TAKE TWO_ Who says you can't ma - Heather M. Orgeron Page 0,4

offer I’d be a fool to refuse.

“What if we gave it another shot?” she asks, almost inaudibly. Her tan cheeks are flushed crimson. “That’d be stupid, right?” She glances from Hannah to me, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.

“Why not?” I interrupt when she starts backpedaling.

“You could always try it out for say…a year.” Hannah pushes her unruly cropped blonde curls behind her ears, and her emerald eyes glow with excitement. She’s always been a fan of Nya and me. “And if you don’t want to be married when the time’s up, you call it quits.”

Nya slinks out of her chair, pacing the kitchen. The room falls silent as we all await the verdict. “Six months,” she counters, looking to me for approval. Insufferable woman always has to have everything on her terms, but she’s finally handing me some terms I can work with.

“What?” Hannah shrieks. “Are you serious?” Bounding out of her chair, she rushes to wrap her arms around her best friend’s neck. “This is the best crazy idea you’ve ever had.”

“Right now,” I suggest, pushing back from the table, before she has the time to change her mind. I look over to Hannah, who’s practically bursting with excitement. “Call the sitter?”

She nods and immediately begins scrolling through her iPhone.

“Vegas?” Nya proposes with something suspiciously close to a twinkle in her eye.

“Vegas!”

Nya

Out with the old

“So, you know how your Mommy never breaks a promise?” Liam pulls the ring I returned to him only yesterday on the ride home from Sin City out of his pocket and reaches for my left hand. “Surprise!”

Ooooh, he’s smooth.

“Shut up!” Ellie’s mouth falls open as she brings a hand to her chest. Her blue eyes—her father’s eyes—shimmering with unshed tears. “So, we’re gonna be a family…like a real family?”

“Already done, sweet pea. Mommy and I got married on your birthday after you went to bed.” His hand motions are big and expressive, like he’s fucking Oprah Winfrey, handing out cars like candy bars. Like this isn’t the world’s greatest disaster unfolding right before our eyes.

Ellie’s brows shoot up to the sky, her hands lifting to cover a scream. And damn it, her excitement almost rubs off on me. Almost.

Against my better judgment and with a boulder the size of Texas—where I’d like to ship his country ass right back to—sitting in my chest, I hold out my left hand and allow him to brand me.

“May I present to you Mrs. Nya Perez-Watts.”

“Watts,” Ellie repeats, looking to me for approval.

I clear my throat, nervously. “Six months, mija. I only agreed to give it six months. I’m not promising forever.”

“But if—” she starts, and Liam cuts her off.

“It just means we have six whole months to make her fall in love with me. Piece of cake.” He scruffs Ellie’s tangles. “What’s gonna work?” he sings.

“Teamwork!” his little sidekick finishes, slapping him a high-five.

A pit forms in my chest when I catch a glimpse of movement in the bay window out of the corner of my eye. “Ay cabrón.” Oh shit.

“What’s wrong?” Liam asks, following my line of vision before cracking an obnoxious grin.

Oh, you know… just everything. “What the hell am I supposed to do about Ryder?” Damn it. With all of the commotion, I completely forgot I left him sitting at the breakfast table.

“You haven’t gotten rid of that joker yet?” Liam has the nerve to look annoyed with me.

“We got m-married—” Acid bubbles in my throat, causing me to choke on the word—”night before last!” I finish my defense, just barely resisting the urge to throttle him. “When did I have the time? I called him over this morning to break the news—which I planned to do after Ellie leaves for school—but here you are.” My eyes scan him from head to foot. I can’t even maintain the look of disgust I’m aiming for because, as usual, the man is looking like he’s just stepped off the cover of a magazine. “There’s no way to let him down gently now. And—” I take a step closer, digging a finger into his chest. “We never discussed you moving into my house.”

“Our house.”

My eyes narrow to slits. “It became mine in the divorce.”

He raises his left hand into the air, thumbing the ring on his finger. “What’s yours is mine, sweetheart.” The infuriating man puckers his lips like a fish, in an attempt not to laugh. He takes a step toward me. “I really don’t give a damn what you do with him, but