Be My Bride (Make It Marriage Book 8)

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Be My Bride (Make It Marriage Book 8) Page 9

by Nia Arthurs


  Her eyes narrow in thought. “We could spin it in our favor. It wouldn’t be the truth, but it would keep our clients and our investors calm until we can figure out a better, more permanent solution.”

  Grumbles of agreement rise around the table.

  “No.” Hansley’s jaw flexes. “I don’t agree with this.” His eyes move from Brett to Kayla. “You guys are freaking insane.”

  “Hansley!” I scream when he charges for the door.

  Brett starts to rise.

  Tierra grabs his hand and keeps him in place. “No.”

  “He needs some sense beaten into him,” Brett grumbles.

  “Let Asia go,” Tierra whispers. Our eyes connect over the table.

  I dip my chin.

  Suck in a breath.

  Run after the furious billionaire.

  Sixteen

  Hansley

  “Hansley!” Her sneakers pound against the tiles. She reaches out and grabs my elbow. “Hansley, stop!” Asia bends over, trying to catch her breath. Her hair spills over her shoulders and dangles to her waist. “Why are you so upset?”

  “You don’t have a problem with what they’re trying to pull in there?”

  Her dark brows crawl together. “Aren’t you the one who said you’d lose a contract over this?”

  “There’s always another way,” I hiss. “Always.”

  “None that can solve everyone’s problem.”

  “Why the hell is that responsibility on you?” I shake my head. “No. I’ll call a lawyer and get this marriage annulled.”

  Asia’s quiet voice echoes in my head. “Is it me?”

  My heart lurches, throwing itself against my ribs as if it wants to break out and flop at her feet. I come to a complete stop.

  “Is acting like you’re in love with me that unappealing to you? Or is it the fact that you wouldn’t be able to have other women?” Her eyes go dim. “I know I’m damaged goods, but I can fake it. I can—“

  I turn swiftly.

  She inches back. “Hansley…”

  I take determined steps in her direction, my nostrils flaring.

  She moves away.

  Hits the wall.

  Panics.

  I don’t care.

  I don’t freaking give a damn.

  She’s squeezing my heart.

  Taking her slender fingers and choking the life out of it.

  I can’t breathe because of this girl.

  String Bean was an idiot. He wasn’t good enough for her.

  I’m not good enough for her.

  And other women?

  How dare Asia even compare herself to the mindless hook-ups I’ve had over the years? I can’t even remember half their names. They never shook me this much. They never crashed into my freaking world and devastated me.

  I step into her. Angle my hips against hers.

  So she knows.

  So she can feel exactly what she does to me.

  “This has nothing to do with you. Don’t you ever doubt how incredible you are. Ever. You are not damaged goods. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

  She tilts her chin up. “Then marry me.”

  “Asia…”

  “Let’s do it. Let’s fake it for a while. It’s not forever, but how many marriages have that guarantee? At least we’ll know where this ends before we start.”

  “Asia, you’re not some piece on a chessboard. I know how serious marriage is to you. I know how much you don’t want a divorce. That’s worth something. Your wants and desires and needs are worth something.”

  “But everyone else—“

  “Everyone else can handle themselves. So our companies take some hits? I’d do that. I’d do that and more to protect you.”

  “I can protect you,” she insists.

  I brush my finger against her chin, my lips quirking up at her boldness. “That’s not how it’s supposed to work.”

  “I know you think I’m just being a pushover, but I’m not. We’ve already done it. We’re already legally bound. We just… won’t change it for a while.”

  “That’s not all.”

  “What else is there?” She folds her arms over her chest.

  “You’ll have to move in with me.”

  Her expression shutters. “Why?”

  “Jensen won’t buy us living in two separate houses. The moment he does an investigation, he’ll find that suspicious.”

  She folds her arms. “Fine. I can do that.”

  “My family will want to meet you.”

  “So will mine.”

  “And what do we say?” I press her, hoping she’ll crack. “How do I look your father in the eye and tell him I was drunk when I proposed to his precious daughter. That I have no intentions of staying with her forever and that I’m just using her to help my business.”

  “When you put it like that it sounds awful.”

  I arch both eyebrows what do you think this is?

  “So we don’t tell our parents the truth.”

  “Asia, think about this.”

  “I have. And I’m fine with a sham marriage. There won’t be any thwarted expectations. I can keep control. I can prepare for the end. It’s… perfect for me, actually. There’s no pressure to have a flawless relationship.”

  “The pressure to have the perfect relationship isn’t on you.” He taps his chest. “The responsibility’s on me.”

  “Then you don’t have to worry about it either.”

  I grit my teeth. “Why are you being so stubborn?"

  “Because I can handle this much.” She smiles softly. “Now, let’s go back in there and make a plan.”

  She grins and my knees go weak.

  It’s that blasted smile.

  I’m disarmed by it immediately and I allow her to lead me back inside.

  Brett scowls at me.

  I resist the urge to flip him off.

  “Where did Kayla go?” Asia asks, noticing the blank TV.

  “She had another contraction,” Elizabeth says, holding her husband’s hand tightly.

