Say You'll Marry Me (Welcome to Redemption #10)

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Say You'll Marry Me (Welcome to Redemption #10) Page 8

by Stacey Joy Netzel


  Which is exactly what you are.

  On the road into Redemption, he passed Al and June coming home, and a mile later, Joy’s little red convertible whizzed past, too. He frowned in the rearview mirror. She’d always driven way too fast—probably because she could afford the speeding tickets.

  That thought kept his frown in place the rest of his ride into town. He turned onto Salvation Avenue, drove past Carrie’s coffee shop and Wilde’s Veterinary Clinic, before parking a half-block from the bank. He headed up the steps, and even though he’d left the tie at home, it still felt like it was choking him.

  He reached to adjust his hat, remembered he wasn’t wearing one, and ran his fingers through his hair instead. Three steps inside the lobby and a glimpse to his left made him want to dive behind the large fern to his right.

  “Hello, Logan. A little late, aren’t you?”

  Late for missing you? Why, yes, I am, damn it.

  He pasted a smile on his face and turned around to face Edna Persky and her sister, Millie Swanson. They each wore a scrunched up, crabby, old woman face—the same expressions they’d directed at the Walshes for years. Lucky for them, his mother had taught him manners before she died.

  “Ladies. Good morning.”

  Despite the top of her head not even reaching his chin, Millie still managed to look down her hawk-like nose at him—and she was not just peering over her glasses. “I hear you’re actually engaged.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Oh, the luck o’ the Irish,” she sneered. “Landing the one girl in town who could bail you out.”

  He grit his teeth to keep his smile in place. “I am a lucky man, but not in the way you’re implying.”

  “At least we were able to see the ring this morning,” Edna snipped. “How did you ever afford it?”

  Logan silently apologized to his mother and gave up any pretense of being nice. “That, Edna, is none of your business.”

  She drew back at the unconcealed reproach in his tight voice. “Excuse me. It was a simple question.”

  “And I gave you a simple answer.”

  “You need to respect your elders,” Millie scolded, her feathers ruffled like a disgruntled hen.

  “I’m happy to when they earn it.” He turned his back on them and continued toward the mortgage broker’s office.

  “Well, I never,” Edna harrumphed. “How rude.”

  “He is his father’s son.”

  Logan took a deep breath at Millie’s dig against his dad. The feud between their families had started before he was born, and he’d learned long ago to let their insults slide off his back. Some days it took more effort than others.

  “More like he can’t wait to sign the paperwork after his fiancée’s meeting with Brian. Back in the day, one waited for the I Do’s before spending the dowry.”

  What the hell does that mean?

  Logan swung around, but the two old women were already waddling toward the exit. He frowned after them for a moment before striding to his intended destination with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. A quick rap on the door drew Brian Thomas’ attention from the open folder on his desk. Surprise flashed across the middle aged man’s expression, and his face flushed red as he flipped the manila file closed.

  “Logan, uh, hello. Did we…ah…I don’t remember us having a meeting.”

  He narrowed his gaze. The guy was more nervous than a horse in a rattlesnake pit. “We didn’t.”

  “Oh. Okay, good.” He set aside the file, clicked his mouse for the computer, rearranged a few papers on his right, then finally linked his hands together while scooting his chair forward and leaning his elbows on the desk. When his gaze met Logan’s, his smile was as stiff as a two-by-four. “Well, then, ah, what can I do for you?”

  An echo of Edna’s words solidified the niggling suspicion in his gut into a blazing lump of certainty. Anger churned with embarrassment as he stepped inside the office. It took a white-knuckled effort not to slam the door as he closed it for privacy.

  “I came to talk to you about any other possible options I might explore concerning the foreclosure, but a little biddy in the lobby told me Joy Dolinski was already here. Is that true?”

  “Ah…”

  All the confirmation he needed. “What did she want?”

  Brian lowered his gaze. “I, ah, I really can’t say.”

  Logan strode forward to brace his palms on the desk. “If it has anything to do with my farm, you better say. Now.”

