24. Declan

24

DECLAN

This is a bad idea.

I ran my hands through my hair as I sat on the top steps of Ashley’s house and waited for her to get home. I’d come to the conclusion that I was making poor decisions. That conclusion was not solely based on the fact that I was sitting on a dirty wooden slab, it was also because my behavior could be considered bordering on stalker territory.

Why had I admitted that she was the only one I wanted to marry? I’d shown all my cards. If I was bluffing, and it was a tactical move, that would be fine. But it wasn’t. The problem was that it was true, and admitting that was basically exposing my Achilles’ heel. She was my kryptonite. Not that she had any fucking clue. She clearly didn’t know the effect she had on me.

I had zero control when it came to Ashley Thompson. I said things, did things, thought things, and felt things that were reckless and totally out of character for me. As someone who suffered from OCPD, that scared the shit out of me.

Being married to the woman, even if it was only for ten weeks, could be my undoing. But now that the thought had come into my mind, I couldn’t imagine myself marrying anyone else, even if it was for a limited time and solely for the purpose of gaining control of my business. I was obsessing over it, which, again, I had OCPD to thank for.

Headlights shone on the dirt drive that led to the farmhouse. There was a house situated near the road on the property that belonged to Hank Comfort, the husband of Ashley’s sister Skylar. I was glad that she wasn’t out here alone. I didn’t like the idea of her being in such an isolated area.

My heart was pounding wildly in my chest as I stood and watched her car drive up the path. No one had ever made me nervous, but she did—from the first time I’d laid eyes on her in the bar. All I’d seen was her profile, and yet I’d known that there was something different about her.

I still couldn’t believe that Ashley was Carrie and Carrie was Ashley.

What were the odds that we’d both given each other false names?

There was something serendipitous about that. Or maybe I was just reading into it. I tried telling myself it was fate, but in reality, it was just two people trying to escape who they were for a night.

As her car pulled to a stop, my pulse raced, and I wondered just how mad she was going to be that I was here waiting for her at her home. She hadn’t been happy about me showing up at the movie premiere. To think that she was going to give me a ticker tape parade welcome was wishful thinking.

After leaving the drive-in, I’d made it all the way back to the estate but made a U-turn and ended up here. I needed her answer before flying back to Atlanta. I knew that there was no way I could sleep tonight, tomorrow night, or the night after if I didn’t have it. At the very least, I couldn’t leave things the way we had. I wanted to plead my case once more without an audience of cars around us.

She stepped out of the driver’s side, and her long red hair shimmered beneath the moonlight. Her fair skin had an angelic glow. Her ruby-red lips and huge blue eyes called to me like a lighthouse in the middle of a storm, which is what she was to me right now. My life felt like a storm, and she was the direction I was going for safety.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“I just want to talk.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. I could see the battle going on in her gorgeous head. She wanted to turn me away, to tell me to leave. But another part of her wanted to hear me out. I really hoped that part won.

With a resigned sigh, she acquiesced, “Fine.”

As she walked past me, her unique, fruity, fresh scent wafted through the air, and I closed my eyes as I breathed it in. She opened the door, and as we walked inside, a tabby cat met us with a loud meow. It did a figure eight between my legs, and its tail wrapped around my calf.

I bent down. “Hello, what’s your name?”

“Mr. Purrfect.”

“Hello, Mr. Purrfect.”

“He’s the only man who has never disappointed me,” Ashley stated pointedly.

Mr. Purrfect nuzzled his head into my palm, and I scratched him behind his ears before I stood back up and grabbed the sanitizer from my pocket. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Her shoulders lifted in a slight shrug before she crossed her arms in a defensive stance. “You said you wanted to talk.”

“You said you looked at the terms?”

“I did.”

“And?”

She shook her head. “This is crazy.”

“You were going to marry a total stranger on television.” I knew it was a touchy subject, but it was the best argument for my case.

“That’s different.”

“Why?”

“Because in that scenario, the person I would be marrying would be chosen by a professional matchmaker. We would be paired by compatible values, lifestyles, communication skills, and what we are looking for in a life partner.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you would marry someone who was good at lying and only going on television to get fifteen minutes of fame and boost their social media following. A person whose intentions you would always have to question. At least in this arrangement, you would always know the truth. I need a wife. I will pay off your student loans and credit cards. You can walk away from this in a much better position than you entered it. Can you say that for Married by a Matchmaker?”

I could see that she was entertaining the idea.

“Also, I’m going to fund your grant proposal.”

“What?” she breathed.

“I saw your grant proposal today when Gran was looking it over, and I’m going to fund it.”

Her eyes stared up at me with disbelief. “If I marry you, you are going to fund my program?”

This was it. I could see it in her eyes. This was my golden ticket. I knew all I had to do to get her to say yes was to say yes, and I could close the deal. But I couldn’t do that. I wasn’t going to hold her program hostage.

I’d inherited a sizable trust fund from my father. It made me a very wealthy man. Every year, I dedicated a generous amount of that money to charities. From what I’d read, her program would help many young people create a better future for themselves. If that wasn’t a worthy investment, I wasn’t sure what was.

