Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Coleson only stares.
“I must have heard you wrong—”
“You didn’t,” he says, cutting off my failed attempt at trying to cover up my stupidity. “I’ll give you the coffee shop if you marry me.”
I smile. Then I drop the smile. Then I giggle. Then I press my hand to my throat because I must have died when I was choking earlier. “What?” I screech, and he looks down, exhaling hard.
“I need a wife,” he says softly. “When I say I fucked up my image, I’m not kidding. My reputation is a flaming bag of shit.”
My heart is pounding so hard, I can hardly hear him. “And getting married will help?”
He doesn’t look up, and I miss his intent gaze. He shrugs, tearing apart the cake with his fork. I’m unsure if he’s being shy or if he’s embarrassed, but either way, I feel for him. “According to my publicist, I need to appear settled and approachable. A wife will do that. People won’t assume I’m out fucking all the time if I’m tied down.”
I scoff. “Athletes cheat on their spouses all the time. I know a guy who has families all over the USA.” Yes, he’s a jackass, but he was a good lay. I met him at a wedding, and we ended up in the back of his limo. I found out later he was married and had eight kids with five different women. Easy to say, I hightailed it away from him.
“I don’t cheat.” He looks up, his eyes so dark. “I may have fucked around a lot, but I’ve never cheated on anyone. Though, I’ve never been in a relationship either.”
“And you want your first relationship to be a marriage?” I ask incredulously.
“I don’t have a choice,” he says softly, his eyes urging mine. “I’m not asking for forever, McDavid. Just a year. Give me time to get into the NHL, to show that I’m not the piece of shit I’ve appeared to be, and that I’m truly reformed. No longer a manwhore, but a family man. During this time, I’ll train you to run everything, and at the end of the year, I’ll sign over the coffeehouse to you.”
I’m speechless. My jaw is hanging open as I try to process what he is saying. He wants to marry me to fix his image, and in return, I’ll get the coffeehouse. It doesn’t make sense to me. “Why me?”
He licks his lips. “You need something from me. And this way, we’re both getting what we want.”
“I wanted to own a little coffee spot, not a whole-ass shop.”
Coleson shakes his head. “No, you want something that’s yours. This can be yours if you help me.”
I want him to be mine.
Oh no, ma’am. Calm your tits, I chastise my inner slut.
I press my lips together as his words hit me like the truck that hit my sister. I know I’m an asshole for thinking that since my sister was seriously hurt, but really? I take a deep breath as my brain sends me images of me owning this place. It would be all mine, and he’d train me. Louisa could put books in here, and we could work together to hold events. Elliot could market it for us. I could be successful; I could have something that is mine, like Coleson said. Like I’ve yearned for. I grew up with nothing being mine. I was an object for men, to be used and owned. I escaped to give myself the life I wanted. To make something of myself.
This is a huge opportunity.
But a year.
To someone who doesn’t want a marriage?
Shit.
What would my sisters say? What would Peepaw say? He may have been fine with Ciaran and Louisa getting together, but this is way different. Ciaran is a good dude, and he already made the NHL. Or almost has. Peepaw has to know that Coleson’s reputation is shit and about him fooling around with a teammate’s wife. I doubt he’d want me tying myself to him. Because being married makes us one. What he does affects me, and vice versa.
Am I truly considering this?
“When would you need an answer?”
He swallows. “As soon as possible.”
“And what would the conditions be? Will we really be married, or just saying so? Will we only make appearances?”
He shakes his head. “Since the town is so small, we’d go downtown and get married for real. You can move in here or I can find us another apartment, but we’ll need to live together. I’ll pay for everything for the next year, and you will want for nothing. I’ll also pay for the divorce, and it’ll be straightforward. You’ll have the building, so the upstairs would be yours. I’ll hopefully move to wherever I’m playing.”
My heart is in my throat. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”