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“That’s not really legal. You know that, right?” Maxon’s wife points out.
“It’s merely a business transaction.”
Okay, he’s not kidding.
“So is prostitution.”
“Keeley makes a good point,” Britta says softly. “I’m sure you’ll find someone special again someday. No one will replace Becca. She was your only girlfriend and your first love. It will take you time to recover and you’ll have to work through your grief before you can fall in love—”
“No. I don’t want love. I will simply offer someone young, socially adept, and mildly attractive the position as my wife in exchange for stability, fidelity, and financial security. A housekeeper and a cook can’t meet all my needs.”
“Can’t you hire a hooker for sex?” I stroll into the room with a frown, unable to stay out of this conversation.
He frowns my way. “I want children someday. For obvious reasons, a prostitute won’t serve my purposes. A surrogate won’t work, either, because I want my son or daughter to live with both a mother and a father. Rather than hire someone to help me navigate corporate galas and fundraisers that exhaust the introvert in me, as well as a cook, a housekeeper, a Girl Friday, and a hooker, I can simply buy a wife. It’s far more logical and cost effective.” Evan rises to his feet. “Hello, Harlow.”
I swallow as Keeley and Britta both stand and head for the study door, shaking their heads.
“Well, good luck with that plan,” Maxon’s redhead says in a tone that more than conveys she thinks he’s being a dumb ass.
“The right candidate is out there,” he assures me. “Not every woman marries for romantic reasons.”
Britta gives him a tightly polite smile. “Let us know if you need anything else.”
Griff’s wife doesn’t know what to say, and I don’t blame her. I’m kind of at a loss for words, too.
“Thank you for your hospitality.” My half brother nods.
“And before I forget, thank you for the music, Keeley,” I say softly.
Her face brightens. “Did it help?”
“Actually…yeah.” I smile, and she claps her hands with a little squeal of delight.
After the women back out of the room, I hug Evan awkwardly before we both take our seats.
“How would your late wife feel about you hiring someone to take her place?” I challenge.
“Becca understood me as no one else ever has or ever will. I loved her with my entire heart, and I buried my soul with her and our unborn child. But Fate or God or whatever you believe in has decreed that I should keep living. I’m having trouble doing that,” he admits.
“It may take more than a month to adjust. It must be a terrible shock and—”
“Unimaginable. Becca was my rock, my crutch…my sun. But I have to be practical. I work fifteen hours a day, often seven days a week. I don’t have time to grocery shop or cook or pay my bills. I can’t run errands, drop off dry cleaning, deal with the tax assessor. I don’t function well at parties where I need to be charming. And while I don’t have the time or inclination for romance, that fact has done nothing to mitigate my sex drive. After dissecting the problem, I came to the logical conclusion that I need a wife who understands what our relationship is…and isn’t.”
Before Noah, I would have completely understood his point of view. If his prospective bride came into the marriage with all the facts and her eyes wide open, the arrangement would have made total sense to me. In fact, I probably would have applauded Evan for his out-of-the-box thinking.
But not anymore. Now, I’m horrified.
And that should tell me something about how connected I am to my heart.
“You don’t ever want love again?”
He drags in a deep breath. “Would I like it? Very much. But I’ve loved deeply and totally. I believe it’s something we’re only entitled to once in our lives and only if we’re very lucky. Though Becca was taken from me too soon, I had my chance. I won’t have another, so my heart is now closed. Would it be better to marry someone on a pretense?”
“No, but I don’t think you should shut yourself off to the possibility that—”
“It’s not possible.” He raises a dark brow, and I’m struck by how much he looks like a Reed, like a younger blend of Maxon and Griff. He acts like one, too. His bravado hides a pain he doesn’t want to show and I can’t really fathom. “I could ask you the same question. In fact, that’s why I came here tonight. I heard you left Noah and your sisters-in-law told me a bit about why. I have to say, I’m shocked.”
“Well, join the club. Griff said roughly the same thing. Maxon just asked me if I’d lost my damn mind.”
