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Reilly bends over, holding his stomach. He’s laughing so hard that his sandwich falls to the floor. He looks up at me, chuckling, but the smile quickly wipes off his face when he sees I’m not joking.
“Oh wait, you’re serious. I’m not trying to be a jackass, but you’re not the marrying type, Nix.” He’s not telling me anything I don’t know.
“It’s my only option,” I say with a growl.
His brows pull together. “Got a girl lined up ready to marry your asshole self for your money?”
“Actually…” I let the words linger as I think it over. His words just gave me an idea. I don’t want to marry some posh bimbo who only hangs around so she can buy the latest designer clothes and annoy the fuck out of me to get attention.
But I do know a sassy, green-eyed girl who doesn’t care how much money I have, yet needs it anyway. She already seems to hate me, so it’s essentially like we’re already married. Plus, she’s someone my dad would never have approved of, which is a bonus and a big ‘fuck you’ to him.
“I have someone in mind.”
Now I just have to convince the girl who wants nothing to do with me to marry me.
“Who?”
“Is Rush around?”
“I think he’s in the security room. But you didn’t answer my question. Who?”
Turning on my heels, I ignore Reilly once again as I hunt down the best security guy and bodyguard I could ask for. I can hear Reilly’s frustrated sigh as I leave the kitchen, but I don’t give a shit. He’ll get over it.
This is the first time in my life I’m going to have to ask a woman for anything. Hell, I’ve never even had to ask for a blow job—girls around here give them out like they’re candy.
I need Rush to find out everything he can about my future wife.