  Ina—a curvy woman with short black hair and skin a smooth, dark shade—winces. “It sounded painful.”

  “I can’t believe she took our call when she was in labor.” Asia returns to her seat. “That’s incredible.”

  The conversation shifts to birth, pain, and each lady’s own fears about having children some day.

  I meet the other guys’ eyes over the table. We share an understanding grimace.

  Finally, Venus clears her throat. “Let’s get back to the point.”

  Everyone goes silent.

  “Kayla mentioned doing an interview with one of our trusted reporters. They’ll cover the story in a flattering light. How do you feel about that?”

  “We discussed it.” Asia glances at me. “And we’re in.”

  “Hansley?” Amina arches an eyebrow.

  I sigh. “Is it TV or a magazine?”

  “Both.”

  I nod.

  Venus folds her fingers together. “This is where our questions end. We won’t get involved in the details of your arrangement. How long you stay together. Where you live. Whether you date other people—”

  “Not gonna happen.” I imagine Asia sneaking around with some other guy and scowl. “We do this, we do it right.”

  “Agreed,” Asia says.

  “That’ll be a lot less complicated.” Ina, gives an approving nod. “For both of you.”

  “She’s right.” Elizabeth laughs. “We started out this way too. Faking a marriage, I mean.”

  Brogan scrubs his red beard. “Although we didn’t have so much press attention.”

  “Are you kidding, babe? My family’s scarier than the press.”

  He tilts his head true.

  “Even though we’re not asking for details,” Amina says, “we would like it if you’d keep us in the loop so we can prepare our press packets. When your divorce is announced, we’ll put out a statement, but we won’t make it loud. The point
is to gently ride out this crisis until we’re all in the clear.”

  “We appreciate it. I’m speaking for both of us.” Asia pats Venus’s hand. “And we hope the rest of your honeymoon isn’t so stressful.”

  Venus slants Troy, a mischievous look. “Every weekend is like our honeymoon.” She winks at Asia. “This was nothing, so don’t even sweat it.”

  Troy checks his watch. “How about lunch? It’s getting around that time.”

  The tension breaks.

  Smiles begin to bloom.

  The ladies gather to talk.

  Elizabeth, Tierra and Ina surround Asia, separating her from me. While the women chat and try to decide on what they feel like eating (which I know from personal experience will take forever), I find Brett.

  We walk to a corner of the room.

  “Did you get the email from Jensen too?” I ask.

  “I did. Although, I couldn’t confirm the scandal was related to his decision.”

  “It is.” I tell Brett about my call with my contact at Jensen Corp. “But convincing him I’m a family man won’t necessarily mean he’ll change his mind. You and I both know it was a steep climb from the start.”

  “Better than letting it go without a fight. We need to do everything we can to get him back and this is a good start.”

  My gaze slides to Asia. She’s standing in the middle of her friends, completely at ease with the fact that she just signed up for a temporary marriage to me.

  Just then, she glances up.

  Our eyes meet.

  Her smile gets a little shyer and softer.

  My heart bucks in response.

  Brett smirks. “You sure marrying her was an accident?”

  “What?” I tear my eyes away from Asia. “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ve done a lot of stupid things with a lot of gullible women before, but you never went so far as to marry them.” He juts his chin out at Asia. “And you’ve never cared for those women, the way you do with her.”

  “Are you asking if I’m in love with my wife?”

  His lips twitch. “Are you?”

  “I don’t want to hurt her.” I face the stunning view of the strip. “I’m not sure she understands what she just signed up for.”

  “Just keep it as uncomplicated as you can. We can get what we need done in a month. Four weeks. That’s it. Quietly divorce and move on with your life.” He lifts a brow. “But keep the trips to the Vegas marriage chapels at a minimum. We can’t deal with any more viral wedding ceremonies, okay?”

  I open my mouth to tell him off when my phone rings.

  I pull it out of my pocket. Glance at the screen.

  My body tenses. “Damn.”

  “Who is it?”

  I show him the name blaring across the screen. “It’s my mother.”

  Seventeen

  Asia

  The first class section of a plane is… different. It’s strange to be here. At the front. With the wealthy people who can afford to spring extra for leg room and lobster.

  I spent my life content at the back. Scrunched between a sweaty guy or a talkative grandma. Suffering when the person in front of me reclined their seat. Getting kicked in the back by a kid with too much energy.

  It was fine.

  Great.

  Whatever.

  It was what I could afford and I was content.

  I never once looked up at the curtain that separated all the sections and wanted more. So sitting here with enough leg room to throw a frisbee, I’m wondering if I can ask to be exchanged.

  Stewardess, I’d like my orange pumpkin and my Cinderella rags back, please.

  Sounds crazy, but it’s the truth. I want my scrunched leg room. And the sweaty guy pressed against my shoulder. And the kid kicking my chair in the back.

  I’m comfortable there.

  Life makes sense back there.

  I might have my head in the clouds, but I’ve got my eyes wide open. What’s going on here is only temporary.

  My clock strikes in thirty days.

  One month.

  After that, this will all disappear in a poof of pixie dust.

  Hansley touches my wrist. “What's wrong?” His eyebrows pinch together. "Are you feeling nauseous?”

