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My chest tightens. “Careful, sailor. You can make a girl fall madly in love with you by saying stuff like that.”
“That’s my goal, entirely.”
I sit up in bed, reaching for the robe to cover my breasts. Torben looks so put upon by this that I almost laugh.
“I thought this was just a date.”
“Let me make this very clear,” Torben says, sitting up with me. “I came to America to meet my bride. I found you. You are the one that I want.”
What the actual fuck? This is crazy! A part of me wants to deny that any of this is real. And yet, the part of me that’s been ready for a husband and a family wants to believe it’s true.
It’s happening so fast. Too fast? I don’t know.
I swallow. “So, this is not simply a good time before you move on to someplace better?”
“Hailey. Where can I go that’s better if you’re not there?”
I’m just going to let that sink in and enjoy it.
Soon enough, I’ll worry about how fast we’re throwing the L word around. And the marriage word. And all of the really big, important words.
This is all getting so serious so fast.
He traveled all this way to this vast, diverse country with huge cities populated by rich, interesting, educated, successful, and connected women.
And he’s choosing me.
The first woman he meets.
“Okay,” I say, smiling tremulously. “I guess you’re gonna meet my family.”
“Perfect,” he says, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. “I’ll order a ride to Jigsaw to fetch the car whenever you’re ready.”
How can he be so calm? And why do I feel like this is too good to be true?
There’s one surefire way to find out if it is too good to be true.
He’s going to meet my family.
* * *
“This you?”
Toad stands in the open door of the fridge, holding up a bottle of Reckless Royals. Torben stares back at his silhouette printed on the label that shouts out in gaudy print: Favored Prince IPA.
The prince clears his throat. “Yes. That…that would be me. At 18, of course. Not currently. I’ve aged and gotten more jowly, as you can see.” Torben waves a hand over the lower part of his face.
I laugh because it has to be a joke. If the prince’s chin were firmer, he’d need a weapons permit to carry it around.
Toad sniffs at the prince’s attempt at humor, then lifts the bottle to his lips. My brother squints at Torben like a homicide detective.
“What are your intentions with my sister?”
I roll my eyes. “Really?”
Torben rests a settling hand on my forearm. “It’s alright, Hailey.”
He turns back to Toad. “My intention is to be the man your sister deserves. My purpose in life is to be a husband and father and the man Hailey wants to marry.”
