“That’s not true. I just think it’s important we be upfront about expectations and rules.”
“But shack up? Come on, Mom, I don’t think anyone says that anymore.”
“Sorry I’m not hip and cool.”
He rubbed his face and counted to ten. He didn’t understand his mother. She had never been so unreasonable before. She’d adored Charity, had welcomed Charity with open arms. Why couldn’t she be a little more welcoming for Sophie? “You don’t have to be hip and cool. I just want you to give Sophie a chance. You’d like Sophie if you spent any time with her. She’s really a nice person, a very kind person, and while she doesn’t look anything like Charity, she’s actually a lot like her.”
“Well, I guess I’m going to get that opportunity now that she’s staying here.” Summer paused. “Just how long is she staying here for?”
“Forever.” He saw his mom’s eyes widen and he battled his temper. “We’re engaged, and we’re going to marry soon.”
“How soon?”
“Very soon,” he repeated. “A week? Two weeks?”
“Is she pregnant?”
“No.”
“You can tell me the truth.”
“Mom, trust me. Sophie is not pregnant.”
His mom shifted the cane, resting her weight on it. “You don’t have to rush into anything. You’ve only just met—”
“Don’t do this. Don’t come between us. I’m marrying Sophie. She’s going to be your daughter-in-law, the mom to my kids, and we want kids. We’re excited to start a family. I’m hoping by Christmas we’ll have one on the way.”
“I just don’t understand why everything is rush, rush. Get married soon, then, but take some time to be a couple in love. Enjoy the freedom—”
“Let’s not kid ourselves, Mom. I don’t have a lot of freedom. I’m not complaining, but I’m pretty much tied down here, and have been tied down here, for years. Getting engaged to Sophie is the first thing I’ve done for myself since returning home five plus years ago. I should be allowed to make some decisions for myself.”
Summer held his gaze a long moment before sighing softly. “So I guess we’re planning a wedding.”
“We’ll handle that, Mom.”
“No, if you’re going to get married, we need to do it properly. Can’t have people thinking it’s a shotgun wedding.”
“I don’t really care what people think.”
“I don’t care what people think, but I also won’t have them talking about you. It’s not fair to your grandfather, either. He deserves to see his oldest grandson married well.”
Joe had to hand it to his mom. She wasn’t just stubborn. She was relentless. “What does that even mean?”
“A minister, a church, a nice reception with a sit-down dinner—”
“That’s not what Sophie and I want. We want small, intimate, private.”
“Your granddad doesn’t go to church every Sunday, but he reads his Bible and prays twice a day. He’ll want to see you married by a minister.”
“Sophie and I were thinking Las Vegas, just like you and Dad did.”
“It broke your granddad’s heart that JC and I married in Vegas. Don’t do it. We made a mistake. Have your wedding here so he can celebrate with you. We’ll also want to invite the neighbors, and your brothers, of course. Sophie’s family, too. Does she have a big family? How many do you think we’d be inviting?”
“I can’t answer that.”
“Either way, we’ve got a lot of planning to do, and all that planning takes time—”
“We’re getting married in two weeks—”
“Impossible to plan a wedding in two weeks! You can’t even get invitations printed in two weeks.”
“Then email everyone.”
“We’re doing this right. We need a month at least, Joe—”
“Too long. That’s too stressful.”
“Three weeks, then.”
Joe shot a desperate look at the closed door to Sam’s room, glad Sophie couldn’t hear this, but also dreading the moment he’d break the news to her that there just might be a wedding in the works. “Fine. Three weeks, but not a day longer.”
*
Sophie could have sworn she heard Joe and his mother discussing a wedding in the hall. She tried to listen through the closed door, but the walls were thick, and the door was solid, and she only caught every fifth word, which seemed to be wedding, wedding, wedding, wedding.
Dear God, his mom wasn’t trying to convince Joe that he needed to marry her?
She closed her eyes and drew a slow breath, trying to ease the panic building. It had seemed so easy answering the ad, and flying to Montana, but since arriving, it had been anything but easy.
Things went from challenging to complicated to impossibly complicated.
Maybe they just needed to tell Mrs. Wyatt the truth. They were married. End of story.
And yet she pictured Mrs. Wyatt’s face, her blue eyes the same cool blue as Joe’s, and Sophie pictured her eyes turning glacier blue.
Sophie really didn’t want to be frozen out.
She needed Mrs. Wyatt to like her. It would be intolerable living in this house together if they were enemies.
Later that evening, she crept from her room and knocked softly on Joe’s bedroom door. He opened almost right away, wearing sweatpants and a faded red T-shirt. She’d never seen him in sweats or a T-shirt, and he looked amazing. His upper half all hard muscular planes and thick biceps, while the dark heather-gray sweatpants hung from his lean hips, revealing a flat, chiseled abdomen.
She must have spent considerable time admiring his physique because when she finally looked up into his face, one brow was lifted quizzically, and his lips were curved. “Do I meet your approval?”
“I’ve just never seen you in anything but those really stiff Wranglers and button-down shirts,” she said, blushing. “You’re quite… fit.”
“Thank you. I think?”
She rolled her eyes and stepped past him to enter his room. “You look good and you know it.” Sophie quietly closed the door behind her before turning to face him. “I heard you and your mom talking in the hall earlier tonight. I couldn’t hear everything but I could have sworn she mentioned a wedding, and you… agreed?”
“As you know, she had some concerns about you being here, but I told her it’s not temporary, that we don’t want a long engagement, and that we’re planning on being married soon.”
Sophie sat down on the edge of his bed. “That’s not really what I heard, though.”
His arms folded across his chest, drawing the faded red T-shirt higher, revealing more of his impressive abs. “What did you hear?”
She tore her attention from his body to his face. “I thought you agreed to a wedding, in a month’s time.”
“I’m sorry, I did.”
“Oh, Joe.”
“I know.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to handle her lately. She’s impossible, and difficult. I don’t want to lose my temper, and so I give in to keep from getting angry. But maybe I should just get angry—”