Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Baylor takes my hand, keeping his eyes ahead as his thoughts seem to hoard his attention. The silence stretching between us hasn’t made it uncomfortable, but I’m starting to miss the sound of his voice. I grin at the ridiculousness of that. We were just talking not five minutes ago at the pizza place. I think I would be officially classified as an addict to this man.
I squeeze his hand, needing a fix, which brings his gaze back to me. He grins that same one I was greeted with upon arrival, like the world can start spinning again, making me fall even harder for him.
He asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”
I’ve been too nervous to broach the idea again even though it’s mine to begin with. Getting food in my stomach has helped. My thoughts feel clearer, and I don’t know, less worried about how this will end. He’s giving me that comfort to speak freely. “I’d like to.”
“You don’t need to be worried. Whatever is decided, things will work out. You’re not losing the shop.”
I stop walking. He stops and turns to look back with our arms stretched between us. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I won’t let you lose it.” I’m granted a smile that tries to reach his eyes but fails just shy of its target. “I have money, Lauralee.”
I know he has money, and if the rumors are right, a lot of it. Would he give me a loan with interest . . . better interest than the bank, so I can actually afford the rent? I have no doubt. Should I accept it? “I can’t take your money. There’s no way I’d ever feel right about that, especially on such a risky investment.” I step closer, resting my hand on his chest. “This arrangement needs to benefit both of us.”
The warmth of his smile keeps me calm, knowing I’ve got an ally. “Since I know you, I’m assuming you already have a plan. You want to lay it out for me?”
I laugh because he really does know me well. “So,” I start, happy to get into the details. “We leave for the Hamptons on Saturday. Since I was already playing the lead role of the lady in your life, I was thinking . . . Well, you said your bosses have this family values image they want to uphold.”
“I think project works better knowing their history of philandering.”
I cringe. “Yikes.”
“Yikes is right. That’s why the suggestion that my being single doesn’t look good for the company is preposterous.”
I can’t say this makes me want to meet them now. But a free vacay to the Hamptons is worth it because I’ll be with Baylor. “What if I come as your wife?” I stare at his eyes as his gaze shifts to the left of me, his thoughts darkening the blues. I continue by saying, “I know this is an off-the-wall plan. It doesn’t have to stick, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention it as an option to help both of us out of our predicaments. You can get your promotion. I get my shop. Life is perfect again.”
Angling his head, he asks, “You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?”
I’m not sure if it’s rhetorical, though, as he processes the plan. “Day and night. I can barely sleep.”
“It’s a different approach.” He pauses as if expecting me to interrupt. For once, we’re on the same page, so I stay quiet. “Is getting married what you really want?”
His emphasis on want isn’t lost on me. I shift my weight and my gaze for a moment but decide that won’t do. Standing straight up, I lock my eyes on his, which temper on contact. “I don’t have many options, Baylor. It’s just a wedding. It’s worth it to save the shop.” Holding out my free hand, I try to express myself better. “And if you can benefit, it feels like a win-win.”
“It’s not just about the day. You’d be married to me. Legally,” he stresses the ending. “Wouldn’t it just be easier to take my money?”
The thing is, being legally bound to him doesn’t scare me. Maybe it should, but I won’t hesitate to marry him if we both get what we want. “I’ve come to terms with the sacrifice we’ll be making. I’ll be taking away both of our firsts—wedding, marriage, and—”
“Honeymoon?”
That sure perked him up. “I hadn’t gotten that far in the plan, but sure,” I say, with a laugh and pop of my shoulders. “If you’d like that, I’m always up for a vacation.” We start walking again. Considering how fast New Yorkers hustle, we’re probably clocking more of a snail’s pace, but I don’t mind. I like holding hands with him in public.
As we cover another block, I’ve overlooked something important. His input. This isn’t just for me, though I feel like a used car salesperson trying to close a deal. What he thinks matters to me. “I don’t know if you’re genuinely considering it, but if you are, how do you think we handle it?”