Free Cross Check (Marriage Contract #1) by Colleen Masters Page B

“Well. If you’re dead set on staying on at King Enterprises, maybe
you should just consider marrying the guy?”
    “What?!” I exclaim, sitting up so fast that Gigi flies out
of my lap, “Al, you can’t be serious right now.”
    “Why not?” she shoots back, “Since when are you a romantic
when it comes to marriage? You’ve always said yourself that it’s an empty
institution.”
    “I may have said that in college,” I remind her, “What the
hell did I know about marriage then, huh?”
    “About as much as you do now. You’re still chronically
single, aren’t you?”
    “I prefer the term ‘career-minded’,” I tell her coolly.
“Marriage just isn’t for me.”
    “Then what’s the harm in having a fake one?”
    “No. That’s crazy,” I cut her off, though of course the
wheels of my brain start spinning. “Look, thank you for going over the will. I
just…I need some time to think.”
    “No worries,” she replies, “And hey, I’ll keep looking over
this thing for you. Maybe I can find you a way out of it.”
    “Thanks,” I tell her, “I really appreciate it, lady.”
    “Hey, what are friends for if not getting you out of weird
corporate marriages?” she asks.
    We say goodbye and hang up just as my dad trundles down the
stairs. He likes to sleep in a little on Sundays, but I’ve been wide awake for
hours. I didn’t exactly sleep soundly after everything that happened yesterday.
    “Morning, honey,” Dad says, ruffling my red hair.
    “Morning, Dad. There’s some coffee on,” I reply
distractedly, staring out the kitchen window as I try to sort through my
careening thoughts.
    “Hey, you doin’ all right?” Dad asks, glancing over his
shoulder at me as he pours himself a cup. “You’ve been acting off ever since
you got back from the reception yesterday.”
    “I’m just…still in shock about Loudon and Priscilla,” I tell
him, which is not untrue. It’s just also true that I’m in shock about a whole
score of other things, too.
    “Grieving takes time,” Dad nods sagely, laying a hand on my
shoulder, “We know that full well, don’t we?”
    “We sure do,” I say softly, planting a kiss on my dad’s
palm.
    We were each other’s only support when Mom lost her battle
with cancer. God, what I wouldn’t give to have her here today. Maybe she, in
all her pragmatic wisdom, could tell me what the hell I’m supposed to do about
this whole mess with Jamison?
    Just as Dad’s about to join me at the table, there’s a knock
on the front door. I look up, surprised. Who could that be on a Sunday morning?
    “Probably just one of the landscapers returning something,”
Dad says, rerouting toward the foyer.
    I settle back in the breakfast nook as he goes to answer the
door. A moment later, I hear my dad’s exuberant, cheerful voice welcoming
someone inside, the sound of two sets of feet approaching the kitchen. Blinking
up in the morning light, I see my dad’s beaming face reappear in the kitchen
doorway.
    “Look who stopped by for a visit!” he says happily, stepping
aside to let our unexpected guest by.
    I freeze as a second person appears. The person that’s been
occupying most of my thoughts for the past twelve hours. Jamison King. His
insanely tall form makes our cottage look like a hobbit hole—he practically has
to stoop to make it through the doorway without clonking his head. He’s wearing
a pair of well-loved jeans and a crew neck sweatshirt, but he still manages to
look far more put together than me. I’m still rocking the tiny cotton shorts
and tank top I slept in…and my barely-clothed state definitely doesn’t escape
Jay’s notice.
    “Hey Brody,” he grins, raising an amused eyebrow at my
getup. “Sleep OK?”
    “Sure,” I reply, aping his casual tone. The last thing I
want is for my dad to know that there’s something up between us. I haven’t
exactly filled him in on the details of Loudon’s ridiculous will. “What brings
you by?”
    “Wanted to