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I go still as I understand. Something about my mother. I should have known. With all the trouble she’s caused in my life, and all the strife she’s stirred up recently, my mind should’ve gone there first.
“Oh.” I deflate, but not in a bad way. Knowing he’s merely concerned about the drama with my mother allows me to lose some of the tension that set in when he said that damned but.
“She’s determined to change the documents. Dalton just informed me. She’s hurrying her lawyers to change it all, so you’ll never see a cent of your inheritance.”
I open my lips, but he plows on, “The only way you can secure it is to be married now. Being engaged is nothing but anteing up the stakes for her, and it seems she’s determined not to lose.”
I snort. “Well, I could have told you that.” I frown. “I did. I did tell you that she’s driven to keep control of the money.”
“Which means us being engaged won’t pack much of a punch anymore.”
I shrug. Honestly, I don’t give a damn. I don’t care what my mother does. To hell with the money. I’ve faced a convoluted way to get here and know this, but I’ve found love. I gave up on the idea of marrying for love, let alone seeking it anywhere, and it’s exactly what I’ve found in Sawyer.
“I…I don’t care.” I shake my head to back up what I say.
For so long, I’ve focused on getting my funds so I could have the means to start my business. Sawyer has seen to that now, and even if he didn’t, if he didn’t have that shop space to give me or own that building, I still would have found my own way. I would make dresses and scrimp and save. With his love, I feel like I can do anything, and I’m no stranger to working hard for what I want.
“It doesn’t matter to me. That trust, the money my mother wants to keep out of my reach and control, it’s not important to me.”
“No,” he argues quickly. “That’s not right, Claire. You can’t give in and just let her win.”
I smile, leaning up to kiss him and reveling in the way his hands hold my sides in a possessive, strong embrace. “Love wins. We win with each other.”
He growls against my lips, fisting the back of my shirt as he kisses me deeply. Against my lips, he sighs and says, “No. I want you to be treated fairly. If we need to get married to beat her at this stupid, manipulative game she wants to play, so be it.” He rears back to look at me seriously. “I meant it when I said I’d give you a divorce, but I want you to know that’s something I will never want.”
I roll my eyes and thread my fingers through his hair to pull him back down to me. “Didn’t you hear me? I love you. A divorce would be the very last thing on my mind.”
He gathers me closer in a firm hug. “I love you, too.”
“I don’t want to marry you because you feel like you have to.” That would be the lousiest start of a marriage.
“I want to marry you because I don’t want to lose you. Ever.”
I beam up at him, rejoicing in his words.
“We can deal with whatever happens next—together,” he adds.
“Then it’s settled.” I lurch up to kiss his full lips with excitement and awe.
“We’re getting married,” he agrees with a wide, cocky grin.
I nod. Even if the shock hasn’t sunk in yet.
Chapter 30
Claire
“Is doing everything impulsively a French thing, or…?” Aubrey widens her eyes as we gather at the kitchen table.
“Oh, it’s sweet.” Marian bustles behind us as we frantically try to make sense of how to hold a wedding in a rush. Like less than a day, rush. Make that hours. In hours, I will be Sawyer’s wife. Tomorrow is the big day, and I am suspended between a giddiness for it to happen and a panic that we can’t pull it off on time.
Dalton was our saving grace, insisting that Sawyer and I both file for a license to marry when Sawyer presented me with his mother’s ring. My cousin’s reasoning was that my mother would doubt I was engaged just because he said so. As he expected, she sent her assistants and lawyers to look into the validity of Sawyer and I being betrothed. Having those legal documents ready helped us to hurry with this ceremony, but still. Less than a day?
I whimper and slump with my elbow on the table and my chin in hand. “I don’t even have a dress.”
Aubrey points at me and smirks. “Now that’s the definition of irony.”
Lauren swats a hand at her. “Nothing about this is ironic.”
