My throat closed up, eyes stinging. “Why ten minutes?”
“I’ll need at least five full minutes to be pissed, and then four for vindication.”
“Fair enough,” I rasped.
“Can I ask a question?” His tone was light. Friendly.
“Go for it.”
“Why are you here, Belle? You gave that speech at the reception, and in the twenty-four hours since you’ve been here, you’ve scared off every guy that’s spoken to you. Why suffer through this? You could be home in five hours, cutting up more T-shirts.”
“I’d be cutting those shirts into a makeshift tent for my new digs under the overpass.”
He frowned. “What?”
“My parents will cut me off if I leave.”
“Cecilia and Tobias? That doesn’t sound like them.”
I’m not the only one who realizes they’ve been replaced by pod people.
“Why are they doing this?” he asked.
“They say it’s what’s best for me.” I slipped into our old way, talking about everything and anything. “That they’re thinking of my future. I might not understand it now, but I will when I’m older and have kids of my own. You know, the usual garbage parents spout while they’re wrecking your life and pretending they’re doing you a favor.”
“Gotta admit, I’m having trouble seeing how forcing you to marry someone you don’t want to be with is best for you.” Carter crossed his arms, reclining in his seat. “I also don’t see how they’ll push you past the finish line. They can make you come here, but they can’t force these guys to propose. What happens then?”
“That’s my only way out,” I replied. “They won’t hold it against me if no one claims my hand in marriage, but if they do, I have to accept one of them.”
Carter’s jaw dropped. “And if only one guy asks you to marry him—”
“I do it or get thrown out with nothing.”
Carter blew out a breath. “Damn. That’s harsh.”
“Now you see why I have a kid, a rap sheet, and an addiction to masturbating.”
“Definitely.” Carter squeezed my hand. “Thanks, Belle. That’s all I needed to know.”
Happiness fluttered at his hand on mine. “Huh? What do you mean?” I asked as he pushed back his chair.
“Excuse me, everyone,” he called. “Listen up.”
“Carter?”
“Ladies, the question nearly all of you asked me was if I truly had Huntington’s disease.” Carter released a shuddering breath, dropping his head in his hand. “The answer is yes.”
The deluge of sympathy and well-wishes came hot and fast.
“Oh my gosh.”
“Carter, no.”
“That’s terrible.”
“I know, I know,” Carter said. “Part of me didn’t want to come here. How could I subject one of you beautiful, young women to a childless life as my nurse? I was ready to pack my bags and return home until... Belle.”
“What now?” I cried.
Carter moved behind me, clasping my shoulders. “Belle loves me. She promised that no matter how short my time is, she wants us to spend every moment of it together. For her sake, I wish I was strong enough to say no, but the truth is—”
Carter tipped my head back and planted one smack on my lips. I shrieked into the kiss.
“The truth is I love her too!” he belted over my sputtering. “And at the end of this summer, I’m going to marry her.”
“Wh—?!”
“All right!” Asher leaped to his feet, clapping and hollering, and the rest weren’t far behind.
I burst out of the chair. Grabbing Carter, I yanked him across the lawn and spilled onto the beach. The cheers and wolf whistles followed us.
“What was that?” I shrieked. “Why—”
He popped a finger over my lips. “Before you get mad and ruin a good moment, you should consider what I just did for you. You’d have to be a grade-A piece of shit to go after the girl of a guy dying from a fatal disease. Especially if that guy is me.
“You can stop with the fake stories and spreading how much you flick your bean. Carter Knight has staked his claim. No one is coming near you now.”
My jaw worked.
I attempted to find a hole in his logic and came up empty. You did have to be ten kinds of selfish jerk to pursue a girl who had dedicated herself to loving a man with a ticking clock over his head. With the guys keeping a respectful distance, I could have a normal summer.
Play football on the beach. Wander the town for inspiration. Picnics in the grove. Dips in the water. Until the end of the season brought me home and I moved on to college with no more talk of being cut off.
“Oh my gosh, Carter.” I threw my arms around him. “Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Carter held me tight, lifting me off my feet. “You’re very welcome,” he said. “When the end comes and I’m the only one on my knee, you’ll have to marry me.”
I laughed. “Very funny.”
“Did I make a joke?”
Pulling back, I lit on that familiar grin—the same that shone under the flashing lights of the winter formal.
“I hope so,” I said slowly. “We’re not getting married, Carter.”
“Then you’re choosing the underpass?”
A sinking weight made me heavy in his arms. “You’re not serious. You don’t want to marry me. You said yourself that you didn’t forgive me.”
His shrug moved me against him. “Dad says since I’m not joining the company, it’s a trust fund for me. That fund will be significantly bigger if I’ve got a wife and future family in the works. I’ve grown accustomed to a certain standard of living. I’m not holing up in some second-rate New Jersey bachelor pad when a New York penthouse, French chateau, apartment in Seoul, and mansion in South Africa all have my name on it.”
“Carter—”
“I came here to choose someone—anyone—that I could tolerate for the next twenty-plus years, why shouldn’t that be you?”
“Because you hate me!” I flung him away, stumbling on the beach. “More than I thought you did. We’d kill each other after twenty days, Carter. I’m not marrying you!”
He tsked. “Shame. Here I was thinking this was the best way to get what we both want.”
“Did you miss the part where I said I don’t want to be married at all? Let alone to some ass looking to score more money off his daddy.”
“Scratch that. It’s the best way to get what I want.”
It was everything in me not to punch the smirk off his face.
And it still wasn’t enough.
I swung. Carter jumped back and I struck a glancing blow off his chin. He staggered back, guffawing.
I jabbed at the assembled two-minute daters. “Go back and tell them you’re as fake as your disease!”
“Why would I do that? All Mrs. Desai has to do is gush to your parents about the great match you made. They’ll be waiting for my proposal and your yes. If you don’t give it, it’s you who loses everything.”