Page 49

“Like you for you?” I offer.
Nodding, he says, “Something like that. I guess I wanted to keep things simple between us to keep our relationship safe.Losing you just wasn’t an option for me. I’m sorry I was dishonest.”
Dex gently takes the ten-dollar bill out of my hand and then carefully folds it back up exactly as it was. He tucks it back behind his ID card.
“Wait,” I say with a chuckle. “You’re not giving it back? I could use ten dollars. You clearly don’t need it.”
He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “No. Sorry. You can have literally any bill in my bank account except that one. It means way too much to me.”
It only takes one line. Just like that, my fate is sealed.
“Okay, I’m in. I’ll do it.”
“Do what?” he asks, a little glint of hope in his tone.
“I’ll marry you.”
“You’re serious?”
I nod. “Yeah, serious.” I hold out my hand, intent on shaking on it. But Dex doesn’t take it. His eyes are glowing under the flickering streetlamp as he focuses on my face.
“Right now,” he says. “Before we change our minds.”
Dropping my hand, I ask, “Why would you change your mind?”
“I’m about to piss off a lot of people. The lawyers will want a prenup. My execs will be nervous about their positions. Denny will be livid—unless you have an Ivy League degree you haven’t mentioned to me yet.” He laughs absentmindedly.
Who the hell is Denny?“No, definitely not,” I answer.
His smile fades. “What’s wrong?”
“I’ll sign a prenup,” I assure him. “I understand you want to protect yourself. I have no ulterior motives. Not to mention, you’re offering me a get-out-of-jail-free card for my life right now. I’m just glad I can help you.”
“That’s exactly why we don’t need one. I trust you, Lennox. You’re the only person I trust. I don’t need a prenup to protectmyself or my company from you.” He brushes the tip of his thumb against my cheek. A gesture of affection that feels like way more than friendship, confusing the shit out of me.
Last chance. Run.My logic begs me not to do this. But three years later, I’m still powerless before those hazel eyes.
“Okay, tonight. Let’s go,” I agree.
The flood of nerves starts at the top of my head and seeps down to the very tips of my toes, because after three long years of wrestling with my feelings …
I’m now just minutes away from marrying Dex Hessler.
13
Dex
“L
ucky number eighteen,” I say, holding up a white ticket. I plop down next to Lennox on the wooden bench outside the chapel doors. “There are four couples ahead of us. But apparently, the officiant used to be an auctioneer, so he’ll have us in and out like that.” I snap my fingers.
The whole bench is shaking because she’s jiggling her knee aggressively. She’s hunched over, her elbows resting on her thighs, holding her phone between both hands. “Mhm,” she mumbles.
“What’s on your mind?” I ask. Lennox wasn’t this nervous an hour ago at the courthouse when we got our marriage license. She was cool as a cucumber, but now she seems out of sorts.
“Nothing, you?” she mutters distractedly. Her eyes are fixed on her screen and the death grip she’s sporting might snap her phone in half.
“I’m debating how much tongue I’m going to slip you during our first kiss after we say, ‘I do.’”