Dance Away with Me(62)

“You realize that tomorrow morning when they show up—if they show up—you have to tell them the truth.”

“They will show up!” she exclaimed. “They have to.”

He was unrelenting. “You have to tell them you fabricated this whole marriage thing.”

She sank onto the surviving picnic bench and studied the crumbling brick by her feet. She poked at it with her toes. “Would it be so awful?” she said quietly. “Getting married?”

“Are you serious?” Leaves pulverized beneath his boots as he stomped toward her. “You don’t believe for a moment that I’ll go along with your insanity, do you?”

“Maybe.” She looked up at him. “All you need to do is tell them we’re getting married. After that, we can stall them.”

“They intend to be part of Wren’s life! Exactly how long do you think that would work?”

She braced her hands on her thighs and started talking faster, words tumbling over one another, trying to work it out as she spoke. “Let’s say we have to get married. What’s the big deal? What does marriage even mean anymore? Especially to the two of us. Who really cares, other than the Dennings? We’re good at staying out of each other’s way, and it’s not like we’d live together. You could have your precious solitude, and I— Well, I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do, but it won’t be with you. I’ll sign any kind of prenup you want to protect that money you don’t care about. It won’t make any difference!”

“I want to draw you, not marry you!”

She blinked. “If we’re married, you’d be able to draw me whenever you want. It’s— It’s a package deal.”

“I’m not buying.” He turned away.

She came to her feet. As insane as this was, she couldn’t give up. “Have you ever read about these incredible people who make grand gestures? Gestures that change lives forever? Like . . . donating a kidney. Or building a school. Or . . . lifting a car off somebody. That’s what this would be. Your grand gesture.”

He spun on her. “You need a kidney? I’ll think about it. But I am not marrying you.”

She dug her fingernails into her palms. “You’d have to do so little, and it would make all the difference in her life.”

“You call getting married ‘so little’?”

“Don’t you want to keep her? Even a little bit?”

“That has nothing to do with it.”

“It has everything to do with it! And marriage to me wouldn’t be nearly as terrible as you think.” Even she didn’t believe that, so she tried to convince them both. “We’re kind of friends, if you define a friend as someone you can be yourself with. Someone you don’t need to impress or hide your flaws from. We’ve pretty much seen the worst of each other. At least I hope it’s your worst, because you’ve seen mine. And any day now, Wren and I’ll move down here to the cabin. You’d barely know we were around. Don’t you see? Nothing would change.”

“Except I’d be married, something that was never part of my life plan.”

“Only until the ink is dry on the paperwork. When I know for sure that she’s mine forever—we can split.” She searched for something—anything—that would convince him. “Until then . . . you could have as much sex as you want.”

One of those dark eyebrows shot up. “You mean you could have as much sex as you want.”

“Tomato. To-mah-to.” She rushed on. “It’s only fair to tell you . . . I—” She swallowed. “I’m well trained in the art of seduction.” Much better trained than she wanted to be.

“You sound like an eighteenth-century courtesan.”

“But with better hygiene.” Although she wasn’t entirely certain she’d brushed her teeth that morning. “Of course, I’ll need to know you aren’t carrying around any STDs. Because I’m not.”

“Neither am I, and this is crazy.” He plowed his hand through his hair.

Was she finally wearing him down? Her exhausted heart raced. What could she say that would seal the deal? She licked her lips. “How about a test run?”

“A . . . ?”

Her dreams of being seduced vanished, but this was about Wren, not about sex. “A test run. On the condition that you’ll seriously consider this?”

His silence was worse than a dismissal. He picked up her Bluetooth speaker and examined it, as if he were inspecting for design flaws. Finally he looked up at her. “Here’s a counteroffer. Pose for me tonight. Nude.”

She swallowed. “If I agree, will you tell them we’re planning to get married? Just planning?”

“No.”

“Then I won’t do it.”

He transferred the speaker from one hand to the other. “How about I agree not to tell them you’re lying through your teeth. But—”

“I accept,” she said quickly.

“But . . . Only if they don’t ask me directly. Unlike you, I’m not going to lie.”

It wasn’t what she wanted, but it was better than nothing. “Deal. Now please leave so I can cry in peace.”

He couldn’t get away fast enough.