  The man swallowed hard, but met Logan’s gaze with resignation. “She’s paying off the debt to remove the foreclosure.”

  “Sonofabitch.” How dare she! “Did you put the money through yet?”

  “I’m working on the paperwork now.”

  “Stop.” He shoved away from the desk and strode for the door.

  “Logan—”

  He gripped the handle while turning to point a finger at the broker. “Don’t you dare process a single piece of that paperwork until the date on that foreclosure, you hear me?”

  “If she’s willing to pay the debt for you, we’re going to take the money.”

  Mortification burned his cheeks. “I don’t want her damn money!”

  Brian stood with a frown. “I don’t understand the problem. She didn’t want me to say anything, and you’re clearly upset, but the two of you are engaged, right?”

  “Not for long.” Logan yanked the door open and stormed for the exit.

  Chapter 9

  ‡

  Joy paused in the hallway to smooth her palms down from the empire waistline, lightly skimming them over the white, free-flowing chiffon material that fell past her hips to the floor. Not that she would tell Grandma, but it was one of two wedding dresses she’d bought. The first, she’d fallen in love with and had bought on impulse well before she met Luke. Then she’d pointed out a similar dress in a magazine to him once, and ended up with the one she was wearing now. Still beautiful with its beaded strapless bodice and filmy skirt, but not her favorite.

  And now it didn’t matter. She lifted her left hand with Logan’s ring, eyeing the diamonds and emeralds. If only—

  No! Don’t go there.

  She dropped her hand to her side and called out, “Ready, Grandma?”

  “Yes, dear.” Clapping came from the living room, along with a couple grunts from Sweet Pea. “Hurry up. We can’t wait to see it!”

  The excitement in her voice was a welcome relief. Grandpa had had a rough morning with her after the pet store, so they’d come home instead of staying in town for lunch. Even after he left to pick up a tractor part in Green Bay, it wasn’t until Joy suggested modeling her wedding dress that her grandma had calmed down. Anything wedding related seemed to do the trick these days, and with canning season no longer an option to keep her occupied, Joy would use whatever worked.

  When she stepped out into the living room, Gram swiveled to watch her round the couch. Her hands rose to cover an appreciative gasp. “Oh, my, aren’t you a vision. You even did your hair.”

  She’d run a brush through the humidity induced curls, then pulled them up into a hasty, messy twist with a few strands framing her face. The style fit the dress, along with the crystal and pearl jewelry set from standing up in Tara’s wedding earlier in the summer.

  “All you need is a veil.”

  “I wasn’t sure I was going to wear one.”

  “Oh, no, you must have a veil.” She jumped to her feet, and Sweet Pea grunted again while lifting her head from her new bed. “Let me go see if I can find mine in the back of my closet.”

  Joy had seen her grandma’s closet—the search could take a while. “You don’t need to do that, Gram.”

  “I want to. You’ll see exactly what I mean when I put it on you.”

  “You want me to help?”

  “No, you’ll get your dress dirty.”

  Her grandma hurried toward the bedrooms in the back, and Sweet Pea lurched to her feet to lumber after her.
Smiling, Joy watched the odd pair’s retreat before padding barefoot into the kitchen for a glass of water. With each exaggerated sway of her hips, she enjoyed the airy, silky swish of the sweetheart train against her bare legs.

  At the sink, she lifted the faucet handle to fill a glass while her glance through the window spotted Logan’s truck out on the road, headed toward his place on his way back from Redemption. Her stomach dipped at the thought of seeing him again, a combination of excitement and nerves after last night’s kiss and her secret mission this morning. Good thing he hadn’t gone into town sooner to spot her car parked at the bank.

  She shut off the water and took a sip. Of course, she knew she had to tell him what she’d done, but definitely not while wearing this dress.

  “Wouldn’t that just freak him out,” she murmured.

  Then her stomach flipped as she watched his truck slow to make the turn into the driveway.

  It flipped again when he drove right past the barn.

