Be My Bride (Make It Marriage Book 8)

by Nia Arthurs

  “Sorry. Her information’s back at the agency and even if I had her number, I can’t just give it to you. That’s against company policy.”

  “Whatever,” I grumble.

  “See you later. Make sure I don’t have to go around looking for you.”

  Click.

  So damn feisty.

  I tuck the phone back into my pocket and head to the dining room. Long chandeliers dangle from the ceiling. Red walls and heavy drapery add a Victorian feel to the giant space.

  People from all over the world recline in comfortable booths or line the fancy buffet. Forks clatter over china. Beneath the clank of metal, quiet jazz plays.

  I’m just about to lose my flipping mind when I spot Asia and Spring Bean in the line of customers waiting to enter the dining room.

  Relief seeps through me. Followed by annoyance.

  I’m glad they decided to stay in the hotel because it made it easier to find her, but the bastard didn’t have the decency to take her somewhere she could sit comfortably.

  My eyes trail Asia’s long legs as she squirms in line, one arm wrapped around her stomach and the other clinging to the strap of her purse. The air-conditioning is dialed to ‘Antartica’ and she’s shivering in that short dress.

  Every so often, someone will glance in her direction and whisper about her.

  Asia tosses her head up and pretends she doesn’t notice, but I can tell that she’s affected by it. Her bottom lip is being tortured by her top teeth right now.

  The men in the room have no problem with the skin she’s showing, but women are moving their children away and sending her dark glares, probably wondering why she's dressed for the club at breakfast.

  String Bean does nothing to make her feel comfortable. Despite the fact that he’s the one who insisted she talk to him, he’s inching himself ahead of her so it looks like they’re not together.

  Damn.

  Can I just slug him in the face?

  Just once?

  Biting back a curse, I storm to Asia’s side.

  Her brown eyes widen when she sees me. “Hansley, what are you doing here?”

  I don’t answer.

  Shrugging out of my blazer, I drop it over her shoulders.

  She starts to protest. “I'm fine.”

  “Don’t lie to me.” I give her a hard look. “You’re shaking like a bird caught in the rain.”

  Her chin inches up even higher. “If you’re doing this because of the way people are watching me, I don’t care.”

  “Yes, you do, but that’s not the freaking point.” I grab her arm and help her tug it through the sleeve of the blazer. “I'm doing this because you’re cold.” I take her other arm and do the same thing. “And because String Bean has the observational skills of an ostrich.”

  “Excuse me?” String Bean bellows.

  Asia laughs.

  The sound is freaking Mozart to my ears. I look her over carefully. My blazer swallows her and I patiently fold up each of the sleeves until her slender hands are exposed.

  Taking her fingers in mine, I tug gently. “Come on.”

  “Where are you going?” String Bean demands, sliding in front of us.

  “To the VIP section.” I arch an eyebrow. “Join us if you want.”

  His mouth drops.

  I give him a disgusted look and drag Asia to the front of the line where she freaking belongs.

  Eleven

  Asia

  I’d forgotten that Hansley is a billionaire.

  It really doesn’t matter to me and it was never a consideration in my mind.

  I believe that a person is more than what they have in their bank account.

  It’s why I was on-board with Thad's desire to break out of the cubicle grind and go after his dream of starting his own accounting firm. It was something he kept talking about and never had the guts to do. Fear of failure kept him from taking the risk.

  Hansley was the complete opposite. Though he came from a wealthy family, he didn’t rely on old money to make his fortune. He threw in with his childhood best friends and opened up a software company that is now worth a billion dollars.

  How do I know all this?

  I might have looked him up after running into him at Make It Marriage.

  It was just curiosity. Nothing else.

  And I might have stalked his socials.

  Just a little.

  But what I saw on his public page gave me enough conviction to scrub him from my mind. Parties on yachts. Exotic locations. Exotic women.

  The man doesn’t discriminate—I’ll give him that.

  “Is he going to keep staring at us?” Thad whispers.

  I glance over my shoulder and my eyes slam into Hansley’s. His gorgeous lips curl into a scowl. Brawny arms fold over his chest.

  I dig my hands into the pockets of his coat, feeling small, fragile and cared for.

  I thought I knew Hansley.

  I really did.

  An hour scrolling someone’s social media and Wikipedia page is more than enough to tell what kind of person they are.

  But I was off.

  Way off.

  Yes, he’s a billionaire.

  I saw it when we jumped the line a minute ago.

  I feel it now that we’re sitting here in this private, lavish section of the restaurant being waited on hand and foot.

  But Hansley’s more than that.

  He’s… different.

  Asia, you might have misjudged this guy.

  Dang it.

  I hate being wrong.

  Hansley arches an eyebrow, his square jaw hitting the light. It looks like the perfect angle for a picture. Hell, every move he makes looks perfect for a picture.

  I’ve yet to find a bad angle.

  He mouths at me, “Ready to go?”

  “I just got here.”

  He frowns like a kid eager to get out of school. “So?”

  “Ehem.” Thad clears his throat. “Asia.”

  I startle.

  Thad leans in close and whispers, “Something’s wrong with this guy. Blink twice if you’ve been kidnapped.”

