"Well, Margot Robbie hadn't made her sexy yet, in your defense. You were working with what you had." I handed her my phone and unlocked it. "Put in the address of your hotel."
She did, and a comfortable silence descended on us until she handed my phone back. Quietly, she said, "I don't think this will fix things in the long-term."
"At the moment, your problems seem to be pretty short-term," I pointed out.
She groaned, letting her head fall back against the headrest. "I hate this."
"I mean, it's not great, but at least you won't have to write a prenup with Weenie Hut Jr. I think Sylvia might actually have her hand up that guy's ass—like a sock puppet."
She laughed, but then relenting, she sighed, "Yeah, probably." She rolled an eye squint my way. "You're still signing a prenup, Spencer. I don't trust you."
"Wow. After I rescued you and everything." I paused before asking, "So, you'll do it?"
"I don't have many other options," she said begrudgingly.
A yes was a yes. "I'm practically swooning," I drawled. We entered downtown Eugene, and I slowed to a crawl, taking in the festive lights that had already been strung up around Main Street. "Bee, in all seriousness, why didn't you ask for help?Knox is in your corner. I am, too, even if you do find me insufferable."
Arabella picked at her cuticles. "Just because you're helping me doesn't mean you get an all-access pass to my thoughts, Theo."
Touchy but true. "It's okay to be vulnerable with people who care about you."
"You care about me because you have to." Her voice was laced with a touch of hurt, and I wanted to argue that that wasn't true, but how would I go about saying that, exactly?"Actually, I've always wanted to trace the outline of your lips with mine, you mouthy wench, but I guess fake marrying you will have to do."
I cleared my throat instead. "It doesn't matter where the caring part comes from. I'm here for you, Bee."
She wasn't having it. Her mouth twisted, puckering with irritation, and she folded her arms tightly. "I don't need to justify myself to you just because my brother guilted you into helping me. Don't get me wrong; I'm grateful you're doing this. It might actually work. But that doesn't mean you get a say in what I do or how I feel."
I flicked on the blinker, making a slow turn into the parking lot of her hotel. "I agree, but if we're going to do this marriage thing, you need to trust me."
"Hm, pass." She turned away from me, staring out the window. "All I need from you is to show up the day of, sign the paper, and then pretend I don't exist. I can handle it from there."
I stopped under the large overhang, throwing the car in park, and scowling at her. "I'm trying tohelpyou. Will you just let me, for once? There's more to this than just showing up on our wedding day and signing papers. The deed to the ranch—"
She opened the car door suddenly, and with a thick voice, bit out, "Just be there. I'll find a way to make it up to you."
"Arabella," I gusted out, defeated.
She slammed the door closed, and without so much as a glance backward, she stalked through the sliding glass doors and into the hotel. Her shoulders were hunched and her pink head down.
I could have absolutely throttled her. I didn't know what had caused her to distrust literally everyone in her life, if it was her mother or something else, but there was no possible outcome there but loneliness and hardship.
Frustrated, I stared forward. Snow began to fall just beyond the well-lit overhang, drifting down in dark speckles against a blue night. A chill ran through me, but I didn't think it was the snowfall. My wintry fiancée really did have a heart made of ice, and I wasn't sure anything could melt through the layers of permafrost.
But fuck me, I was willing to try.
Chapter six
Arabella
"You're going to be late."
I stopped scraping at Jellybean's hoof long enough to glance at my cracked smartwatch. It read 9:34. "I've got time." I scratched at the gunky hoof with my hoof pick, looking for loose pebbles and debris. "I don't see anything. Might be the cold."
"Miss Rook," Jay said despairingly. "Your wedding is attwo. In Oregon."
Jellybean shifted, trying to jerk her hoof out from between my knees. Even in the barn, the morning was frigid and dry, permeating my work gloves and canvas coat easily. I couldn't blame her for being uncomfortable. She probably wanted to be back in her stall with her buddy Spree and a fresh mouthful of hay. But she'd been limping a little the last day or so, and if I didn't figure it out now, who knew what state she'd be in when I got back from Oregon?
From my wedding.