“I’ll fund it either way.”

She blinked at me in total silence before her brow furrowed. “What? I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“Even if you don’t marry me, I’m still going to fund it,” I clarified.

“Why?”

“Because I want to.”

“Why?”

“Because I can.”

“So you’re going to fund my program for a year?”

“No.”

“I thought you just said?—”

“I’m going to fund it in perpetuity.”

“In perpetuity?”

“It means?—”

“I know what it means,” she cut me off. Her eyes searched mine, looking for answers I doubted she would find, mainly because I didn’t even have them. Finally, she inhaled a shaky breath. “So even if I don’t marry you, you’re going to fund my program forever.”

“Yes.”

“But you don’t even like me.”

“I told you, I do like you.”

“I know you said that today after you found out who I was, but your emails made it very clear that you were not my biggest fan.”

“It was never personal. You weren’t qualified for the job. You said the same thing yourself.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it again. I was sure she was going to argue with me, but just like ‘Carrie’ had in the hotel room, Ashley surprised me.

“If, and it’s a big if, there is no way I’m moving to Atlanta. My sister is about to have a baby.”

“Fine. I’m going to be gone anyway.”

Her brow furrowed, and if I wasn’t mistaken, I saw a flash of disappointment in her eyes. “You’re going to be gone? I thought you just got back.”

“I did, from overseas. But now I have to visit all of the Wolfe properties in Canada, Mexico, Hawaii, the West Coast, and the Midwest. I won’t be back until December 14th.”

“That was the Christmas party, right?”

I was happy to see that she had carefully looked over the terms. “Yes, that’s the only engagement you would be required to attend as my wife.”

“Fine, but if I agree to this, then I want to add my own term.”

The corners of my lips twitched at how adorable she looked negotiating, but I knew it irritated her when I thought she was cute, so I tried to keep them still. “Okay.”

“I’ll go to your Christmas party, but you have to be my date for my friend Daphne’s wedding. Not as my husband, if we do get fake married, I don’t want anyone in town to know. The gossip train would go off the rails. I would want you to go as my date . I’m tired of not having a date.”

It blew my mind that this woman didn’t have men lining up at her door begging to take her out. What the fuck was wrong with the men in this town? That thought actually made me want to make one thing absolutely clear.

“Agreed. There is one term that is non-negotiable, though.”

“That we don’t see other people?” she said as if reading my mind.

“Yes,” I confirmed. “When we’re married, you’re mine.”

A deep pink flush rose on her cheeks as her breaths became shallow. “If we did this. When, um, when would we get married?”

“Immediately.”

“Don’t you think people would wonder why we got divorced right after the ink dries on you getting the company?”

“I don’t care what people think. And we wouldn’t have to get divorced.” I wasn’t sure why I’d added that second part. I was trying to convince her to marry me for ten weeks, not scare her off by trying to get her to sign on for more.

“What?!”

“Gran showed me your audition tape for Married by a Matchmaker today. You said you always wanted to be married. I want to be married. There’s no reason why we couldn’t stay married.”

Stop talking. I told myself. I was good at negotiations. It had always been a strength of mine. I knew how to read people. I knew when to push for more and when to walk away. But suddenly, the thought of dissolving a marriage I couldn’t even get Ashley to agree to in the first place was not sitting well with me.

“Yes, there is. You don’t believe in love. I can’t be married to someone who doesn’t believe in love.”

“Who told you I don’t believe in love?”

“Your grandmother. She’s told me several times that you don’t believe in love. She hates that you don’t.”

I wasn’t thrilled with the thought of my grandmother having discussions about me with employees, although considering I’d slept with one, I probably didn’t have a leg to stand on.

“She’s mistaken. I’ve never said I don’t believe in love. I said that I don’t think marriage should be based on love. I think marriage is a commitment. An agreement. A partnership shouldn’t be based on a feeling. Feelings change. Feelings are fickle.”

“So you’re saying you would stay married to someone you weren’t in love with?”

“I’m saying I don’t think that love is a prerequisite for marriage.”

I could feel her slipping away. I knew that I was losing her, and that was making me panic even more.

“But I do think people who have love, real love, in a marriage are the lucky ones.” I wasn’t sure where that had come from. I’d never expressed sentiment to anyone, including myself.

“When you say immediately, how immediate?”

I didn’t want to give her time to second-guess her decision. If she was going to do this, I wanted to do it now. If not, I needed to know now. “Tomorrow.”

She took a deep breath. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine, I’ll marry you.”

Relief, unlike I’d ever felt before, washed over me. Happiness, unlike I’d ever felt before, followed quickly behind it. A wide smile spread across my face. I wanted to kiss her so badly, but I didn’t. Not on her lips. Instead, I leaned forward and kissed her on her forehead.

I could see how nervous she was about this. I wished that she was happier about what we were doing, but I promised myself that I would do everything in my power to make her happy. For the next ten weeks, I would be the best husband I could be to her. And if she wanted to walk away after that, even if it killed me to let her go, if that made her happy, I would be the best ex-husband, too.