“There’s another way you can help Emmersyn.”

“Is there?” Oh… he knew Heather well. Suspicion was thick in his voice, tinged with humor. Almost like he’d been expecting another bomb to fall in his lap.

Heather nodded. I slammed my hand over the screen to block her face. Like that’d do anything, but it was all I had. “Nothing. Really. You’ve done enough and—”

“You can marry her!” Heather shouted and damn her.

Water flew straight from Kane’s mouth all over the computer screen, the keyboard, and my dress. “Oh fuck. Sorry. So sorry.” He grabbed a hand towel and handed one to me. I wiped up the water and caught Heather laughing her ass off at both of us.

“I thought I just heard my sister say we should get married.”

“I did, silly!”

He glanced at me. My lip found its way between my teeth. I had no idea what cringy look I was giving him, but his nose wrinkled.

“You’re serious?” he asked me and faced Heather on the screen. “Are you high?”

“No. It’s perfect.” Heather grinned and then it flatlined. “He can’t come after you if you’re married to another man. His dad will explain it away. Lincoln will have to get over it. I mean, what’s he going to do, hunt you down and steal you back? Please. The man fucks strippers for fuck’s sake, he’s not in the Mafia.”

What a pleasant reminder. I hadn’t even told Kane that embarrassing discovery. Finding out your fiancé not only cheated on you but also hired women for sex, sometimes only hours before you had sex with him, was enough to make me vomit.

Thank God I’d done the smart thing weeks ago and went to the doctor for an STI panel. All clean, thank goodness, but also humiliating.

“Right,” I muttered and rolled my lips together.

“Shit. Sorry,” Heather mumbled, and behind me, a warm hand pressed to my lower back.

Oh God. Kane was still there. Touching me now and breathing so close.

And right, he’d just learned my fiancé fucked strippers like some kids devour candy.

Kane, somehow, so much more stable than I was ever going to be again, settled a hand at my lower back. If he was trying to comfort me, he failed. The touch of his burned straight through my dress and I flinched.

His hand fell and he grabbed his water bottle. “Why?”

He glanced at me. Then Heather.

“I have a trust from my grandparents. A lot of money I inherited. But they were old-fashioned, and I can’t access it until I’m at least twenty-five and married.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“No, and I’m sorry. I told Heather I needed more time to ask, because it’s a lot. And it’s weird, but without a marriage, I only get a stipend to live off. And it’s enough, more than enough, but I want what they wanted me to have.”

“It’s easy,” Heather chimed in, sitting back in her chair like she was relaxed as relaxed could be. If she was in the room, I’d throttle her. “You get married. Lincoln goes away. His dad will make him leave you alone and then once you get your trust access, you get a divorce.”