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“No.” In truth, Nia seems to have settled somewhere inside me and taken over half my brain functions…and most of my cock.
“Then let’s just be us. No labels, no judgment. No worries. If it’s meant to be, we’ll figure it out. If it’s not, then we’ll hope that we’ve each learned something from the experience and made one another feel good while it lasted.”
I suspect she’s right, but I prefer something more. “I’m looking to get married.”
“And I’m only looking to get married for the right reasons.”
Love. That’s what she means. This conversation frustrates me because a poetic, idealized emotion is completely unnecessary. I’m even more annoyed that I have four more candidates I could interview for the position of wife, and yet I’m only interested in Nia. This is clearly a defect in my thought process. Maybe I should chalk it up to the sex drive not being logical. Whatever the reason, I’m not willing to give up trying to convince her that we could be happy together without silly Prince-Charming fantasies.
Instead of railing, I need to be rational and show her all the unmistakable, cogent reasons she should marry me, starting with family. She wants one? I have one. They’ll love her. And she will absolutely adore them.
“I get it. And I appreciate the honesty,” I say finally. “But I intend to marry you.”
“Evan—”
“Before you protest, tell me what you’re doing for Thanksgiving.”
She frowns at the change of subject. “Well, I’m thinking about doing a 5K. I’ll DVR the parade so I have something to do besides miss my mom. I’ll probably eat Chinese takeout from down the street. You?”
I smile and go in for the kill. “I’m going to Maui. Come with me. If there’s any chance we’re going to spend our lives together, then I want to introduce you to my siblings and their spouses. Plus, you can get a feel for the island and make sure it’s someplace you could actually see yourself living.”
Nia hesitates, likely weighing the pros and cons. “Actually, that’s a decent idea. It makes sense to see the island before I decide whether to move. And I’d like to meet your siblings.”
I’ve got her. “I’m leaving Monday morning. I was planning to stay for twelve days.”
“I don’t have that much vacation time saved.”
“I know the boss.” I wink. “I’m pretty sure I can fix that for you.”
“All right, then. That sounds really nice.” She squeezes my hand. “I’m glad you’re not spending your first holiday without Becca alone in your apartment.”
“Me, too.” I already knew I couldn’t, but having Nia with me will give me so much more to be thankful for.
“I’ll need to find a hotel and a flight. My credit card is going to hate me, but—”
“No, it’s not. I’m flying charter. I think I can find you an extra seat on the plane, maybe the one next to me. And don’t worry about hotel. We’ll be staying with my sister and her husband.”
Her eyes pop out. “You mean the Noah Weston?”
“Yes. You know football?”
“Um, yeah. Growing up in the south, you live and breathe it. Lots of the guys in high school idolized him. Are you sure he and Harlow won’t mind?”
“They’ll enjoy it. And we won’t be in the way. They have a huge place with eight bedrooms. Right on the ocean. With a great pool. The weather will be fantastic.” I grin her way. “Are you convinced yet?”
“Yes.” She gives me a self-deprecating laugh. “Geez, I sound easy.”
“Easy?” I shake my head. “No, I just said all the right things.”
“Okay, we’ll go with that conclusion.”
Guilia boxes up the leftover pizza and waves off my credit card. They say goodbye to Nia with a big hug and a promise to get together soon.
When we reach the car, I unlock it and hold her door open. “Where am I going?”
Nia takes the box from my hand, tosses it in the front seat, then swings her hip into the door. It shuts with a click. “Right there.”
She points across the parking lot at the side unit. The front is a huge floor-to-ceiling plate-glass window. Above is a tired sign lit in flashing red that reads Dancing Delights Studio. It’s not a bar. It’s not a club. It’s… I don’t know what it is.
