“Then you’re more messed up than I am. And believe me, that’s saying a lot.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she headed to the bus stop.
“I’ll explain everything. Can we go to your place?” he asked as he fell into stride with her. “Or mine?”
She froze, staring at him. How did she manage to always find the crazy men? “You want me to bring you home? For the love of God, you just asked me to marry you—and you don’t even know me!”
“Yes.” His jaw tightened. “I’ll explain everything. But you’re shivering, and it’s bloody freezing out here. Shall we take your car or mine?”
“I don’t have a car,” she ground out.
“Then we’ll take mine.”
“No.”
Sliding onto the bus stop bench, she plopped her purse in her lap. He sank down beside her, right in her personal space.
She glared at him.
“What? You look cold,” he said.
As if. “Isn’t it against some sort of noble law to slum around bus stops with the peasants?”
Laughing, he rested his head against the wood, turning his gaze to the stars. “Do you see Orion?”
She eyed him, then glanced up. “Yes. He’s pretty much the only one I can ever find.”
“It’s the belt. Makes him easy to see, since the stars all line up perfectly.” He sighed. “If only life were so easy to sort out.”
She squinted at the stars. The sky was so clear, the stars so bright. She watched him from the corner of her eye as she searched the sky.
“I know the little dipper is up there somewhere, but I can never find it.”
“It’s there,” he murmured, moving closer. He rested his head beside hers. Tingles shot up her spine until her head swam. “Hm,” he said. “It’s at ten o’clock, from your viewpoint.”
She gave a small shake of her head. They all just looked like globs of stars to her. “I still don’t see it.”
“Look for the little box.” He traced the shape against the sky, and she followed intently. Suddenly everything in her world seemed to hinge on finding those darn stars.
“Does it have a handle like this?” She traced a band of stars that might fit. Maybe. If she squinted, closed her left eye, and wished really hard.
His chest shook against her arm with laughter. She glowered at him. “Are you laughing at me?”
“I’m sorry. You should see your face.”
She blew out a frosty breath. “Is it even up there, or were you just messing with me?”
“Yes, it’s there. But it doesn’t have a loopy handle.”
“I told you I’m horrible at this,” she complained, shoving his shoulder.
The hum of the bus came from a distance. She met his eyes. “Well, it was nice knowing you.”
“No. Please. Let me come see you tomorrow. I’ll pick you up from work.”
She wavered. Something stupid and foolish inside of her wanted to give him a chance, but the other louder—and smarter—part screamed to shove him away before it was too late. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
He clutched her hands, pulling them to his chest. “My father’s will states I must marry within a given time, or I will lose all of my money.”
She clenched his fingers tightly. So this was why he’d been so charming—so seemingly perfect? He wasn’t a sweet man at all. No, he was schemer—just like all the other men in the world. “I fail to see how that affects me.”
“I need to marry someone. But if I have to do such a thing, I want it to be on my terms. You care about the school.
You’re a good person. Together, we can take my money and put it to good use. Help out the poor people of the city, like you did tonight.”
“I’m not marrying you. And I’m not for sale.” Jerking her fingers free, she crossed her arms across her chest. Her body trembled with fury.
“I know you’re not for sale. I am,” he snapped, running a hand through his hair. “I’m just trying to be honest.”
She ground her teeth together. “Right. And I honestly won’t marry you.”
“I’m asking you to listen to my proposal, and think about what I ask of you before answering. Please?”
“I’ve known you for a day. Why would I possibly marry you?” She held up a hand. “And if you say for the money, I will kick you in the nuts.”
Blanching, he drew in a deep breath. “Tomorrow, after work, I’ll pick you up. We can discuss this once we’ve both have time to clear our heads.”
“What’s the point? My answer is no.”
“Please. I know you don’t know me well, but I promise I’m not crazy. Just give me a chance.”
His eyes met hers, pleading. She hesitated.
“Fine.” She threw her hands up. The bus pulled to a stop at the curb, hissing as its doors opened. She found her bus pass and flashed it at the driver. “Now, will you let me go home?”
“Yes,” Damon said, eyes glowing with satisfaction. “What time do you finish work?”
“Four,” she answered, rolling her eyes. “You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?”
“Maybe. But I’ll change your mind about me. Just wait and see.”
“Mmhm.”
He leaned in and brushed his lips across her cheek, and she fought the urge to sway closer. She shivered and caught her breath as he drew back. He captured her hand, squeezing it gently. “Until tomorrow.”
She nodded and hurried away, climbing into the bus.
She had a terrible feeling that she’d somehow agreed to marry him without even knowing it.
Or wanting to.
…
Damon rolled over in bed, groaning at the incessant pounding in his skull. He’d never been a heavy drinker in the first place, and he’d buried his anger in booze last night after Johanna had refused him. Hell, who could blame him?
He’d just found out he needed to get married to someone— anyone—in the next three months. Worse still, he needed to stay bloody married, and the one woman who made the idea seem appealing refused him.
Even from the grave, his father thwarted him. He’d covered every single angle he could have taken to avoid his father’s last wishes. Now, Damon was left with a burning sensation in his gut and a sour taste in his mouth. As if the marriage stipulation weren’t enough, he’d dared to throw in the other threat. The inconceivable one.