Page 21 of Stick to the Deal (Friendship Springs Romance #3)

Lord Grumpypants

“ W hat the actual fuck?” Bree shouts.

Simultaneously, Anna yells, “You did what?”

The baby startles awake with a wail, disturbing the tiny dog standing sentry by the recliner. Riley barks at Anna like she’s not the same woman who’s snuck him treats for years, and a crashing sound from the bedroom rounds out the chaos.

With skilled hands, Bree takes Nora and soothes her as she settles in to nurse while Riley jumps onto the couch between us. The screeching has thankfully ended, but both of my best friends are glaring at me as if they’d like to continue the yelling.

A very wet Colin comes flying down the hall in only a very small towel. “What happened? Is everyone ok?”

Bree keeps her glare on me as she dryly answers her husband. “Shocking news. Anna’s engaged and Nic’s married.”

He tenses, resembling one of the marble statues I used to sketch at the Louvre—all the way down to the killer abs. His eyes dart around the room, confirming his family is safe and trying to process his wife’s words. The confusion is too delightful to resist.

“I see you haven’t developed a dad bod yet, Irish. ”

Green eyes widen before dropping down. His hand flexes on the edge of the towel, holding it more securely. “I need pants for this.” He retreats back down the hall, still muttering, “and a coffee—with some whiskey in it.”

“Aren’t you the kettle calling the pot black? Giving me grief over getting engaged to a man I’ve known twenty years when you up and married a man you’ve known five minutes.”

“More like seven weeks,” I correct. Anna glares at me. “My situation is completely different.”

“Oh, because you’re a socialite and I’m a country bumpkin?”

Ouch.

The money has always been this weight around my neck.

Sure, it opened doors, and I never worried about paying my bills, but it also made it hard to trust people.

I always thought Anna and Bree were different, that they saw me and not my bank balance.

Sure, they teased me about my pretentious name and galas, but at the end of the day I thought we were friends. Maybe it was about the money.

“No, Annabel, because we both went through extensive background checks and a matchmaker.” I swallow back a lump in my throat and the heat in Anna’s eyes simmers a bit. “I’m happy you and David worked it out. Truly, I didn’t mean anything by it. Just don’t rush the fun part.”

Bree snorts. “Says the woman who’s been married—what?—a week?”

“We were going to be married in a couple months, anyway. Neither of us wanted to go through the big society event.”

“Oh, I bet your grandmother loved that.” Bree’s words send a pang through my chest. I still haven’t spoken to her since I left England almost a month ago.”

“I’m sorry, Nic.” Anna sighs. “Maybe I’m sad we weren’t there for your big day, and another part of me is sad you don’t get a love story like us.”

“A platonic partnership was always the plan, Anna, and that’s ok. I don’t want some epic love story like those books. What Reginald and I have is a partnership built on mutual needs and goals. In families like ours, that is what you need to survive.”

“Sounds so cold when you say it like that.”

“Marriage has been business a lot longer than it’s been emotion. I may not be madly in love with him, but I enjoy our time together,” both in and out of the bedroom. “Seriously, these matchmakers know what they are doing.”

“Well, ok then. Where is this ideal husband of yours tonight? When do we meet him?” Bree shifts Nora to her shoulder for a burping .

“He’s in New York for work and looking for an apartment for us.”

Anna’s brows pinch in confusion. “I thought you already had a place in the city?”

I force a smile as I answer. “Technically, my grandmother owns it. Figured we should buy our own home.”

We’ve shared everything since we met in college, but we’ve all had secrets buried from before.

My family has always been a topic I’ve avoided with the girls.

When I escaped to college, I threw my all into living as normal a life as possible.

When you’re running on borrowed time, you make every second count.

My friends didn’t even know about the trust fund until long after we’d met.

“Where does a future earl buy property in New York, anyway?”

The front door opening saves me from having to reply. “Who’s that?” I ask.

Colin appears, now fully dressed. “I called in reinforcements. Sounded like we needed to celebrate.”

A giant bearded man enters the room, his biceps bulge as he carries five boxes of pizza and six-pack of beer.

He stops in the living room doorway, eyes darting around the women staring at him.

“What? You said not to ring the doorbell.” He lowers the bundles to the coffee table, then sits on the floor at Anna’s feet, leaning back against her as they smile at each other.

Scooping his daughter up to his chest, Colin rocks the baby as he stands by his wife. Bree grins up at them as her dog crawls into her lap.

My friends are so happy and settled in their lives here.

I’ve never felt more like a fifth wheel in my life. My heart aches as I watch them all together. “I’ll go grab some plates and napkins.” Without waiting for a reply, I dart into the kitchen to settle myself.

A vibration in my pocket breaks my self-pity.

Reginald

Hey what do you think of this one?

I click the link he sent, finding a three-bedroom residence in Chelsea. It’s an older apartment building renovated into townhouses. A pretty perfect blending of classic and modern.

Me

That looks perfect. Book a showing. If it’s half this nice, put in an offer. Cash. Fast close.

Reginald

Will do. How’s it going with your friends?

Me

Great.

Reginald

I’m glad. :)

The three dots dance at the bottom of the phone and I gnaw my lip.

Reginald

So what’s your schedule like in October? Will you be in New York?

The truth is, I’m free as a bird. I’d planned to stay in Friendship Springs for the next few weeks—help out with the baby, hang out with Anna. But everyone’s fallen into a routine while I’ve been gone. Laughter floats to me from the living room, making me wonder if they’d even miss me.

Me

I could be… what do you have in mind?

Reginald

There’s going to be a new flat to decorate, and I’m rubbish at that stuff

Me

Do you forget I’ve seen your place?

Reginald

I paid someone to do that. Why pay money when I married an artist?

My stomach gives a little flip.

Reginald

Do I need to remind you of points 3 and 4 of our deal? Joint space means joint work and you owe me a week here, anyway.

Me

I’ll be there as fast as you find us a place.

Reginald

Deal. Don’t bother unpacking, Princess.

My teeth dig into my lip and I can’t stop the smile at the last line. I shouldn’t like the nickname, a delicate flower in a fluffy gown is the farthest thing from who I am, but there’s just something about it.

“Princess, huh?”

With a half gasp, I whirl, smacking Colin squarely in the jaw.

“Ow!”

“Don’t sneak up on a city girl!”

He rubs his face, but the damn leprechaun grins at me, mischief clear in his green eyes.

“That the new husband? If he calls you Princess what do you call him? My Lord?“ His eyes narrow at my silence. “No, that’s too simple. It’s gotta be something more specific. Lord Grumpypants? Discount Darcy? Am I close?”

I glare at him. “I usually call him by his name: Reginald. Occasionally, Ren.”

Colin’s face slackens. “I don’t get it. You have nicknames for everyone. Irish, Soldier Boy, Deputy-Do-Right, Pretty Boy…”

My cheeks heat. He’s not wrong. The truth is, I haven’t been able to think of one—though that Lord Grumpypants isn’t half bad. Flippant nicknames feel wrong with Reginald. “Well, he hates his name, so there’ s that.”

His intelligent green eyes study my face, seeing too fucking much, because that cocky grin slowly spreads on his tired face. Damn dimple and all. “Sure. This’ll be grand.” He grabs a stack of plates and leaves.

Fuck.