want, and there's no need for a grand ceremony. She told me to just sign the check I write to her father, and the deal will be done."
"Ouch," I muttered. "I know nothing about these kinds of marriages before you go biting my head off, but are you actually writing her father a check for the right to marry her?"
"No!" Yavin said in exasperation. "Yes, it's arranged. I know I stand to gain from it since I'll be taking over for Liam after he retires. I don't care about any of that. I don't even want it."
"So why did you agree to marry her?" I asked, tilting my head to the side and encouraging him to admit the truth to himself through me. I didn't know Aoife, but I knew if I'd been in that situation, I'd have probably given Yavin shit until the day I died.
Unless he actually wanted me.
"She's far from a burden," Yavin said hesitantly. At my raised eyebrow and discerning look, he chuckled and finally continued on. "Okay, okay. I saw her. I wanted her. I didn't even want a fucking wife, but I volunteered before my brain caught up to what I was doing."
"So you regret it?" I asked, hoping to hell the answer wasn't a yes. I'd probably kill him if he went through with the marriage when he regretted it before it even happened.
"No," he admitted. "I don't. It just makes no sense. Let's be real here."
I shrugged and stood, walking around the office to examine the lack of personal effects. It was like he'd never really settled into his job at Tease, even though he'd managed it for nearly a decade. "You should put her picture on your desk. Maybe the shelf. Not a sexy picture or anything like that, but something sweet. Go to the effort, so that when she comes to your office for the first time, she can see that she's been here all along. Don't tell her about it or point it out, because that just reeks of looking for brownie points. Let her notice it organically," I murmured.
"I don't have any pictures of her. She refuses to spend time with me in her ‘last few months of freedom’," he groaned.
"So ask her father, stalk her on social media. Put in some fucking effort, Romeo. All she wants is to feel like you actually want her and not what she can give you. You work in a strip club. That is automatically going to work against you. She'll assume you're sleeping around. You proudly displaying her photo for all the girls to see will help that a bit, but not enough. If you haven't already done this, I highly suggest you take a vow of celibacy until she's ready to give it up. The last thing you need is one of the girls talking about how good you dicked them down last week when Aoife starts coming in."
He stared at me like I'd lost my damn mind, and I thought for a moment I'd have to smack some sense into him. "You think I'd agree to an engagement and still sleep around? Fuck, Sandman. Your opinion of me is flattering." He pulled out his phone, tapping away as, I assumed, he brought up Aoife's social media accounts.
"I can't believe I just encouraged you to stalk her." I shook my head, pacing around the room some more. "Keep texting her regularly, but not about the wedding. For her, the wedding is a symbol of your control over her life and a reminder about the arrangement. Ask her questions about herself. Tell her about yourself within moderation. Nobody likes a man who talks about himself constantly. Ask her opinion on disputes with work or what the fuck ever. For advice on your sister if you need to buy Samara a gift. Anything that involves her as a person and not just a contract."
"So treat her like I'm trying to date her even though we're engaged? And do all this through text messages?"
"Does she take your phone calls?" I asked.
"That would be a no," he laughed.
"Then yes, through text. Go to the house and ask to see her. If she won't see you leave flowers or something inexpensive but sweet. Just show her you're trying, but not buying her affection. It may not help much before the wedding, but hopefully it will ease the transition once you're married."
He nodded, spinning the phone to show me her social media. I scrolled through