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)
Then I can make the other, more pleasurable moves.
“Looking forward to it, Mr. Brewer,” I say.
Before he can respond, I pivot on my heel and leave him sitting there.
Chapter 12
Chloe
“Is your car supposed to make that noise?” Mimi asks, peering over the dashboard as the scenery around us changes.
The city buildings stopped a few miles back, and as we’ve wound our way deeper into a residential area, the trees lining the road have grown taller. The homes behind the pines and strategically placed shrubs are harder to see. Still, their grandeur is unmistakable.
The evening sun’s rays filter magically through the vegetation and create a muted glow over everything in their path. It would make a perfect scene in a movie. A granddaughter and her Mimi, traveling into the sunset to start a new life.
Ha.
I let off the gas a bit, and the thumping stops. “There? Is that better?”
“You really need to get that checked.”
“I’ll add that to my to-do list.”
The box truck in front of us stops at a gate more ornate than the one we passed through to enter this neighborhood. It’s copper colored, the metal twisting and turning into elegant arches and bends. A B for Brewer is situated in the center.
It swings open, and we follow the truck through.
I can barely sit still as we crawl down an extended driveway lined with beautifully sculpted hedges and pops of colorful flowers. The landscaping is immaculate. I can only wonder how gorgeous the drive is at night when the path is lit by the solar lights dangling from posts every few feet.
It gives storybook vibes. And it doesn’t feel real.
For the next six months, this is where I’ll live.
My stomach bubbles with anticipation as we grow closer to Jason’s house. Mimi’s curiosity intensifies, too. When I got home, I realized I didn’t know what to tell her, and I didn’t feel capable to get through the conversation alone. So I picked the easiest of the two options and decided to wait until we made it to Jason’s in hopes he would help me break the news.
She always takes news better from handsome men. But don’t we all?
“Where exactly are we going, sweetheart?” Mimi asks, squinting into the sun.
“You’ll see soon. We’re almost there.”
“I can’t wait to see where there is, considering this is nothing like what I imagined.”
Oh, just wait …
I’ve labored over how to explain this to her because the last thing I ever want to admit to my grandmother is that I’m marrying someone for money. Hell, that’s hard enough for me to admit to myself, and the more I think about it, the more nauseous I become. But it’s not just for money—it’s for a life-changing amount of money. And I’m not just marrying any man. I’m marrying a man I trust and respect, and who seems to be into this ruse to benefit himself, as well.
If you take the religious element of marriage out of the picture, this is really no different than him loaning me the money and having me work it off. It’s just that instead of paying him interest and maybe defaulting on a few payments when times get hard, I’m helping him with a project of his own by playing a role.
I’m being paid to play the role of his wife.
That doesn’t make me any less queasy.
“Are we consummating this marriage, Mr. Brewer?” I ask.
“That’s up to you … But I hope so.”
I’ve dreamed of having sex with Jason more times than I can count. But it was just that—a dream. We may have flirted and teased each other, but we’ve been careful to stay in our lane. Our professional relationship and private friendship were on the line.
But now? Those lines are blurring, and even though I’m the one who proposed this, I’m still nervous.
“Are we staying here?” Mimi grips her seat belt and gawks at the house in front of us. “What the heck is this place?”
Oh wow.
My mouth hangs agape at the sight looming before us. I had no idea people really lived like this.
The home is a deep, tobacco-colored wood with two stories and many windows. A long porch extends down one half of the house with a swing drifting back and forth in the breeze. On the other side is an attached garage deep enough and with enough bays to hold more cars than I’ll probably ever own in my whole life. The driveway circles in the front around a flagpole, and the landscaping is immaculate. It’s clean and sophisticated. Yet I can see Jason’s brothers on the front lawn playing football on Thanksgiving.
I smile at the idea.
“I think you’re supposed to go that way,” Mimi says, her bony finger pointing toward the side of the house.
I follow the box truck along the side of the house and stop alongside it. Then I cut the engine.