The Marriage Contract, Natasha Black [thriller books to read .TXT] 📗

nothing to do with it, so a big wedding would just be a reminder of how no one in her life is there for her because she didn’t obey what they told her to do.”

“I can understand that,” Jordan said after a moment’s contemplation. “What about Mom?”

“FaceTime exists, Jordan.”

“Right,” he said. “I can’t say she doesn’t have a valid point about not having people there. I can only imagine how terrible that would be to have your big day and have no one there for you.”

“Exactly,” I said. “So, you’re cool?”

“Me? It doesn’t matter if I was or wasn’t. This is your life, Matt,” he said. “But yes, I’m cool. I support you in whatever you think will make you happy, as long as it’s not something that is actively hurting you. And Chloe is a sweetheart and my wife’s cousin. So of course we’re cool.”

“Good,” I said. “Now, either come help me prep for tonight or get the hell out of my kitchen.”

Jordan laughed, and I waved my knife menacingly. He put his hands up in mock surrender and backed out of the kitchen before ducking his head back inside one last time.

“Just in case I didn’t say it before, congratulations,” he said, and then his head disappeared as he made his way back to the main part of the bar.

I was right about the night rush. It was absolute chaos from the time the doors opened. Both bachelorette parties arrived almost at the same time within minutes of us being open and were fully in celebration mode by the time they got there. One of them left before the rest of the bar really filled up, but the other one was still there at midnight when the place was jam-packed, and I was furiously working on appetizers to send out.

The chicken strips I prepared weren’t selling, but the mozzarella jalapeno poppers were flying, and they, of course, took more time to make. It couldn’t be easy. The universe just didn’t act like that.

I was in the weeds for quite some time, but eventually my line cook and I straightened things out and we had service running more or less smoothly. There was always a lull right at twelve-thirty, and I took the opportunity to sneak outside with a beer and take a few minutes to myself. I had no more sat down and opened the beer that the door opened behind me and Chloe came out.

“I thought you’d be out here,” she said. “I was coming to see you in the kitchen on my break, but you were gone.”

“Sorry,” I said. “I just needed to get a minute of air.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“How could I say no to my fiancée?” I asked and grinned. She laughed and sat down next to me. I offered her the beer and she took a sip, then made a face. “What’s that all about?”

“Beer,” she said. “I don’t like it.”

“Then why did you take a sip?” I asked.

“Because I was being polite!” she laughed.

“You are an odd duck, you know that?”

“I am,” she said. “But so are you.”

“That’s the truth,” I said. “So, are you all ready for tomorrow? Big day.”

“That’s an understatement. We’re getting married tomorrow.”

“I know. It’s wild, right?”

“It is,” she said. We fell into silence for a few moments. “I got the marriage license today.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I filed for them for us the day after the dinner. They came in surprisingly fast,” she said.

“Anything else we need for that?”

“Nope,” she said. “We’re all set. All that’s left is to go to the courthouse and have the judge sign it.”

“Are you going to take my name?” I asked. I expected her to laugh and shake her head. Why would she? This was a fake marriage.

“Hell yeah, I am,” she said, snatching the beer and taking another sip. Another disgusted face made me laugh again.

“Seriously? You want my name?”

“Not only is Anderson a better last name than Beckett, but it means I have no connection to my parents anymore. They won’t be able to say I live off their name. I will be my own person,” she said.

“Fair enough.”

“Plus, yeah, I like the sound. ‘Chloe Anderson.’ It has a ring to it,” she said.

“It does. So, you’re sure you want to go through with this?”

“Of course I am,” she said. “One hundred percent. You?”

“Absolutely,” I said. “One hundred percent.”

We both smiled, and I took a deep drag of the beer. There was only a little bit of it left, and I handed it to Chloe as I stood up.

“Heading in?” she asked, taking the beer bottle with a confused look on her face.

“Yup. Since you liked it so much, I figured you could finish it,” I said, grinning. She laughed and shook her head, and I left.

I was happy with her answer. It was emphatic and happy and real. She wasn’t just doing this because it was her only choice; she was doing it because she thought it would be a good idea. She liked me. I liked her. We could make this work.

I was happy. Maybe a little too happy. For as much as I knew, deep down, that eventually we would have to figure out how to have an amicable divorce once one of us found someone we actually wanted to date, for now, it was a great situation. Besides, if we kept having nights where we slept together, we weren’t going to have too much time to sleep with other people.

Nope. Not going to go down that route. I needed to shut those thoughts away and focus on the immediate future. Tomorrow, I was going to go to the courthouse and marry a woman that I enjoyed the company of, and we were perpetuating a lie to make both of our lives easier. That was the point. Catching feelings now would not only be unhelpful, but it would be the dumbest thing I could possibly do.

I had to push those thoughts to the side, go back to finishing