Page 9 of The Gruff Loner’s Bargain

Landry

Since everything was last minute and Linc and Natalie’s tickets couldn’t be transferred, Brooke and I ended up having to fly into Nashville separately. My flight got in earlier than hers, so I’ve already rented the car and am idling in the “arrivals” lane to pick her up.

I see her immediately, lugging her big roller bag behind her. I pull over to the curb, hit the hazard lights and jump out.

I grab the bag and toss it easily into the trunk. “Damn, Manhattan, think you brought enough stuff for a single weekend?”

I hold open her door, and she sighs audibly at the sound of my voice. “No one is ever going to believe I’m in love with you.”

I laugh, then lean closer, trapping her between the opened car door and my body. “You’re already halfway in love with me now. Admit it.”

For a brief second, I see the expansion in her pupils, her tiny gasp, then the small bite on her bottom lip. She doesn’t want to be, but she’s as attracted to me as I am to her. Then she rolls those pretty dark eyes and gets into the car.

I haven’t completely decided what all I want this weekend to be, but I know for damn sure I’m doing everything I can to get Brooklyn naked and under me. Pulling the ring out of my pocket, I get in on my side and merge back into the flow of traffic.

“Before I forget, I grabbed this for you to wear. To keep up appearances.” I hold my palm out to her with the ring.

She plucks the ring from my hand and looks at it.

I can’t really watch her and keep my eyes on the road. As irritating as that is, I focus on driving. I want her to like it. Which is dumb. Who cares if she likes it? We’re not engaged for real.

“This is gorgeous, Landry,” she says, her voice full of awe.

But I’m a cool cat, so I give a slight nod and put my shades back on. “Glad you like it. Does it fit?”

“Perfectly. Where did you get this?”

I shrug. “It was just laying around the house.”

“Really? An antique, art-deco platinum ring with diamond chips was just laying around your house?”

“Why does it matter where I got it. It’s just for this weekend,” I snap. What the fuck is wrong with me? I wanted her to like it and she does. Curiosity is natural in this kind of situation. I shouldn’t be angry with her.

From my periphery, I see her staring at my profile. “Just tell me these two things,” she says. “Did you buy it or steal it?”

“Steal it? Wow, think pretty highly of me, don’t you? No, I didn’t fucking steal it. And I didn’t buy it. Can we stop with the incessant questions now?”

“Sure.”

We’re quiet until we hit the outskirts of Nashville, the interstate cutting through the beginnings of the Smokies.

“We should probably come up with our story,” she says.

“What story?”

“Like how we got together, how you proposed, that sort of thing.”

“Why do we need a story?”

“Uh, because we’re going to a wedding venue with the intent to book our ceremony there. People will ask.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Who gives a shit how we got together?”

“Men are so weird. It’s a question between women; I can guarantee that. Someone will ask. More than likely multiple someones.”

“Sounds damned nosy to me.”

She releases a sound of exasperation. “Do you have to make everything more difficult?”