“Eh, hem,” Ashley said, holding up his phone, shaking it pointedly, before handing it back to him. “What do you think we’re discussing?”
“Oh,” he hesitated, his eyes widening in comprehension as he stepped back away from her… and it clicked in Ashley’s mind. She was talking herself out of a free mode of transportation in exchange for slapping her name on a piece of paper for ninety days.
“I’ll do it,” she whispered quickly – feeling desperate – and saw his stunned gaze surge upward, meeting her eyes once more. The relief in his expression was palpable. His shoulders sagged, and his whole tense expression melted as he grasped her hand, pumping it several times, shaking it like they were finalizing a deal. “Now what?”
“What are you doing when you land in Quebec? Do you have another flight to catch? How long are you in town for?” Liam asked, his voice trembling. “We should probably exchange information.”
“I live outside of Quebec City,” Ashley began and saw him hesitate – before he smiled, his eyes lighting up. “I’m off of work for a few days, and then I’ve got a few flights scheduled.”
“Perfect. When the plane lands, could we hurry to a justice of the peace or a chapel, get a marriage license, and then go pick out your vehicle? – Or do you want to get your car first?”
He wasn’t kidding, she realized in disbelief.
This man, thishandsomeman, was basically offering up his bank account to her in exchange for a piece of paper. He was talking about money like it meant nothing to him, and she was waiting on her next paycheck every single month. Being married to him for a few months would give her a chance to get on her feet, would give her someone to watch over the house when she was gone, and if they became friends – that would just be a bonus.
“Do you have a place to live yet?” she asked, shocked at her own boldness. If he stayed with her, she could get to know him a little better and make sure he wasn’t about to royally screw her over with some lawsuit or something.
“I was supposed to sign the papers on a condo in Quebec, but…”
“If we’re married, I’ve got a small place that has two beds.”
“Done,” he whispered gratefully. “If that’s okay with you?”
“I could use the company,” she admitted. “Keeping up a house is tough sometimes when you are alone and gone fifty percent of the time.”
“You need help with the house,” he nodded in understanding. “I could do that. I have hockey practice several times a week – and I would try not to interfere in your life too much.”
“Same,” she whispered, looking at him. “So we would pretend to be married and go to a few events?”
“We would be married on paper and pretend we’re a happy couple in public,” he affirmed, looking nervous as he swallowed. His Adam’s apple bobbed as his eyes looked at her, wary. “I promise I will treat you like a queen while you help me out.”
Dang,Ashley thought in disbelief;what would it be like to be treated like a queen by someone?Her last boyfriend had dumped her, claiming she was high maintenance and that it was difficult to keep up with her schedule – but this guy?
This guy in front of her just wanted her name on a piece of paper, and he was willing to hand over everything in exchange for it.
“This job means a lot to you, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” he admitted quietly. “I need to prove that I can do this on my own, without my agent or anyone sabotaging me or holding me back.”
“And it’s worth that much to you?”
“More, if you want to know the truth,” he admitted painfully, giving her a nervous look. “I’m a nice guy – but sometimes I set myself up for others to take advantage of me. If you are going to do that, don’t hide it or go around me. I could probably forgive anything but deception or lies, which is why I’m telling you everything.”
Ashley nodded, swallowing guiltily. She felt like she was taking advantage of him already, but telling him about her schedule, the house, needing the car, had already been put out there between them. There wasn’t much more to share, and there was everything.
They were strangers.
He was basically bribing her to marry him, and in turn, she was accepting it and using it to get her own rear-end out of a mess.
“No lies,” she whispered, still holding his hand. “No secrets, and we talk about everything so we can become friends. Ninety days, we’ll fake it, fake being married, and then both come to the table to discuss what we do next – whether it’s an annulment, a divorce, keep going like we are, or what.”
“Thank you,” he whispered thickly. “Thank you so much, Ashley.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she mumbled nervously. “I’m gonna use you like you are my own personal gardener, my soon-to-be husband.”
“Then I want you to pick out the nicest car you can find,” he chuckled, sharing her same warily optimistic look. “My soon-to-be wife.”
“You should go sit down,” she invited nervously. “Don’t get off the plane when we land. We’ll walk out together.”
