“That I’m busy. The paid leave thing.”
“Well, if you would consider it, you would basically be saving Christmas for our family.” He said it like a joke but I felt his words in my belly.
