Okay, that isn’t what I thought she would say.
I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean?”
She tosses a rock into the water. “If we stay married and pursue this, what exactly do you think that would look like? You live in Vegas, and I live here.”
“I don’t live in Vegas.”
She turns to me. “You don’t?”
“No, I have a few houses, but none of them are in Vegas. Hence the suite in the casino.”
She nods. “So where will you go after here?”
“You assume I’m leaving?” I smile, but it doesn’t seem to improve her mood. I pick up my own rock and throw it into the water. “Probably Florida. That’s where my mom is.”
“Then you expect me to move to Florida? There’s no MMA fighting stuff around here.”
I look back at the small town. It’s so different from anything I’ve ever experienced, but I like that there’s no press up here. And although on the way here I didn’t think much about how our distance would work, an idea sprouts in my head.
“I can train here for my fight.”
“What?” Her head whips around. She clearly didn’t expect that, and the fact that I surprised her makes my stomach stir with excitement.
“I have a fight in ninety days, like I said, and there’s no reason I can’t do that here. It’s not that complicated. I’m sure I could find a space to put some gym equipment and everything else I need. That way you and I can get to know one another better and see if this is something we want to pursue.”
“I already told you it isn’t something I want to pursue.” She chucks a rock into the water.
The entire trip up here, I contemplated how I would get her to agree to give me some time. Only one thing popped into my head. I don’t want to bribe her to stay my wife, but if it buys me enough time to see if this could really be something between us, then maybe it’s worth trying.
“What if we made a deal?”
She eyes me.
“You want to get that podcast up and running, right?”
Her face flushes pink and I’m guessing she forgot about telling me that. “What about it?” Her posture is still defensive, but I can tell she’s intrigued.
“I’ll gladly do it, and I can get you a few other guests too.”
“In exchange for what?” She crosses her arms over her ample chest.
Suddenly a memory of what it felt like to squeeze said chest in my hand surfaces and I have to shift my position to make room for the chub in my pants. “In exchange for giving this a chance while I train for my next fight.”
“This seems like you’re buying me off.” She walks away from the water’s edge and along the path that circles the bay.
I jog to catch up and fall in line with her. “I’m not buying you. I’m making a deal. You want to forget we ever got married and I want to see where this could go.”
She stops and stares at me. “Give me one reason why you want to see where this goes. You know nothing about me. You were drunk when we got married too.”
I shrug. “I’m letting my gut lead me here.”
She laughs condescendingly. “Your gut? Your gut made you fly thousands of miles to a small town in Alaska, chasing some girl you haven’t even known for twenty-four hours?”
“I also don’t want the press on my back. They already reported that we got married. If it comes out that we’ve filed for an annulment or divorce, I’ll have them hounding my every move and I need to prepare for the fight.”
“So you want to pretend, you mean?” Her tone isn’t one of complete distaste anymore.
I figure although it’s not the complete truth, I might as well just go with it now if it gets her to agree. “Yeah.”
It is part of the truth. I can’t focus when the press is all over me. If I hide up here and we do an interview that says we’re happily married, then they’ll grow disinterested when there’s no juicy gossip.
She’s quiet while she practically speed walks around the bend. “And you’d arrange for some other big names to do my podcast?”
“Yep, and I have a connection to a satellite radio guy.”
She sighs and stops, heading over to a hill and sitting. “You’re making it hard to pass up.”
“That was my intention.” I sit down next to her, propping my knees up.
She looks at me. “Only you and I would know about our deal?”
“I can see that you’re close to your family. But the more people who know, the higher the chance that it gets out. I’ve seen the press do some pretty shady things to get people to talk, so I think it would be better if you and I were the only ones who know about our arrangement. It’s better if everyone thinks we’re a happy couple.”
“True. I hate deceiving my family though.” She lowers her head between her knees.
And I hate deceiving her. But clearly the whole “wearing my heart on my sleeve” thing isn’t going to work with her. She doesn’t believe in gut feelings and intuition. Hopefully I’ll find out why someday because she’ll trust me enough to tell me. Until then, I’ll just keep crossing my fingers behind my back.
“But you’ll finally get that podcast up and running.”
She tilts her head and rests her cheek on her knees. I want to tuck a strand of her blond hair behind her ear, but she’d probably find it creepy.
“Okay,” she says in a soft tone. “But it stays between us.”
“Between us,” I say.
“And you’re going to stay up here and train?”
“Yeah, but first things first, you have to do one interview in Vegas with me to get the press off our backs.”
She nods. “Okay.”
We don’t shake hands or seal it with a kiss, but the deal is made. I have three months to prove to her that there’s a reason we got married in Vegas. Wish me luck. I’ll need all of it I can get.
Chapter Seven
“One last thing.”
Nikki
I’m delusional. That’s got to be the reason I’ve agreed to continue this sham of a marriage with Logan.
When I walk into the radio station office, the administrative staff all peer up at me from their computers. A few say hello, but I beeline into the recording studio to get my segment over with. I have to tell my listeners about my marriage so that they’ll continue to trust me. After this, I’m flying down to Vegas with Logan to do an interview where we’ll say we’re happily married. Such an interview is necessary according to Logan.
“Hey, Chip,” I say, sliding into my seat in front of the microphone.
“I have a whole list of questions that won’t stop coming in about you and a certain MMA fighter?” my older co-host says with a laugh.
Chip used to run the segment I do now, but he’s happy co-hosting with me—probably because I take the brunt of the feedback when Sunrise Bayers are upset at something we’ve reported.
“And I’ll answer them.”
“What about him? Is he coming in?” The only reason Chip is asking is because I’m sure he wants an autograph.