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Hell if he knew what to do with that.
“You.” She said the word with finality.
“Me what?” he asked, the question loud in the cab of the SUV.
“You are the only man who would be discreet, go along with my plan and, provided you don’t already have a girlfriend, fiancée or wife—”
“You think I have a wife?” There was a crazy idea. Even crazier was the idea that Stefanie would be that wife. He reached for his cup of gas station coffee, wincing when the mouthful was cold instead of hot.
“There’s a seventy-two-hour waiting period, so we have to apply for the license today. Then we can be married on Christmas Eve after my...um... After I visit my friends.”
“Forget it.” He put the SUV in Reverse to wiggle from the parking space when her hand—and cold, delicate fingers—brushed his.
Her touch was foreign, as most touches were to him, yet familiar in a way he couldn’t understand. Maybe because he’d known her for so long. Other than her mother, Eleanor Ferguson, Stefanie had been the only constant woman in his life since he was a very small boy.
“I’ve worked out everything. All you have to do is agree and smile for the camera so I can leak a few photos to social media. That’s it. Two little things.”
“Little?” His incredulous laugh cracked the air. “You’re suggesting we get married, Stef. There’s nothing little about that ask.”
“The end game is to screw over Blake and save Chase’s campaign. It’s noble. You’d be doing your civic duty.”
“There’s got to be another way.”
It was nuts. He couldn’t consider this.
So why was he?
“Well. I guess I could pay someone to marry me.”
“Absolutely not.”
Anger filled him to the brim at the idea she’d sell herself to the highest bidder. And what goon from her dating past would be the lucky lotto winner? The idea of Stefanie being taken advantage of again made his blood pressure climb to dangerous levels.
“Listen. It’s a surefire plan. This is the ultimate undo button for me. Haven’t you ever wanted to go back in time and stop a tragedy from happening?”
Her pulled-up blond hair revealed a sweet face silhouetted by the cheesy town holiday decorations and winking lights in every window of city hall. Hell yes, he’d wanted to go back in time. He’d fantasized about going back for a huge “undo” for most of his childhood life.
“Yes,” he answered honestly. She beamed, but that grin was erased when he spoke again. “Then I grew up and learned that what’s done is done. There is no going back. There is no undo button on tragedy.”
She squeezed his fingers as if apologizing for the tragic evening that changed his and his father’s lives forever. She had no idea what had happened to him and his family—no one did. Save Chase, but Emmett had sworn his best friend to secrecy.
“Help me, Emmett. I’m begging.” Against his will, the plea in her eyes took root in his chest. “You know it’s serious if I have to beg. If there were anyone else, I’d ask them. But there’s only you.”
The sentiment was strange to hear in any context, especially in one where he was being proposed to, but it didn’t stop him from reconsidering.
“I’m not going in there,” he said. Stefanie’s shoulders slumped in defeat before he added, “Until you explain every last detail of how this will work.”
Thirty minutes later Stefanie walked out of city hall with her fiancé.
Her big, brawny, silent, scowling fiancé.
“There.” She pointed across the street at a jeweler and marched over as soon as there was a break in traffic. She was a woman on a mission.
A cheery bell jingled as she pushed open the door of the jewelry store. Emmett did a neat jog to catch up and join her, but his expression remained as unreadable as it had when they’d applied for their marriage license.
It was so simple it was sort of unbelievable. It was like they’d let anyone get married these days.
“Hello.” A saleslady scanned her new customers, ring-laden fingers clasped at her front. “What can I help you find today?”