  Full-on nosedived as he parked at the house.

  “Shit.”

  Apparently she didn’t have as much time as she had hoped to figure out what to say. One glimpse of his dark expression when he slammed his truck door had her setting her glass down and hurrying outside to meet him on the porch. This would not be something for Gram to hear.

  She pulled the short train of her dress clear and eased the screen closed behind her as Logan stomped up the steps. Just in case Grandma passed through the kitchen, she sidled away from the door.

  Logan caught sight of her and paused mid-stride. Surprise flashed in his eyes, then anger returned while his gaze swept down the length of the white wedding dress and back up to lock on her face.

  “You’ve got some nerve,” he practically growled on his way up the last two steps.

  “Let me explain,” she said, careful to keep her voice low. Without her shoes on, he had a good six inches on her, and she forced her chin up to meet his angry gaze.

  “What’s to explain? I told you I didn’t want your money, and you still snuck behind my back to the bank.”

  “Yes, I did,” she retorted, defenses kicking in. “Because you’re helping me, so why can’t I return the favor?”

  “A half-million dollars isn’t a favor, Joy. It’s charity!”

  “It is not.”

  “It is. You know it. And if I take your money, the whole damn frickin’ town is gonna know it.”

  “What do you care about what people in town think?”

  A flicker of discomfort in his expression told her he cared a lot more than she ever would’ve guessed.

  “You’re one to talk when you won’t even tell anyone that June is sick.”

  “I don’t give a flying fig what they think, but she does.”

  “Exactly. Which is why I told you we do this my way, or not at all.”

  The words sunk in, and she began to see the bigger picture. Not what she’d have expected from him, but his refusal of the money made a little more sense now. Well, no, not sense, otherwise he’d let her help, but if she took into consideration the lack of money he’d grown up with, and his financial troubles now, she understood where his misguided pride might be coming from.

  Misguided being the key word.

  “Listen, I’m sorry. I was just trying—”

  “It doesn’t matter what you were trying to do,” he cut in, not in the least bit mollified by her attempt to ease the tension. “Just because we’re engaged—fake engaged,” he quickly amended, “—doesn’t give you the right to butt into my business.”

  “You’re right. And I—”

  “And you will call Brian Thomas and tell him not to transfer that money. I’ll be the one to pay off the mortgage, not you.”

  She was trying to apologize, and he was being an ungrateful, stubborn jackass. Joy crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight to one foot. “Oh yeah? And how are you going to do that?”

  His eyes narrowed at the challenge. “I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure it out.”

  Yeah, right. Short of a miracle lottery win, he didn’t stand a chance in hell of coming up with five hundred grand in the next ten days. But then again…something she’d been thinking about rushed to her tongue. “What about your music?”

  That tell-tale muscle in his jaw tensed. “What about my music?”

  His emphasis on my warned her she was treading dangerous ground. Right now, she didn’t care. “You could try to sell it. I’m assuming you have more than one song written, right? I have a friend in Nashville. I can have him—”

  “My God, you just don’t stop, do you?” He turned toward the barn, arms raised to rake his hands through his hair.

  “What?” She relaxed her defensive stance and took a step after him. “Why won’t you let me help?”

  “For one, I don’t want a damn thing to do with your sonofabitch ex.”

  “Luke isn’t the guy. I said friend.”

  “Doesn’t matter anyway, because I’m done.” Dropping his arms back down, Logan swung around to face her. His gaze swept the length of her as he waved his hand to indicate the dress. “With this…all of this. We’re done.”

  Her heart lurched in panic. “No—”

  “If I’m not helping you, you’ve got no reason to help me.”

  “You can’t change your mind now.”

  “I changed it a half-hour ago at the bank.” One more spin and he started down the stairs.

  She hurried after him, then almost tripped on her dress before bending to scoop up the train. “Logan, don’t. Please.”

  He didn’t stop.

  “Fine. Then I’m going to pay anyway.”

  His abrupt turn drew her up short on the second step.

