A bead of perspiration rolled down Cole’s forehead, probably because it was ninety-three degrees on his shady bench, unseasonably hot for May. On the other hand, he might be sweating because he was nervous. Technically, Brooke hadn’t agreed to his unconventional proposal, though she’d promised to show up at the county clerk’s office to apply for a marriage license. He’d finagled her cooperation based on the idea that she wasn’t making a commitment by simply applying for a license.
He checked his phone for the eleventh time but found no message at 3:20, twenty minutes past their appointment time.
Maybe she chickened out.
He wouldn’t blame her if she did. After that kiss last night, he was having second thoughts about his self-control around her. Her skin had been so soft. And he’d been further enticed by her perfume or shampoo or whatever it was that smelled so delicious. Not to mention the quiet moan she’d made, probably without realizing it. Luckily, she’d almost passed out. Otherwise, he might’ve gotten carried away. It was a mistake he was determined not to repeat.
It’s 3:25. She probably filed a restraining order against me. She had his cell number, yet she hadn’t called. Whatever the reason, it couldn’t be good. She was probably creeped out that he’d been inside her apartment when she got home yesterday. At the time, it had seemed like an awesome surprise. In retrospect, he could see where it might look stalkerish… maybe even controlling.
The tap-tap of heels on the pavement drew his attention, but the harried-looking, middle-aged woman hurried past without sparing him a glance. Wearing his natural prosthesis and sunglasses, and dressed without his signature cowboy hat and boots, no one had recognized him.
A few minutes later, a couple walked by, their voices raised in heated discussion. Busy answering a work email on his phone, he didn’t look up until they were about to enter the building. The woman, obviously pregnant, spewed out a string of curse words as they disappeared inside. He hoped, for their sake, they weren’t applying for a marriage license. It didn’t seem they were off to a very good start.
Not that I have any room to talk—I’m planning the divorce before we get the license, and my potential fiancée is a no show.
Then a movement drew his eye to the right. Jogging down the sidewalk, her purse bouncing on its long shoulder strap, Brooke waved. He stood to meet her, tucking his phone away.
“Sorry I’m late,” she panted, bending over at the waist. “The exit I was supposed to take was under construction, and my map routed me on some street with about a thousand traffic lights.”
“Calm down. You don’t want to overheat. It’s probably bad for the baby. Let’s get you into the air conditioning.” He tried to sound nonchalant, like he hadn’t been panicking up until the moment he saw her. With his hand on the small of her back, he urged her toward the entrance. “It’s no big deal. We may’ve missed our appointment, but we can always stand in line. This small branch office is supposed to have the shortest waits.”
“You left Shrek at home?” she asked, still a bit winded.
“You mean my dog? His name is Argus. It means watchful in Greek,” Cole said proudly. “I call him Gus.”
“Shrek is my name for your green arm. Or do you already have a name for him?”
“I can’t say I’ve ever named my body parts—biological or mechanical.” He chuckled, surprised at her lightheartedness. He’d expected her to be uptight, maybe even to cancel. “If he’s going to have a name, Shrek seems fitting. He’s a tough green guy.”
“The one you’re wearing right now is kind of boring. I think we should call him… Arnie.”
He lifted his prosthetic hand to his ear. “What’s that? Oh! Arnie says to tell you thank you for naming him.”
“You’re very welcome, Arnie. Sorry about that boring remark. I’m sure you’re a very fine prosthetic hand.”
“Thank you,” said Cole, puppeting the words with Arnie. He loved that it made her laugh. As he opened the door, he gestured inside. “After you.”
But her good mood vanished as she entered the building. She took one step and froze in the doorway, her face the color of ash. With a one-eighty, she was striding away like an Olympic race walker. Cole trotted to catch up with her, grabbing her elbow.
“Hey, it’s okay to be nervous. But don’t run away. Remember, it’s just a form—you won’t be committed in any way. And I’m not going to get mad if you change your mind.”
She wrenched her arm free and kept going, rounding the corner of the building, where she leaned against the brick wall. Her hands came up to cover her face, but not before he spied tears.
What am I doing, forcing this woman to marry me? She’s totally traumatized.
He pulled her against his chest, hoping she wouldn’t mind his slightly clammy state. This seemed to make matters worse, judging by the way she trembled in his arms. After a minute, she relaxed against him, but her tears had wet his shirt.
I am the scum of the earth.
“Shhhh,” he whispered, stroking her silky, dark hair and attempting not to breathe in the same sweet scent that intoxicated him the night before. It must’ve been something in her shampoo. “Just forget about it. Okay? You don’t have to do the marriage thing. I can afford to pay off the contract. I’ll still help you with your bills.”
“No,” she croaked.
“At least let me move you into a safer apartment. I don’t feel good about you living at that place, even with the deadbolt.”
“No, that’s not it.” She looked up through wet lashes, swiping her arm across her face. “It’s Nathan. He’s inside, standing in line… with Wendy.”
Every muscle in his body bunched up like a cat ready to pounce. He wasn’t a violent man, but he was ready to punch this guy he’d never met for hurting Brooke so badly. She obviously still loved him, despite all he’d done. He forced his clenched fingers to relax, letting out a slow breath.
“Did he see you?”
“I don’t think so.” Her eyes squeezed shut, forcing out another tear. “The worst part is Wendy. She’s big. She has to be third trimester. That means he started sleeping with her a long time ago.”
“He must be a blind idiot to choose her over you.”
Her sad-eyed, wobbly smile was a sure sign she didn’t believe him. “You haven’t seen Wendy. She’s gorgeous.”
He was about ready to declare her the most beautiful woman in the world, inside and out, just to banish her pain. But he realized a part of him was beginning to believe the superlative, and that scared him more than a little.
“What do you want to do?” he asked, forcing the confusing thoughts into the background. “You want to go home? Or go inside and make Nathan jealous? I’ll be glad to play the part of doting boyfriend if you want me to.”
“Look at me.” She stretched out her fingers, which were shaking like it was below freezing. “I can’t talk to him right now. He knows me too well. He’ll know how upset I am.”
Frustration boiled in his blood. More than anything, he hated feeling powerless. “Wait here. I’m going inside.”
He whipped around, marching down the sidewalk toward the entrance. Something snagged Arnie and held him back.
“Don’t make a scene.” She clung to his arm. “It’ll be even more humiliating.”
