Page 9 of Sweet Deal (Honeysuckle, Texas #4)

Jim’s words hung in the air, almost visible in their impact. Not what anyone had expected, her siblings remained silent, everyone processing the implications of the man’s announcement. Preston’s mouth opened and closed once then twice before he wordlessly dropped back into their father’s chair.

“Could you please clarify what you mean?” Jillian finally broke the stunned quiet.

“Marry Rachel.” Jim’s voice didn’t waver. “For the trust. Just like the others did.”

Except only one marriage was for the trust, by the time the other two married, it had been for love. “You can’t do that. You’re going back to California.”

Carson glanced at Garret, who in turn looked at Preston. The three brothers seemed to be having some silent conversation that excluded everyone else in the room.

“That’s not a given. Besides, lots of people have commuter relationships.” Jim inched closer to where Rachel sat.

“Halfway across the country?” She shook her head. “Who would believe that?”

“Lots of people.” Jillian quickly clamped her mouth shut and heaved an apologetic shrug at Rachel’s pointed glare. “Sorry, just saying, actors do it all the time. Live on one coast and commute to the other.”

“We’re not actors,” she snapped back.

Preston tipped his head to one side and shrugged. “So does Corporate America. One partner works overseas and the other stays home and gets the kids to school on time.”

“There are no kids.” Again, Rachel responded quickly. Her mind scrambling. Were all her siblings in agreement with Jim? Didn’t they see the problems a fake marriage with this guy, a man who could too easily work his way back into her heart, would pose?

“Why are you so opposed?” His gaze narrowed, his focus entirely on her. “Your brothers all did it. Sarah, Jackie, Jessica—they all agreed to help. Why am I any different?”

How could she possibly answer that when she couldn’t even think straight?

Carson cleared his throat. “So, you’re proposing commuting to California?”

“I have partners who are perfectly capable of running things. Remote work is a thing these days. I can make it work.” Jim shrugged as if relocating his entire life was no more complicated than deciding what to have for dinner.

“For a year?” Jillian’s tone suggested she didn’t believe him.

Jim sucked in a shallow breath and slowly nodded. “If that’s what it takes.”

Rachel’s pulse pounded in her ears. She couldn’t process this.

Jim—her childhood friend, the boy who’d skipped rocks with her, the teenager who’d taught her to drive a stick shift, the man who’d just walked back into her life days ago, who they’d once made a pseudo-marriage pact for real—was offering to marry her for pretend.

How the hell was she supposed to deal with that?

“For the trust payment to kick in,” Garret set his glass on the end table, “you’d have to stay married the full year. We’d still get a boost up front, but we’d need you to put up with our sister for a whole year to get the final payoff.”

“Hey,” Rachel burst out, “what do you mean put up with me? I’d have to put up with him!” For some reason she couldn’t possibly understand, her words made Jim smile, her brothers quickly following suit.

Calmly, still smiling, Jim nodded. “I understand the terms.”

“No benefits,” Jillian added pointedly.

“Jill.” Rachel felt her cheeks flame.

“What?” Her twin raised an eyebrow. “Everyone’s thinking it. If Jim’s going to agree to this, he needs to understand all the rules.”

“I do,” Jim confirmed, his expression unchanged.

Preston leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “Why would you do this?”

Jim’s eyes found hers again. “Because Rachel would do the same for me if our situations were reversed.”

The simple truth of it struck her silent.

He was right. If his family had been in trouble, if there had been anything she could do to help, she would have.

Without hesitation. So why was this so hard?

It should be a no-brainer. They needed money.

She’d been looking for someone to do just what Jim was offering.

Willing to make an arrangement with a total stranger.

Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to say yes to Jim.

Clearly, this decision was ultimately hers. And everyone in the room knew it, as all eyes were on her, waiting for her response.

“I…” Rachel swallowed hard. “I need to think.”

As if that was a perfectly reasonable response to a marriage proposal, even a fake one, Jim nodded. “Of course.”

“Since we’re not settling anything tonight,” Preston pushed to his feet, “my wife is expecting me to take her to the football game.”

“Right.” Carson stood as well. “If we win tonight, we’re in the playoffs.”

“Shall we go?” Jim’s gaze settled on hers. “Might be fun?”

Anything she did with Jim was always fun.

She supposed that might be part of the problem.

Adjusting to not having Jim around after college had been tough.

At first, really tough. How would she handle losing him again after a year of house play?

Maybe he was right. A night away from the ranch and the financial problems and rooting for their high school team was exactly what she needed.

“Okay.” She nodded. “Let me grab a jacket. It’s getting chillier most nights.”

Jim chuckled. “Don’t sound so excited. I promise you won’t have to put up with too much tonight.”

“Ha ha,” she teased back. Surprised to discover, despite all her concerns, she was actually looking forward to watching the game with him. Lord, talk about a woman’s prerogative to change her mind. She’d better find hers and soon.

Outside, holding open the passenger door, as Rachel climbed into Jim’s truck, their eyes met briefly. The intensity in her gaze—the fear in her eyes—clutched at his heart. Was it fear of the situation, the consequences or heaven forbid, him?

Once he’d settled behind the wheel, he started the engine and glanced in her direction. “You don’t have to say yes. I’ll help with payments as much as I can until you guys get out of this.”

“I know.” She fastened her seatbelt.

Lord help him, the next part was hard to say, “Or until you find someone more suitable.”

Her eyes flew open, and her head snapped around. “More suitable?”

“Someone you feel comfortable saying yes to.” Turning onto the road, he eased his grip on the steering wheel.

