Marrying Mr. Wrong (Dirty Martini Running Club #3) - Claire Kingsley Page 0,47
It had probably looked like she was smitten with me, but I’d been the only thing keeping her on her feet.
“You did what to my daughter?” Melvin asked, all semblance of friendliness gone from his face.
“No, he didn’t do anything to me. We had too much to drink and ended up married. Because, you know, Vegas. But you don’t need to be angry with him. I don’t even think we slept together, although to be honest, I’m not totally sure. But even if we did, it’s fine, I know I didn’t get pregnant because I started my period this morning, right on time.”
My throat spasmed. Coughing, I turned to the side. She’d just blurted out a hell of a lot of information, especially in front of her father.
Wait. She didn’t know if we’d slept together? She didn’t remember, either?
Well, shit.
“Why the fuck did you marry my daughter if you didn’t even want to sleep with her?” Melvin asked.
“Dad!”
I almost coughed again but managed to keep my throat from closing. What the hell was I supposed to say to that? Actually, sir, I’d love to fuck the shit out of your daughter in about a hundred different ways, but so far, she’s turned me down.
No.
“The fact that we got married was largely due to all the whiskey,” I said. “But I take full responsibility for everything. And I’ll do my best to make sure she gets out of the situation unscathed.”
“You don’t have to take responsibility,” she said.
“No, it’s all right. I do.”
She sighed. “No, you don’t. I think it was my idea first.”
I whipped around to look at her. “What’s that, now?”
“I’m pretty sure I’m the one who suggested we get married. It was right after Drake and Marika had their wedding. I have a vague memory of saying something like hey, we should get married and I’ll be your wifey-poo.”
Now that she said it, I did remember. But I had more pressing issues. Like the fact that her father looked like he was contemplating what to do with my body after he murdered me.
“Let me see if I have this fuckin’ thing straight,” Melvin said. “You two got married but it was just a big, drunken mistake?”
Sophie stood tall, hands clasped, and gave him a decisive nod. “Yes.”
His face contorted into a smile and he broke into a fit of laughter, smacking his thigh while his shoulders shook. “Fuckin’ hell, Soph. I don’t even know why I’m surprised.”
She laughed. “I know. Only me, right?”
I figured this meant we were all good, so I started laughing too. Until Melvin’s eyes flew to my face, his smile quickly transforming into a dark glare. “You better make this right, Cox.”
“Yes sir. I will.”
“So the fellow from the electric company?” Melvin asked, picking up his notepad. “That still a no? I think I can make out his—”
“Still a no, Dad. But thanks anyway.”
He glared at me again. “You better not keep her too long. I want my girl to have a chance at finding a man who’s right for her.”
Something about that made my jaw hitch. I wasn’t right for her?
Why was I even thinking shit like that? Of course I wasn’t right for her. I wasn’t the marrying type.
“Understood,” I said with a nod.
Shaking his head, he let out a long sigh. “What am I going to do with you, princess?”
“I’ll be okay, Dad.”
“Yeah. You always are, God bless you.”
Sophie smiled at her dad, then at me. Goddamn, she was adorable.
The more I got to know her, the more I liked her. Hell, I liked her dad, too. She went to the kitchen to fix him a snack and I pulled out my phone to text my real estate agent. I wanted to make sure we found the right house for Mr. Melvin Abbott. He deserved it.
17
Sophie
Cox pulled up in front of a cute little ranch-style house on a quiet street. A for sale sign stood at the end of the driveway. The yard was tidy and the paint looked new. All in all, not bad. Could I see Dad living here? Possibly. It definitely had potential.
“No stairs,” Cox said. “Nice neighborhood. We’re two for two so far.”
“It’s definitely nice from the outside.”
“Let’s go have a look.”
Although it would probably be at least a couple more months until we filed for divorce, Cox had suggested we start looking for a house for my dad now. It seemed reasonable to me, so he’d lined up some showings for Saturday afternoon.