  The fire in his eyes made her hesitate, but then she squared her shoulders. This was for Gram, after all. “Then you’ll have to keep pretending.”

  “I won’t.”

  Her vantage point a few steps above him lent her courage. “Yes, you will. That stupid pride of yours that won’t take the money in the first place won’t let you refuse.”

  His jaw was likely to break if he clenched it any tighter. His one hand on the railing was white-knuckled, and the other clenched into a fist at his side. A deep breath flared his nostrils and had her considering retreat.

  She flinched backward as he raised his fist, but all he did was jab his finger toward her. “This is why I didn’t like you. Entitled. Spoiled. Using your money to get people to do your bidding.”

  The confirmation of how he really felt about her stung. “That is not what—”

  “Save it.” He jerked up a hand and resumed his trek down the stairs with a shake of his head. “In fact, do whatever the hell you want. I’m still done. You’ve had things so damn easy your whole life, damned if I’m going to make it easier for you.”

  Easy?

  After a second of shock, fury exploded, and Joy stumbled down the steps after him. Her bare feet muffled her approach, and she took him by surprise when she grabbed his arm to pull him around.

  “You think my life has been easy?”

  He took a half-step back before his expression hardened once more. “Sure looks that way from where I stand. All you have to do is throw some money around, and you get whatever you want.”

  “Right. Now, if only Grandpa had had more, maybe my parents wouldn’t have been killed in a car accident when I was two years old. I could’ve grown up with my mom and dad instead of just a picture of them. But, you know, we got the insurance money, so life is good. Especially since it’s going to keep Grandma from forgetting her entire life piece by piece.” Despite the fuel of angry sarcasm, her voice broke, and tears burned her eyes. “And let’s not forget how it kept the man I loved from cheating on me with his secretary.” She’d made her point, but couldn’t help driving it deep. “Yeah, Logan, you’re so right. Money solves everything, and I’m living the dream.”

  She whirled around to escape into the house before the tears flowed down her
cheeks. She’d gone from pissed to shattered, and if she let loose now, she might not stop. The thought of breaking down in front of him was mortifying.

  Her feet tangled in the forgotten train, pitching her forward with no hope of catching her balance. Her heart lurched as she mentally braced for the fall, but strong arms caught her and set her back on her feet before she hit the ground.

  When she glanced up, Logan’s face was nothing but a watery blur. An involuntary blink pushed the moisture past her lashes to splash against her cheeks. His face came into focus, and the remorse that softened his brown gaze made her chest ache.

  Just great. Now he felt sorry for her. Poor Joy. Story of her life.

  “What in heaven’s name is going on out here?”

  Her heart dropped at the sound of her grandma’s distraught voice from up on the porch. She pulled free of Logan’s steadying hold and quickly wiped her face before turning to see Gram hovering outside the screen door, white wedding veil in hand, eyebrows knitted together in concern.

  “It’s okay, Grandma. I’ll be right in.”

  “It’s not okay. You’re crying, and I heard the two of you yelling at each other.”

  After a glace toward the silent, immovable man at her side, she said, “We were just… discussing some things.”

  Her grandmother’s frown darkened. “Joy Marie, I did not raise you to lie to me.”

  She swallowed past the lump in her throat, hands clasped in front of her, fingers twisting the ring on her left hand. “No, you didn’t. And the truth is…”

  Chapter 10

  ‡

  “The truth is, Logan and I are—”

  “Like any other normal couple,” Logan cut Joy off.

  Guarded hazel eyes lifted to his. God help him, he wanted to hold onto his righteous anger. Problem was, after all she’d just hit him with, righteousness had been revealed as nothing more than ill-advised, and quite frankly, petty jealously.

  Her going behind his back still annoyed the hell out of him, but seeing her grandma standing there looking so upset, he realized once again her motives were not as selfish as he’d assumed. She might be using any means necessary to get him to do what she wanted, but what she wanted was to make her grandmother happy while June could still enjoy the little things in her life. It was impossible to stay mad in the face of such noble intentions.

 

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