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"I'm going back to bed," I say weakly.
"No can do." Zayne snags me around the waist before I can make an escape. "Unless you intend to drag everyone down to the courthouse, you've got a weddin' to plan."
"What?" I gape at him. "You aren't serious." Except…I can already tell that he's completely serious. This crazy man fully intends to marry me immediately.
I glance at Gran and Bets, just to find them beaming at us. They're fully on board with this plan.
"How did I become the lone voice of reason in this house?" I mumble up at the ceiling.
"Because you're dramatic, dear," Gran says. "Just tell the boy yes and get on with it already."
"You're supposed to talk me out of rushing into things."
"I'm eighty, Emmaline. The only way to do things at my age is in a hurry. Otherwise, you're liable to wake up dead."
"You can't wake up dead, Gran."
"Oh? Are you an expert then?"
Zayne chuckles.
"Don't encourage her."
"She has a point," he says with a shrug.
"You're only agreeing with her because she's taking your side."
"Maybe, but that doesn't negate the fact that she has a point." He smirks at me. "Stop overthinking and start plannin' your dream wedding, lamb. My rules, remember?"
"Your rules didn't say anything about me marrying you, Zayne Carmichael!"
"It was in the fine print."
"You always read the fine print, girl," Bets cackles.
"Are you really going to fight me on this, baby girl? We both know you want it as much as I do," Zayne murmurs. "You wouldn't have let me lie my way through your front door if you didn't."
I cast a furtive glance at Gran and Bets.
"We're old, not stupid, Emmaline. The only thing that boy is protecting you from is anyone trying to steal you out from under him."
"At least I don't have to worry about either of you trying to buy a gun to protect the house," I mutter, relieved we're not pretending anymore. I don't think either of us was very good at it. But we were both willing to do it anyway. Maybe Gran and Bets aren't the only crazy ones in this room.
"Why in the world would I need to buy a gun?" Gran asks. "I already have one in the closet."
"You don't," I groan.
"Of course, I do. You think the only thing your grandpa left me was money?" She tsks at me, her poufy hair bouncing with the force of her head shake. "You should know better than that, Emmaline. Really."
"Do you know how to shoot it?" Zayne asks, finally worried about something. It's about time! I mean, honestly.
"Not a clue," Gran says cheerfully. "But I've got a box of bullets and know where to put them. I also know where the business end of the thing is located. I can figure it out from there."
Zayne pales slightly. "Maybe I should hold onto the gun."
Gran shrugs like it doesn't matter one way or another who has the gun so long as it shoots.
"Are we planning this wedding or not?" Bets wants to know.
