Page 37 of Carry On

“I said, I want you to marry me.”

“Oh, you meant an actual proposal,” I said. Yeah, I was imagining things. That’s what was wrong with me. This whole moment was some wild figment of my imagination.

“I did.”

“You don’t even know my middle name.”

“We covered this.” He smiled in that disarming way of his. “It’s Difficult, remember?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I demanded, unable to comprehend this stupid shit from him. “Did you wake up and hit your goddamn head today? Who in their right mind grabs a stranger off the street and just asks him to get married?”

“Let’s face it, we’re not strangers,” Lincoln retorted. He paused as the waitress dropped off his Diet Dr. Pepper and my water, flashing her aquick smile as she did. I frowned at the damn near flirtatious exchange that happened between the two of them. Stupid, charming man.

Not sure why you care,the voice said.It’s not like he’s yours. Anyone is a better choice.

“I don’t use coconut oil like that with strangers,” he continued when she was gone, and I snorted. “You said you get migraines—”

“Jesus fucking Christ, leave it alone!” I cut him off, my voice loud enough to draw attention our way. I wasn’t going down this road with him. It was stupid and pointless.

“Shut up and let me talk, Nash,” Lincoln snapped. Crossing his arms, he leaned on the table. That intense stare was unnerving as I did exactly that. In a hushed voice, he said, “I’m not an idiot. It’s clear that your headaches are more than just a regular headache. I’ve spent all week researching the VA and hearing stories about how hard it is to get anything done through them. There are a lot of veterans who suffer because it’s just easier, which is bullshit. I have damn good insurance, and I want to help. Unfortunately, the only way I’m getting you on my insurance is if we get married.”

“Well, that’s a dumb fucking plan.”

“Maybe, but you could see a real doctor and get real help.”

“And who says I want real help?” Once, a very long time ago, I had tried to see a doctor about the migraines, but jumping through hoops just wasn’t me. When it became more difficult to deal with the healthcare system than it was to deal with the headaches—which was saying something—I gave up. I didn’t have it in me then and certainly didn’t have it in me now. “The healthcare system is broken, Linc.”

“It is,” he agreed. “But it’s easier to navigate when you have good insurance. I’m not saying I have the best insurance—I’m not even sure there is such a thing in this country—but I know it’d be a hell of a lot easier for you.”

“Right,” I murmured.

“Hell, I pay for the insurance every month, and I never use it. Think of it as you doing me the favor of helping me stick it to my insurance company.”

I had a hard time believing that. No one wanted to help, not without getting something from it. No one did anything out of the kindness of their heart. That whole concept was a fucking myth.

Everything has a price,the voice commented.

It was right.

“What do you actually get out of it?” I asked.

“I just want to help,” Lincoln said.

“You’re an idiot, you know that, right?”

“Maybe.”

“You are,” I insisted. I used the waitress’s appearance to just sit there and run through the entire conversation again in my head. I struggled to make it make sense. This man wanted to marry me just so I could use his insurance. Who the fuck did that? I couldn’t understand what he got out of it. Sure, I’d get his insurance, but how the hell did it benefit him?

“This isn’t a relationship,” I said, clarifying that boundary real fucking fast. Neither of us needed that complication. But I also needed to make sure that wasn’t the benefit he got out of it. “I’m not dating you.”

“Please,” Lincoln scoffed. “I’m asking you to commit a felony with me, not date me.”

Well, when he put it that way…

“You could get in serious trouble,” I stated. “You know that, right? It’s a fucking felony, Lincoln.”

“Considering the amount it’ll cost my insurance, I could be looking at up to ten years in prison if we’re caught,” he replied. Ten years? Fuck, that was a long time. “I know. I did the research, Nash, but I won’t get caught.Wewon’t get caught.”