It Started with a Bang by Piper James

Chapter Eight

Ryder

“So, why are we here again?”

I looked up from the faded flannel I’d found on the thrift store’s dollar rack. Chase was looking at me with an impatient expression, his arms crossed over his chest. Draping the purple plaid shirt over my arm, I shrugged and started flipping through the items on the rack again.

“I told you. I need to do some shopping.”

“Yes, but why here?” he asked, obviously not willing to let this go.

“You got something against thrift stores?” I shot back.

“You’re deflecting, Ryder. What are you up to?”

I turned to face him with a sigh. “Anabelle made some off-the-cuff assumptions about me and my financial status. I’m just trying to play the part.”

“But…why? Why not just tell her she was wrong about you?” he asked.

“Because this is so much more fun,” I said, grinning as I spotted a pea-green suit on the next rack over.

Striding over, I plucked it from the row of suits and sports jackets. It seemed like it was close to my size, but when I pulled the jacket off the hanger and shrugged it on, it was slightly too big. And the sleeves were a little too short.

“Perfect,” I said, admiring myself in a nearby mirror.

“That thing is hideous,” Chase groaned from behind me.

I chuckled, smoothing the butterfly collar over my chest. It really was awful, with a leisure suit cut straight from the nineteen-seventies. And from the overwhelming scent of mothballs, it probably hadn’t been worn since then.

Slipping off the jacket, I hung it back on the hanger and checked the size of the pants. Close enough. I could cinch the waist with a belt.

“Are you really going to wear that?” Chase asked.

“Annabelle said I need a suit to wear when I meet her dad,” I said, my jaw tightening. “She offered to buy one for me, like I couldn’t possibly own one already.”

“So instead of telling her you have several suits to choose from, you’re going to wear that eyesore and embarrass her in front of her father?” Chase countered, blowing some of the wind out of my sails.

Was I being a total dick? Probably. Fuck. Chase was right. Just because Annabelle drew the wrong conclusions about me didn’t mean I needed to punish her for it.

Unaware of my change of heart, Chase went on, saying, “If her father doesn’t approve of you, this whole thing could be for nothing. She’s marrying you, an asshole she barely knows, and paying you a million bucks to appease the man’s ridiculous demands. Would you really sabotage the whole thing for a few laughs?”

“Of course not,” I said, putting the suit back on the rack with a sigh.

Before he could respond, my phone started to ring. Pulling it from my pocket, I gave him a tight smile as I showed him the screen. Princess was calling.

“Hello,” I said after tapping the green icon to connect the call.

“Hi Ryder, it’s Annabelle,” she said, and I caught a slight waver in her voice.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“What? Yes. Everything is fine,” she said, her voice stronger now.

“Okay. What can I do for you?”

“I just had an idea I wanted to run by you,” she said. “Do you have a minute?”

“Sure,” I said, handing the flannel shirt to Chase before stepping outside to talk to her more privately.

“So, I’ve got my lawyer drawing up the contract for our arrangement, and I thought in the meantime it might be a good idea for us to get to know each other better.”

“That makes sense,” I said. “If we’re supposed to be in love, we should at least know the basic details of each other’s lives.”

A sliver of guilt traced through me. Anabelle had been nothing but straightforward and honest with me, trusting me to hold up my end of the bargain, and here I was, trying to play up her first impression of me instead of just telling her the truth.

I really was being a dick.

“Good. I’m glad you agree,” she said, cutting off my thoughts. “If you’re free, I thought we could go away this weekend. I have a beach house near Galveston. We could spend a few days down there getting to know each other before we make this relationship public.”

Her words stunned me, leaving me speechless for several moments. A few days alone with her? Far away from everyone she knows? A strange feeling flashed through me, making my body burn. Just the thought of her taking off with a man she didn’t know anything about—even me—made my protective instincts go a little haywire.

“Ryder? You still there?” she asked when I remained silent for too long.

“Yeah,” I said, pushing away the uncomfortable feelings. “When would you want to leave?”

“I thought we could go Friday morning and come back on Sunday,” she explained, the relief in her voice obvious.

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay? You’ll go?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “If we’re going to sell this thing, we need to be prepared. Shoot me a text with the details.”

“I will,” she said. “And Ryder?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

She hung up before I could respond, and I stood there staring at the blank screen of my phone for several moments before shoving it into my pocket. The door opened behind me, and Chase stepped out holding a plastic bag.

Shoving it into my hands, he said, “I got tired of waiting. Here’s your flannel shirt, though I don’t know where you think you’re going to wear it in this heat.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Do you mind if we make one more stop?”

“Sure. Where to now?”

“Bull’s Eye,” I said, smiling. “I’m going to need a bathing suit and some flip flops.”

“For what?” he asked.

“Let’s go,” I said. “I’ll explain on the way.”

* * *

“She askedyou to go away for the weekend?”

I looked up at Noah, who was standing in the doorway between the ranch house’s dining room and kitchen. I was on my hands and knees, pulling up the forty-year-old linoleum from the kitchen floor, and I climbed to my feet before pulling my gloves off to wipe at the sweat beading on my forehead.

“To Anabelle’s beach house,” I confirmed, grinning.

“No fair,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re leaving us here to do all the work while you frolic in the ocean?”

“There’s not going to be any frolicking, Noah,” I assured him. “This is strictly business. And no one said you have to stay here and work. If you need a break, go back home for the weekend.”

“Maybe I will,” he replied, a note of challenge in his voice like he was daring me to argue even though I’d suggested it.

“Take Ethan with you. He could stand to have a little fun,” I said.

“Hell, no,” he shot back, flinching at the idea. “He’d have me hanging out at coffee shops or the library or some shit like that.”

I laughed at the disgust in his voice. Noah might’ve been thirty-two—older than Ethan and me and only a year younger than Chase—but he still liked to party like a man ten years younger. Night clubs, wild weekends, and casinos were more his thing, while Ethan preferred to hang out at home, reading a good book or watching superhero movies.

“So, how’s it going to work?” Noah asked, leaning against the doorjamb.

“How’s what going to work?” I asked, pulling my gloves back on as I squatted down to grab the edge of the old flooring.

“You. And her. In a house. Alone together. For three days. And two nights.”

I looked back up at him, noting his raised brow and how one corner of his mouth turned up. I shook my head, dropping my gaze back to the linoleum.

“No,” I said, simply and succinctly.

“Oh, come on. You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. You’re marrying her, for Christ’s sake.”

I refused to meet his eyes because, truth be told, I had gotten lost in fantasies of sleeping with Annabelle. Especially after that kiss at the bar. My blood hummed just thinking about it again.

But that’s all they were—fantasies. I had no real desire to sleep with her. She was a spoiled, snobby princess. I didn’t know if I had a real type, but whatever it was, Anabelle Parker was the antithesis of it.

“It’s a business arrangement, Noah,” I gritted out between clenched teeth as I tugged at the brittle flooring.

“Mm, hmm,” he said, knocking his knuckles against the doorjamb as he straightened to leave. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“I will, because that’s all it is!” I yelled out to his retreating back.

He ignored me, whistling a peppy tune as he headed back outside. I grumbled a few words like “delusional” and “dickhead” as I got back to work, but Noah’s words were trapped in my mind, playing over and over on a loop.

Alone. Together. Three days. And two nights.

I shook my head to purge his voice from my head, and another took its place. It was my own voice, calling me a liar for pretending I wasn’t attracted to my future wife. Because I was.

More than I liked to admit.