Page 41 of Merry Fake Bride

“Walking around New York at this time of night by yourself while dressed like that?”

“What do you mean by that?” she challenges instantly.

My lips part as I take in her thin, drenched jacket, the sopping hem of her pink top and her white pants that cling to every angle of her legs due to how much water they hold.

“I simply meant you’re not dressed for a storm, so it looks like you were caught by surprise, that’s all.”

“Oh, and I suppose you knew it was going to storm?”

“My weather app,” I say quietly, tapping the back of my phone where it sits on the armrest beside me. “So yeah.”

Her look sours even more. Not the right thing to say, it seems.

We fall silent.

Devon turns back to the window and despite the warmth flooding the car, she shivers violently.

I want to reach out to her and draw her into my arms, warm her with my body heat, but I also value my life.

Every so often, I catch Martin’s curious glance in the rearview mirror as we weave through the streets and the storm continues to pound the windows.

The wind picks up such strength that every turn feels like a fight even from where I’m sitting.

“Devon…” I try again. I can’t help myself. I want to talk to her. I want to hear her voice even if she’s angry with me.

“What?” She doesn’t look at me and instead tightens her arms around herself.

“I’ve been calling, trying to talk to you, but no one has been answering.”

“Our family lawyer advised us not to speak to you.” She flashes me a killer glare. “About anything.”

“A good move,” I remark softly as the world around us lights up with another clap of lightning. “But I have a proposition for you and I feel like it’s something you will want to hear.”

“I don’t really give a shit about how you feel,” Devon says.

This time, she does look at me and the anger in her eyes is mingling with hurt. “I stopped giving a shit about how you feel when you came to the bakery and pretended to be my friend. Do you have any idea how insane a position you’ve put me in?”

It’s like a dam has broken and everything she wants to say pours out with such ferocity that her words are tripping over one another.

“You’re killing my family’s business and on top of that, I can’t even fight it properly becauseyourinsurance paid for my broken arm, so now it looks like I’ve taken money from you and anything I do to fight you will lose day one in court. And if I refuse, then I end up with a medical bill I can’t afford and we have no choice but to accept your shitty offer!”

From her perspective, it does look like I concocted some elaborate plan to trap her from all directions and my heart throbs with guilt.

I may as well have pushed her right into the path of the car, and the swelling urge to fix things almost suffocates me.

“Devon, that’s exactly what I want to talk about. I have found a?—”

The vehicle suddenly lurches violently to the side, sending both of us off to the left.

Instinct overtakes me and I reach out an arm to protect her from the lurch but at the last second remember her aversion to contact.

Instead, I grasp the seatbelt and tighten it with my fist to keep her upright while the car swerves back and forth.

Something bangs and splutters, then metal screeches and groans before being swallowed by a loud rattle.

Martin brings us to a trembling stop and grips the wheel, his eyes wide with alarm. “Shit.”

“Shit? Martin, what’s wrong?”