The Love Scam - MaryJanice Davidson Page 0,46
option.
* * *
“What,” Delaney asked, terrified and trying to hide it, “is the nuclear option?”
“Never ask me about the nuclear option.” Rake stared at her, unblinking. “Not ever.”
“Okay.”
“Not ever.”
“O-kay!”
“We shouldn’t even be talking about not talking about the nuclear option. Thank God Lillith’s bunking with Sofia again.”
“Your brother knows when you’ll both turn thirty to the day?”
“See? This is what I’ve been dealing with. For just under thirty years, apparently.”
“And … your mom took away his money?”
“Naw. She’d never. He’s exaggerating. Blake’s always been the golden douche.”
“It doesn’t sound like it. It sounds like he’s”—in as much trouble as you are, she thought but didn’t say—“being serious. Like she really did cut him off from his funds.”
“Impossible.”
Sound nigh impossible? I quite agree, but our mother does not.
For this, in addition to many other crimes you have perpetuated upon me since our birth, you will be made to pay and pay. I warn you only as a courtesy, as dictated by the bonds of family.
Good night.
* * *
“Wow.”
“Right?”
“He sounds like he could be a handful.”
“A handful of priggish hypocritical crap. I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it.” Rake was slashing his fingers through his longish dark blond strands; he was borderline shaggy and deliciously rumpled. “I was really looking forward to getting my phone, and the first thing that hits is a ton of Blake.”
“Which you weren’t expecting.”
“No!”
Why do I want to keep warning him? I’m not supposed to warn him. “Yes, well, the thing is, he sounds like he’s in tr—”
“I mean, look at this thing! Look at it!” He flailed his phone at her. “Who texts like this? This isn’t a text, this is a goddamned thesis!” He shook the thing like it was the author of his misery—maybe in his eyes, it was—and seamlessly continued the rant. “All this to tell me he’s nuts! Or playing the lamest practical joke ever! What is happening to my family, who were always weird but are now weirder?”
“Okay, okay.” She made soothing noises at him, plucked the phone from his hand, tossed it on the bed, then grabbed his hands and walked him backward until he was sitting on the bed beside her.
“I like your hands.” He sighed out of nowhere.
“Great. Now calm down. Let’s think about this. So, you think it’s a joke? In poor taste, but for some reason he’s—what? Lying about everything he’s doing in—what was it, Honey?”
Rake blinked at her. “Uh, no. Sweetheart.” He cut his keen blue gaze away. “Sorry, for a second I thought you were calling me honey.”
“Oh.”
“It was dumb.”
“No, it’s—” She shook off the distraction. She was dim enough to start falling for the carelessly casual idiot, but she’d never ever be dim enough to make the mistake of telling him. Not to mention that her employer’s fury would be dreadful to behold. “Okay, so your mom went to Sweetheart to help—what? Save the town?” At his glum nod, she continued. “And your brother sold a bunch of farms to the bank, thinking it’d help her, but for whatever reason it made the problem worse? Okay. And then she cut off his funds.”
“Well, yeah, that’s apparently the deal, but—that can’t be true. He either got it wrong or it’s his sad-ass idea of a joke. My mom wouldn’t do that. Not to him.”
Oh you poor idiot. “Or you just don’t want it to be true,” she suggested quietly. “Because if Blake doesn’t have money, he can’t help you. If Blake doesn’t have money, it would explain why you don’t have money. Not because of a screwup, or an online mishap. You’d really be broke. You’d really be stuck here indefinitely.”
He just looked at her.
“And if he disobeys … the nuclear option?”
Rake shuddered so hard, the bed shook. Interesting, she thought. Even the thought of imminent, permanent poverty didn’t make him shake like that.
“This is going to sound like I’m being a smart-ass,” he said at last, looking at her with that blue, blue, blue gaze, “but will you please hold me?”
“Oh.” She swallowed. No. Absolutely not. Don’t be ridiculous. Once you have sex with some random bim, you’ll feel better. “Sure.”
He slowly leaned over until his head was resting on her shoulder and, bit by bit, he relaxed, until he was pressed to her side like a sexy lamprey. She eased them back and put her arm around his shoulders, and they lay on her bed hip-to-hip and stared at the ceiling. It should have been awkward.
It wasn’t.
Which was bad.
Really very, very