  A low growl starts from the other table. My eyes flit there and I find Hansley glaring at Thad’s hand on mine.

  My ex pretends not to have heard, but he backs away a moment later with fearful eyes.

  I shoot Hansley a dark look.

  He returns it in full.

  To his credit, he did show some self-restraint. Instead of parking himself at our table—the way I fully expected him to, Hansley gave us a bit of space.

  Not enough, obviously.

  But I’ll applaud the effort anyway.

  “Asia, I’m worried about you.” Thad talks fast under his breath. “You met this guy… what? Yesterday? And he’s already so possessive. That’s a bad sign. He could be a psychopath or a mass murderer.”

  I snort.

  Thad doesn’t. “You need to run. This stranger—”

  “He’s not a stranger. Technically. We met before yesterday.”

  “You never mentioned him,” Thad says, an almost accusing note in his voice.

  “Do I know all of your female friends?”

  “Of course.”

  He’s right. That was a dumb question.

  “What do you want, Thad?” I sigh.

  “You. I want you.” He blurts out his confession. “I still love you, Asia.”

  My heart pinches as I stare into his grey eyes. Was I ever crazily, passionately in love with Thad?

  No.

  Not once.

  And I liked that.

  I love that.

  My parents were crazily, passionately in love once.

  And then that burning, raging flame sputtered.

  And then it blew out.

  And then it was ugly battles in divorce court and double the Christmas presents and being guilted into choosing who I wanted to spend the holidays with.

  I don’t want my future children to live with that kind of agon
y. To reel from those deep, unexplainable scars.

  My version of a happy marriage is one that’s stable, consistent. Boring.

  I want boring so bad it hurts.

  But even that dream shattered thanks to Thad.

  He was supposed to be my boring-ever-after.

  He was supposed to be that steady, predictable foundation that I could build my life on. A foundation that wouldn't shake when things got hard or bail when we disagreed.

  I know passionate love doesn’t work.

  And realistic love doesn’t work either.

  So what the hell? Should I just stay single for the rest of my life?

  You’re married.

  Right. Damn.

  “You still love me?” I take a sip of my orange juice. Fold my hands together. Spear him with a sharp look that makes him wince. “You broke up with me via text Thad.”

  “A severe miscalculation on my part.” He squirms.

  I laugh bitterly. “You know what kills me. You knew I was going to the bridal boutique. I told you about that from the night before. And when I got your text, all I could imagine was you, sitting in your mama’s house, thinking about me trying on dresses, thinking of me wearing that dress when I walked down the aisle to you. And…” Emotions scratch against my throat. “And that vision of me committing my life to you disgusted you so much that you—” I hang my head and stare at the fancy china plate on the table.

  “Asia, no. That’s not it at all…”

  I hear a chair scrape against tiles.

  Hansley charges to his feet, his jaw clenching.

  His eyes blaze into me. Beam with worry and concern.

  I subtly shake my head in his direction.

  He takes a step anyway.

  I jut my chin left and right no.

  Anger sizzles from his expression. I can tell he wants to grab Thad by the neck, wrench him out of his chair and toss him off the balcony.

  His chest heaves beneath the T-shirt.

  Dark eyes narrow in agitation wrap it up.

  I draw my chin in a straight line sit down.

  He does. Unwillingly.

  His long, pale fingers wrap around the head of the chair and hold on tight as if he’s bracing himself, waiting for one sign from me. As if he’s ready to pop out and sweep me away from Thad at a moment’s notice.

  I jerk my attention away from Hansley and focus on my ex. As broken as I feel, it’s not because I was crazy about Thad.

  I’m reeling from shame. Embarrassment. Time wasted.

  Thad’s rejection hurt my ego. Having to tell my friends and family the truth will bruise my pride. But the aftermath of living without him is something I will get over.

  I’m not a fragile princess who needs rescue. I can handle this myself.

  “Thad, do you remember what I said to you on our first date?”

  He rubs his chin, pursing his lips in thought. “You said you wanted someone you could count on.” His grey eyes barely meet mine. “You said that being consistent and reliable meant more to you than anything else.”

  “That's still true.”

  “But Asia, I’m still me. I’m still the guy you can rely on.”

  “No, you’re not Thad.” I stare at him. “You’re an incredibly intelligent man and before you do anything, you consider the process and consequences deeply. I know that because I’m just like you.” My laugh is soft, a little resentful. “The method, the words you used—I can forgive everything, but it won’t change the fact that you showed me I can’t depend on you. When things get tough or you get nervous, you’re going to make a run for it. You’re going to leave me alone to pick up the pieces by myself.”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?” He hisses. “I flew all this way to make things right. This is my grand gesture.”

  “It’s too late.” I turn away. “Now that I’ve heard you out, I’d like you to leave.

  Hansley stands, a silent threat in the background.

  Thad doesn’t fight. He gets up. “I know you too, Asia. And there’s no way you chose that guy.” He nods at Hansley. “He won’t be consistent. He won’t be reliable. You won’t ever feel safe enough to count on him. I don’t know the circumstances behind your marriage and I don’t care. He’s going to break you. You and I both know that’s true.”

