As Alexandra told him, Grandma Betty figured the best way to get a Beckett to do exactly what she wanted was to tell them not to do that thing. She wasn’t wrong. Dixon had fallen first with Fiona Hartigan. Then it had been Griff’s turn with Kinsey. That left Nash—who’d been in on it since the beginning and, therefore, was immune to Grandma Betty’s scheme. Plus, he had the perfect plan to be the last man standing and not be in love—he was getting married.
“You can’t win by default,” Dixon said.
He grinned at his cousin, who hated losing just slightly less than he loved his fiancée. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
Griff rolled his eyes but took another bite of his patty melt instead of saying anything—no shocker there.
“So you’re what?” Dixon asked, leaning forward and putting his forearms on the table. “Planning on a loveless marriage?”
“The odds are in my favor,” Nash said. “Half of all marriages end in divorce.”
“Aren’t you just a little ray of sunshine,” Griff’s fiancée, Kinsey, said, her Southern drawl making it sound like it might be a compliment but it might also be an insult.
“Well, actually, I’m just being factual,” he said, dragging a French fry through a pool of ketchup before eating it. “Most successful marriages are less about love and more about each person’s needs for security and companionship being met. Love doesn’t guarantee anything. If you think about how love and lust mess with people’s heads, then it probably hurts the chances of a successful marriage.”
“Nashville,” his mom said, lifting her hand to her chest and setting off a chain reaction of clinking and clacking as her million and one bracelets clanged against one another. “Your father and I have been married for forty years, and we’re still in love.”
“Then you’re the exception.” He glanced over at his engaged cousins. “As I’m sure you’ll be.”
“Wow,” Dixon said, glaring at Nash. “What a vote of confidence.”
“Look, unlike your marriages, my marriage isn’t about love.” He pushed back from the table and crossed his arms, suddenly losing his appetite even though he had half a burger left. “It’s about getting both of us what we want.”
“And you want to win the bet,” Dixon said.
Nash nodded. “Exactly.”
Griff leveled his unwavering stare at Nash. It was a look that could make most people rethink whatever it was they were saying. His cousin’s mix of muscles, tattoos, and surly snarl that only left his face when he looked at his fiancée tended to have that effect on people. However, Nash had spent every summer growing up with him and knew him back when he was the runt of the Beckett cousins.
“What’s she get?” Griff asked.
Something that wasn’t anyone’s business. “It doesn’t matter; we’re both going into this knowing that in six months, our marriage is over.”
“This is bullshit,” Dixon grumbled.
Nash shrugged. “There’s nothing in the rules against it.”
“You wrote them,” Griff shot back.
“No one said life was fair.” Nash smirked—he couldn’t help it. “So I’ll just set up a Bramble profile and have my future wife be the first to answer it.”
“So who is the,” Bristol said, making air quotes, “lucky lady?”
Across the table, his mom gave him an appraising look as she tucked a long hair behind her ear and started off the jingle jangle of her bracelets again. “It’s Chelle Finch, I presume.”
Nash nodded.
There was a beat of silence, and then everyone—even Griff—asked at the same time, “Who in the hell is Chelle Finch?”
Acknowledgments
Thinking up a book is the easy part. The hard part is yanking it word by word out of your head and onto the page. It would be pretty unbearable if I wasn’t surrounded by amazing people who make that process seem like fun. A huge thank you to the entire Entangled team, my editor Liz, Stacy the copyediting genius and a million other folks who make this all happen (special shout outs to Jessica, Rikki, Amy and Bree). Thank you!!! Another huge thank you goes to my family who are used to me mumbling to myself and speed typing while holding conversations with people who don’t exist off the page. I’m sure they’ll have lots of “you think your mom is weird” stories to tell their friends at parties. And, of course, none of this would happen if it wasn’t for the readers who have fallen in love with the people of Harbor City right there with me. Thank you for reading. Thank you for leaving your honest reviews. Thank you for being a part of Romancelandia where happy endings are guaranteed.
Xoxo,
Avery
About the Author
USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling romance author Avery Flynn has three slightly wild children, loves a hockey-addicted husband, and is desperately hoping someone invents the coffee IV drip. She lives with her family (including the dogs Gravy, Pepper, Tater Tot, and Eggnog, who are either sleeping or guarding the house from squirrels as well as the cat, Dwight, who is totally plotting world domination) outside of Washington, D.C. She loves to chat with readers. You can email her at [email protected] and join her reader group, The Flynnbots, on Facebook!
averyflynn.com
Also by Avery Flynn
The Harbor City Series
The Negotiator
The Charmer
The Schemer
The Hartigans Series
Butterface
Muffin Top
Tomboy
The Ice Knights Series
Parental Guidance
Awk-weird
Loud Mouth
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