Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Tate’s words echo through my brain like a recording that won’t stop playing. He bet his brother and is donating the money …
An idea—a dangerous, wild idea, pops up in my mind. It’s risky and silly, but it might just work.
I flip my gaze to Jason and find him watching me.
He did ask if he could help …
“So you’re going to pay the money one way or the other, right?” I ask, gripping the chair. “One of you is paying the other.”
“Right,” Tate says.
I don’t look away from Jason. “And what defines a charity?”
“I don’t know. A charity is a charity.”
My eyes flutter closed briefly as I try to talk myself out of this. I need to stop talking, go back to my office, and get ahold of myself. But as my eyes open again, I’m reminded of finding Mimi this morning on the bathroom floor in tears …
“What if you win, Tate, and decide you want Jason to donate his winnings to someone you meet on the street?” I ask carefully. “Would Jason have to give them the money?”
Tate shrugs. “If that person needed it, I don’t see why not. The idea is to help others.”
You could help me …
My breathing becomes ragged as I seriously consider the thoughts running through my head. I’m thinking under duress, and I know that. But it also seems like it might work.
I need money.
Jason wants to help.
I’m under no illusion that this will result in a fairy-tale ending—neither of us wants to be married—so what can it hurt? I’ll happily sign whatever pre-nuptial agreement Jason wants to guarantee that I won’t ask for more than half the winnings.
Jason gets to beat Tate. I get to keep Mimi from a nursing home and myself from living in my car.
I gulp as my body temperature rises.
And, if we’re married, would it be all that wrong to fuck my husband?
I look up at Jason and find his eyes heated.
Six months. It’s only six months.
Oh my God. Am I crazy?
My chest aches from the stress, but my heart races because there’s hope. And if I’m anything, I’m hopeful.
Screw it. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
“Tate, I have bad news,” I say, grinning. “You’re about to lose that bet.”
Jason is puzzled. Tate flinches.
“What are you talking about?” Tate asks.
I take a deep breath and turn to Jason. “We’re getting married.”
Chapter 11
Chloe
“What?” Tate and Jason say in unison.
They watch me with a mixture of amusement and confusion. When I fail to laugh or crack a joke—and probably from the determined yet frenzied look in my eyes—their reactions shift.
Tate’s amusement grows. Jason’s confusion deepens.
My awareness of the situation heightens, and my hands begin to shake.
“I’m sorry,” Tate says, his words kissed with a laugh. “I thought you just said you were marrying Jason.”
It’s now or never.
I lift my chin. “Because I am.”
Tate nods, disbelief written all over his face.
“What are you talking about, Chloe?” Jason asks carefully.
“You’re marrying me.”
He’s as surprised as I am to hear those words come from my lips in a sentence about us. But I’ve said them—they’re out in the world. And I can’t deny that, aside from the tightness in my chest from my nerves, this doesn’t feel like a bad idea. It’s a bit of a relief, really.
And that might be the scariest part of all.
Jason narrows his eyes, searching mine for an answer to an unasked question.
“What’s going on here?” Tate asks, picking up on the tension between his brother and me.
“I’d like to know that myself,” Jason says.
I swallow. “I don’t know how much clearer I need to be, but Jason and I are getting married.” I turn to Tate. “Six months, right? From the date of the wedding, I’m assuming.”
For the first time since I’ve known him, Tate is speechless.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” I turn back to Jason. “Marry me. I’ll be the best wife ever—even though I’m unsure how to be a wife because I’ve never wanted to be one. But I’ll take a course or read a book or watch a bunch of romantic comedies that I usually stay away from like the plague because those happy endings are bullshit. But I can pretend,” I add quickly. “I will. I’ll do anything. I—”
“Whoa, wait a minute.” Tate holds his hands up and takes a few steps my way. “Are you fucking serious?”
I gulp, sweat dampening the back of my neck. “Yes.”
He looks at Jason. “You’re marrying her?”
“I … don’t know what’s happening here,” Jason says, eyeing me. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head or something?”
I groan loudly enough to snap them both out of shock. “Tate, if Jason gets married and stays married for six months, you’ll pay him one hundred thousand dollars, which is completely ridiculous, but who am I to judge? Right? Rich people play rich people games, I guess. But that’s the way this bet works?”