And I’ve just given him the damn jackpot.
“Easy, bro. I didn’t mean to insult your girlfriend,” he says smugly.
“She’s not my girlfriend!”
“When are you proposing for real? Don’t you think it’s about time?”
“I’m not the marrying type, and you know it,” I whip back.
“So, you’re cool if I marry her then? Because I’ve been considering making a move.”
My stomach knots, even if I think he’s just messing with me.
Joking or not, I’m still ten seconds from pushing my own brother off the balcony.
“You’ve never even been on a real date in what, five years? Not since you were swept up with Carmen what’s-her-face.” I don’t add more, knowing Nick’s stormy relationship with that terrible woman is almost as big an open wound as my torched engagement.
He laughs so hard he bends at the waist.
“Relax! I’m just fucking with you, man. I’ve never seen you so pale.” He stops to laugh it up some more before throwing a glare. “Seriously. Hurry up and propose before someone else beats you to the punch. She has plenty of eyes on her, and not everyone’s going to be playing.”
The jackass keeps grinning, enjoying how he has me pinned.
“I’m ten seconds from kicking your ass. You’ll deserve it, too.”
“Yeah, the only problem is you won’t kick anything because I deserve it. It’ll be because you’re pissed I had the balls to tell you that girl has you wrapped around her finger—and you like it.”
“Does not,” I mash out between pinched teeth.
“Yeah, but it wouldn’t be cool if I took her out after the ninety days, huh?”
“You’re taking this shit too far.”
“Get it over with. Wife her. Tell her the ring means business. A serious wedding might fix our problems,” he says, stroking his chin.
“Whatever. So that’s what this is about. If I marry her, you don’t have to feel bad that you let Mom in your office. Man up and deal with it, because I told you, I’m not the marrying type—and if I were going to marry someone it wouldn’t be Paige Holly in a million years.”
I mean it, too.
There’s no way I’d ever let my parents destroy such a warm-hearted angel.
“Ward!” Nick raises his eyebrows.
“I told you, there’s no room in my life for love. I’m better off sticking to greasing the machine that keeps us employed. Why would I give that up for fucking nuptials? Paige is better off without me.”
Nick looks past me, a pained look on his face.
“Ward—”
“Besides, I’d have to love her first, you know.” I pause, glowering, hoping my face doesn’t give up a single flash of what I feel—what I’m terrified to admit. “I don’t even think I’m capable of love,” I add.
“Damn it, Ward. Shut up,” he snarls, leaning forward.
“No, we’ve got to get this done and end this game with our parents before it’s too late. This fake out has gone on long enough. I can’t marry her and it’s not fair to her to keep drawing it out. She’s getting obsessed. She even cooks for me now, and it’s decent grub.”
“Ward. Brother. Would you shut your fucking mouth?” Nick growls, waving his arms.
I cock my head.
“You’re the idiot who brought it up. If you’re pissed at getting an earful, I—”
Thud.
Crash.
Slowly, I turn to face the noise.
Paige crouches just outside the entrance of the patio, picking up pieces of a broken mug.
“I’m the only idiot here,” she hisses, her voice is so quiet I barely hear it.
“I’ve got it.” Nick slips past me and bends down beside her, gathering up the mess.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “You seemed upset. I thought some tea might calm you guys down.”
Nick’s voice is gentle, tense. “It’s okay. Don’t worry, I’ve got it.”
She nods, her shoulders dropping, wiping at her eyes.
“Paige,” I say.
She stands and stares at me. Tears stream down her face. She’s pallid, bone-white, hugging herself like she’s been sliced open and has to struggle just to hold herself together.
And I’m the goddamned butcher holding the knife.
If I’d heard her say what I just did—fuck. I can’t even think about it.
My gut dives and crashes so hard it almost doubles me over.
Par for the course when I’ve just dashed my whole life against the rocks.
“Paige—” I step toward the entrance, trying to find the words, begging my brain to work.
She throws up her palms.
“Just stay back. Please? I...I can’t right now.” Her voice is so small, hurt, timid.
Another sucker punch plows my gut, a hideous realization. I was so worried about my parents crushing her, I just did