Page 33 of Cherished Lands

Elliot had excused himself, muttering something about needing to go talk to his parents. I retreated to his bedroom and flopped down on the bed, nearly spilling the glass of wine I'd procured before disappearing from the kitchen. Being surrounded by his things wasnothelping me think straight. What the hell had I just done? I'd walked in here planning to handle this like a business transaction, but somewhere between "we need to get married," and "I want a proper proposal," I'd lost my damn mind.

And he'dagreed.

Elliot fucking Everton was going to propose to me. With a ring. And a speech. The same man who'd had me pressed upagainst his work bench in the barn last night was going to get down on one knee and pretend to be madly in love with me.

Only one problem: I wasn't entirely sure how much pretending would be necessary on my end.

I pulled out my phone to text Elena then stopped. How the hell was I supposed to explain this?Hey bestie, remember that guy I've been low-key obsessing over since high school? Well, I just legally trapped him into proposing to me. NBD.

Delete.

So, funny story...

Delete.

GIRL. CODE RED. I NEED WINE.

Send.

My phone buzzed immediately.

ELENA

What's wrong??

I stared at my screen. Was it even possible to condense this crazy situation into coherent sentences? This morning, I'd been a disinherited daughter, crashing in my business partner's childhood bedroom. Now I was... what? A bride-to-be?

TESSA

Remember how I told you investing in the Everton's cidery might blow up in my face?

Three dots appeared. Elena was typing. Then stopping. Then typing again.

ELENA

Oh god. What did you do??

WhathadI done? I'd practically dared Elliot Everton to romance me, that's what.

TESSA

So hypothetically, if someone needed to get married to save a business deal...

The phone rang with an incoming FaceTime. When I answered, Elena's face filled my screen, her expression a mix of horror and delight.

"Theresa Marie Belmonte," she hissed. "Tell me you didn't."

"The lawyer might have suggested marriage as a solution to our newfound legal problems."

"To Elliot!?"

"No, to his grandfather. Yes, to Elliot! And he... he agreed."

Elena's screech was so loud I had to pull the phone away from my face. "Girl! Details. Now! What legal problems?"

"Well..." I plucked at a loose thread on the covers, remembering the way Elliot's throat had bobbed when I'd demanded a proper proposal. "My father's trying to sue me over my non-compete agreement."

"Oh, that bastard."