  “No.”

  His eyes drop to my lips—which are currently between my teeth. “You’re worried.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Yes.” He reaches out and gently tugs my bottom lip down. “You are.”

  His touch is whisper-soft. I want to melt into it, but I have too many thoughts crashing through my mind to let the Hansley-effect take over.

  Hansley continues to hover over me, his face inches from mine.

  I’m struck again by the near poetic symmetry of his face. The defined jaw line, the stubble, the pink lips and thick lashes—if he wasn’t so masculine, he’d be almost pretty.

  “Is it because we’re flying out to meet my parents?” His thumb gently grazes my cheek. “You’d prefer we didn’t?”

  “No. I’m—I don’t mind.”

  “My mom insisted.” He frowns. “But I can make up an excuse to postpone this. You don’t have to meet her today.” He pauses. Seems to consider it. “Or at all. I’m okay with whatever you want.”

  “I want to meet your mom.”

  “Are you sure? You look—“ His eyes caress my face. “Are you sure?”

  “I can handle it. I put up with Thad’s mom which pretty much prepared me for anything.”

  “She was tough?”

  “It was two years of passive-aggressive comments. Little ‘notes’ about my cooking, my outfits, my job.”

  “She insulted you?”

  “Whoa. Put the killer eyes away, sir. It wasn’t that serious.”

  He tilts his head. “Just say the word. I can key her car while we’re taking care of String Bean’s.”

  I laugh.

  “I’m serious. She should have been busting the door down, doing everything she could to get you to stay with her punk of a son.”

  “Punk? No, Thad could do no wrong. He was the apple of her eye and deserved the very best.” I smile sadly. “Which is why she wanted him to marry a lawyer or a doctor.”

  “You own a graphic design business. Isn’t that admirable enough?”

  “What’s admirable about a struggling artist?” I dig my fingers into my palm.

  Getting my brand out there turned out to be harder than I thought. Grit and determination don’t pay the light bills and I found that I had to work other, menial jobs just so I could keep doing my dream as a side-hustle.

  My business recently started paying enough to cover rent and I’ve been living on Ramen so I could quit all my part-time gigs and give the site all my focus. It’s not the most glamorous lifestyle, but at least I’m off the ‘starving’ part of the ‘starving artist’ gig’.

  Growth has been incremental, but I’m nothing if not stubborn.

  And organized.

  Very organized.

  My progress has been totally organic. My work does the advertising for me. Most of my customers come back again and again.

  Still, compared to Hansley’s billions, I have nothing to shout about.

  “You had the guts to get up and go after your dreams. That’s worth something in my books.”

  “Says the billionaire.”

  “We all start somewhere.”

  “I’ll call you when I hit the big time.”

  He smiles. “If anyone’s going to make it happen, it’s you.”

  My chest explodes with warmth.

  He doesn’t have to sound so sincere about it. Is he trying to make my heart flutter?

  I pull my eyes away from his. “To be fair to her, that wasn’t the only reason she didn’t like me.”

  He waits patiently.

  I play with the hem of my blouse. “Lucy always pictured Thad with someone less…”

  Hansley arches an eyebrow. “Less… what? Stubborn.”

&
nbsp; “Black.”

  The smile drops from his face. “She was racist.”

  “She was traditional.”

  “You’re defending her?”

  “I’m explaining where it came from. It wasn’t just my skin tone. She hated how Thad and I met too. She wanted him to get with the daughters of her friends from church.”

  “Who all looked like her, right?” Hansley grits his jaw.

  “She was never rude to me. Not outrightly.” I don’t know why I’m defending Lucy. But suddenly, I don’t want to admit that bigotry existed—unaddressed—for the years while I was dating Thad. “She loved her son and the feeling was mutual.”

  “That’s no excuse.”

  “Is your mother…” I wince. “I mean…I’m—you know. Will she have a problem with me being different.”

  “You’re asking if she’ll be upset that I married a black woman?”

  I nod.

  “No.” He clears his throat. “Mom might be upset, but it won’t be because of your race.”

  I flop back into my seat. “The videos.”

  “She’d prefer I did the church thing with a fancy ceremony.”

  “She must think I’m some ditzy gold digger.”

  “Probably.”

  I groan.

  He rubs a circle over my knuckles. “She’ll get over it.”

  Flashbacks of my time with Thad’s mom rush through my brain. Lucy hated my guts and I didn’t stick my tongue down her son’s throat on video and marry him in front of Elvis.

  Hansley’s mother will probably want to kill me.

  He studies me. “Why do you care anyway? I thought the pressure was off because this isn’t real?”

  “I want to make a good impression on your family.” My head begins to ache as I realize this is only a part of the truth.

  I want Hansley’s parents to like me because…

  Goodness. Why is this so important?

  “Overachiever.” He slants me a teasing grin. “Stop stressing. When you meet them, you’ll realize you wasted all this energy over nothing.”

  I chew on my bottom lip. “What if I say the wrong thing?”

  Hansley rolls his head back against the seat rest. “You won’t.”

  “What if she hates me on sight?” I panic.

  “Never,” he mumbles, his eyes closed.

 

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