“There isn’t anyone I would ever feel more comfortable with.” Her gaze drifted away from him and out the windshield. “That’s the problem.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Understanding women wasn’t always his best strength, but right about now, he was horribly confused.

She heaved a deep sigh and loosening her safety belt, turned her whole body to face him. “I can’t think of anyone who knew me better than you did. Anyone who I felt more at home with. Or anyone I would have ever made a marriage pact with—even in jest.”

“I don’t understand. So, what’s the problem?”

Her lower lip seemed to quiver ever so slightly, before she lifted her chin and blinking once, leveled her gaze with his.

“I guess, the long and short of it is, if this crazy idea goes south, then I’d lose you forever.

” Holding her hand up, she shifted again.

“It’s one thing knowing you’re living happily in California and if I were so inclined I could grab my phone, call you, and you’d be happy to hear from me.

It’s a whole different story knowing that my calls will never again be welcome. ”

“First of all,” his grip on the wheel tightened again, “I wasn’t living happily in California, and secondly, nothing that happens in the next year could possibly ruin our friendship.

Hell,” he dared glance in her direction, “it’s only because we’re such good friends, can talk about anything, anytime, that I’m even considering this crazy idea. ”

“So you agree it’s crazy?” To his surprise, her mood seemed to shift, and a smile threatened to appear.

“Of course I do, but this isn’t a childhood blood brother pack where we spit in our palms and shake. This is to save the Sweet Ranch and everything your family holds dear.”

Turning around to face forward, Rachel’s gaze fixed on something in the distance. “If you promise me that we’ll always be friends, then yes, we can do this.”

When she turned away from him, he’d braced himself for an absolute, positive, and not a chance in hell resounding no.

Instead, he felt an odd urge to do a fist pump and howl at the moon as if this were a real proposal and a forever after response.

Stilling his surging enthusiasm, he curtailed his smile and looked to her.

“Sounds like we have a new deal. So.” Turning away, he refocused on the road.

“Let’s get to town and cheer our team on. ”

To his delight, a bright smile bloomed. “Go Hawks!”

On the edge of town, Jim pulled the truck into a spot near the high school stadium, the roar of the crowd already audible over the engine’s idle.

Friday night lights. The sounds, the smells—popcorn, grilled burgers, cut grass—were instantly familiar, transporting him back years.

It felt strangely good. Especially with Rachel beside him, a tentative excitement now replacing the worry in her eyes.

“Smells amazing.” Rachel sniffed the air as they walked towards the entrance gate, her shoulder brushing his companionably. “Popcorn is definitely required.”

“Absolutely.” Jim grinned, feeling way more at ease than he probably should be for a man who had just agreed to a marital business arrangement.

They navigated the crowded entrance, paid their admission, and immediately headed for the concession stand. Loaded up with a giant tub of popcorn and two sodas, they found seats midway up the bleachers on the home side, settling in just as the Hawks scored their first touchdown.

The crowd erupted. Without thinking, Jim high-fived Rachel, the shared moment of hometown pride feeling completely natural.

The game was a nail-biter, the score seesawing back and forth.

They cheered, groaned, and offered unsolicited advice to the referees along with the rest of the Honeysuckle faithful.

Jim found himself easily falling back into their old rhythm—playful jabs, shared glances, finishing each other’s sentences about a botched play or a brilliant tackle.

The bleachers vibrated with stomping feet as the crowd roared. Fourth quarter, tied game, and the Hawks’ quarterback had just dodged three defenders to scramble for a crucial first down. Jim found himself on his feet alongside everyone else, his voice joining the collective cheer.

“Did you see that move?” Rachel bounced excitedly beside him. “Reminds me of Garret back in the day.”

“Kid’s got talent,” Jim agreed, settling back onto the metal bench. Their shoulders bumped, and neither moved away.

Her gaze riveted on the field, Rachel nodded. “We might actually make it all the way to state this year.”

“Popcorn?” Jim held out the nearly empty tub they’d been sharing.

Rachel reached in just as the running back broke free, streaking down the sideline. In the excitement, Jim’s arm jerked up, sending popcorn flying. Most of it landed in Rachel’s hair, a few kernels sliding down the front of her jacket.

“Sorry,” he managed between laughs.

“Smooth, Henderson.” Rachel plucked a piece from her collar and popped it in her mouth. “Very smooth.”

Their eyes met, and suddenly they were both laughing like teenagers again—the kind of deep, genuine laughter that made your sides hurt. The kind they used to share before life got complicated.

“Touchdown!” The announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers, and once again the stands erupted.

Rachel grabbed his arm. “We’re ahead with only two minutes left.”

The next plays unfolded in a blur of tension and noise. The visiting team drove desperately downfield, gaining yards in chunks that made the home crowd groan. With thirty seconds left, they were in field goal range—a tie game again if they made it.

“I can’t watch.” Rachel buried her face in Jim’s shoulder.

The snap. The hold. The kick sailing toward the uprights—and then veering wide left at the last possible second.

The stadium exploded. Rachel launched herself up with a scream of joy, throwing her arms around Jim’s neck. He caught her without thinking, lifting her slightly off her feet in the excitement of the moment.

“We won!” she shouted above the noise, her face inches from his.

Time seemed to slow. Her eyes, bright with victory and something else—something warmer—held his. For a heartbeat, maybe two, the celebrating crowd around them faded to background noise.

“That we did, Mrs. Henderson.”

Her eyes widened, she slid back down, her hands moving to rest against his chest.

“Just trying it on for size,” he reassured before taking a step back. The last thing he wanted to do was set her ill at ease again.

A twinkle reached her eyes, and a smile settled in place. “That we did, Mr. Henderson. That we did.”