  My nostrils flare. “Goodbye, Thad.”

  “It’s not goodbye, Asia.” He grabs his wallet from the table and stares into my eyes. “I’ll see you soon.”

  Twelve

  Hansley

  “When do I get to punch that guy?” I ask, grabbing the chair directly beside Asia and plopping down next to her.

  “Why is violence your answer to everything?”

  I snag one of her pieces of bacon. “Might I remind you that only a few days ago, you were planning to key his car?”

  “You talked me out of it.” A smile trembles on her lips.

  Damn.

  I need that.

  Need to see her smiling like she did last night. When she was carefree. When nothing mattered except the present.

  She stopped smiling the moment String Bean showed up.

  Technically, she stopped smiling when we woke up in bed together.

  But there was still a fight in her eyes. A spark in her expression.

  Thad sucked the life out of her.

  In fact, every second with him seemed to drain her. I saw her unravelling like a ticking time bomb. She kept worrying her bottom lip. Kept glancing down. Looking away.

  He was drumming up feelings in her that stole the confidence right out of her pretty brown eyes.

  I wanted to destroy him for that.

  And then I wanted to get up and wrap my arms around her.

  Wanted to kiss her forehead and whisper you’re so much better than that punk in her ear.

  Which is a problem.

  Because I don’t do the ‘white knight’ thing.

  Never have.

  Except once.

  Except with Sharon.

  The fact that Asia stirs a similar level of protectiveness in me is troubling. I keep forgetting who I am when I’m around her. I keep crossing my own lines.

  “Would you stop eating my bacon.” She smacks my knuckles.

  “There’s an endless buffet. You can get more.”

  “That’s why you can order your own.” She pushes me away.

  Glad to see the spark slipping back into her eyes, I lean closer. “I’m really curious.”

  “About?” She arches an eyebrow. Tilts her head.

  I like the way she does that. Meets my eyes.

  It’s a habit of hers—just like the lip biting thing.

  She looks people in the eyes when she talks to them. And then she’ll observe and observe. It’s like she’s trying to figure out who I am in the space of a couple moments of eye contact.

  Some might find it intimidating.

  I think it’s sexy.

  “Why did you ever give that punk the time of day?”

  “We got matched by professionals.”

  “A mistake.”

  “It wasn’t.” She laughs softly.

  That sound. Mm.

  I add ‘laughter’ to my mental checklist of things I need to see Asia do more.

  Smile and laugh.

  Those are my two missions for the day.

  Hell, for the week if she’ll let me.

  Since when do you want to spend the week with a woman?

  I push that voice aside. I’ll analyze later. Right now, Asia’s more important.

  “He fit all the qualifications I wanted in a partner.”

  “Like?” I ask, wondering if I compare in any way.

  “He was introverted,” she says.

  So… not me.

  “He liked staying home and reading books on a Friday night.”

  I cringe.

  Also not me.

  “Most importantly, he was looking for a committed relationship with the end goal of marriage.”

  Defin
itely not me.

  “That’s it?” I reach for a pancake.

  “What do you mean that’s it? And stop eating my food!”

  I chomp angrily. “Your requirements are so…”

  “Practical?”

  “Tedious.”

  “That’s a big word, Hansley.”

  I slant her a really look. “You deserve more than that.”

  “No, that’s more than I deserve.”

  I frown. “What’s the story?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “No one talks that strongly unless they have a reason.”

  She folds her hands beneath her chin and stares me straight on. “My parents got divorced when I was eight. Everyone in the family thought they’d be together forever, but forever lasted five years.”

  “How’d they meet?”

  “At a music festival. It was lust at first sight. They hooked up and my mom got pregnant with me so they got married. They were crazy about each other. Until they weren’t. Until the pressures of the real world and the demands of marriage and a kid tore them apart.”

  “That’s one case. Marriage doesn’t have to be gloom and doom.”

  “Have you seen the divorce rate? It’s not all rainbows and candy canes.”

  “It’s not a ticket to eternal misery either.”

  “Marriage is demanding. It takes work.”

  “Hard work? Sometimes.” I shrug. “But demanding isn’t the right word.”

  “You do realize that we’re all wired to be selfish, right? Commitment, respect, self-control, self-restraint—without them, a marriage won’t stand a chance, but those skills don’t come easy. They’re difficult to maintain because they require denying yourself.”

  “Is that why you got with String Bean? You were denying yourself all pleasure?”

  Her lips press together but not before I see the smile trembling there. “This coming from the man who embraces his player status and refuses to commit to anything?”

  “That’s a choice, remember? Not a default setting.”

  “Oh really?” She arches both eyebrows.

  “Yes, really. My parents were high school sweethearts. They’re still together and as in love as the day they met.”

  “That’s incredible.”

  “I learned a lot from watching how my father treats my mother, the respect and care he shows her. It’s a two-way street, but the vast responsibility rests on his shoulders. If something’s wrong, he fixes it. He doesn’t blame her. He doesn’t get defensive. He makes it work. And the more he prioritizes her, the more she falls in love.”