“Then what do you want?” she cried. “I won’t move in with you!”
“I get that.” A pair of pigeons scuttled between them. “I know you’re not strong enough to say how you feel about me, so I’m going to tell you how I feel about you.”
He was accusing her of being weak. Nobody did that, and she went on the offensive, throwing his words back at him. “You already did. You’re maybe a little bit in love with me, remember?”
“I only said it that way to keep from scaring you off.”
He’d thrown her off balance.
“You’re skittish about us,” he said. “You have been from the beginning, and if I’d told you the truth, you would have run. You still might, because I only think I know how you feel about me. I can read your mind about nearly everything, but not about this.”
She took a bittersweet morsel of comfort from knowing she’d protected herself, at least a little. “I’m not following this conversation, but when have I been able to follow anything you and your agent doppelgänger do?”
“I love you, Piper. I didn’t fall a little bit in love with you. I fell head over heels.”
The wind screeched in her ears, and her stomach pitched.
He didn’t move. Didn’t touch her. A chunk of her hair whipped against her cheek.
“I must have known for a long time,” he said quietly, “but I didn’t understand what I was feeling until that bastard had his gun on you, and I felt my chest crack open.”
She shoved her hands in the pockets of her sweater, not believing, fighting the lure of hope. “An adrenaline rush can make you feel lots of strange things.”
“I know all about adrenaline rushes, and they go away. My feelings aren’t going to do that.”
The bitterness of reality crept up on her. “It hasn’t even been two weeks. Give it time.”
“Can you really be so cynical?”
She didn’t feel cynical. She felt as fragile as spun sugar. She’d pushed his champion’s back to the wall, and he was fighting his way out in the only way he knew, by brute force.
“Take a risk, Piper,” he said. “I’m not Duke Dove. Tell me how you feel—the truth. Either you love me or you don’t. Dig deep. I need to know.”
She didn’t have to dig deep. But saying it aloud was impossible. Yet, if she didn’t, wasn’t she taking the coward’s way out?
She was hard-core. Hanging tough was how she lived. She shoved her fists deeper in her pockets. “Yes, I love you. Sure, I do. How could I not?” She threw the words in his face. “I love you enough not to let this go any further. We’re too different to have a future, so what’s the point?”
“The only thing different about us is our bank accounts.”
“A big difference.”
“Only if you believe money is all that counts.”
“And fame. And nightclubs. And Super Bowl rings—”
“Which neither of us has.”
“—and Hollywood girlfriends.”
“People say opposites attract. The funny thing about that is we’re not opposites. We’re the same person, different sides of the same coin.” A muscle twitched at the corner of his jaw. “Except I’m clearheaded and you’re not.”
“That isn’t—”
“Here’s what I don’t get: Why is it so hard for you to believe I could love you?”
He was trying to confuse her, and she said the first thing that came into her head. “I’m not beautiful. And you’re famous. And I’m not domestic.”
He turned belligerent. “Is that all you’ve got?”
“And your money.”
“You already mentioned that.”
A group of businessmen had spotted him and began to close in. She spun on them. “Not now!”
For once, Coop didn’t try to make up for her brusqueness with a good ol’ boy acknowledgment. He didn’t even turn.
The men shot her a few dirty looks as they backed away. She didn’t care. She’d play bad cop forever to protect him.
“Here’s what I know.” His intensity was scaring her. “Your father might have meant well, but he screwed with your head so bad that you’ve lost touch with who you are inside. It’s you against the world, and you’re scared to death of anything that makes you feel vulnerable.”
She had to fight back. “This coming from Mr. Tough Guy himself.”
“I’m stubborn and I’m driven, but I’ve never pretended to be invincible. You’re the one with the will of steel.”
“That’s not true!” she exclaimed. “I fell in love with you, didn’t I? And nothing could make me feel less invincible than that.”
“Which is exactly why you’re so hell-bent on pushing me away.”
He was wrong, and there was only one way she could make him understand that and end this forever. She’d have to go through with it. Gut it out until it was blindingly clear to him . . . and to her . . . what an impossible couple they were. She shot up her chin and glared at him. “Okay. I’ll do it. I’ll move in with you. We’ll give it a few weeks and then you’ll see.”
He drew her to his chest. “Oh, babe . . .”
She closed her eyes. Rested her cheek against his chest. Surrendered.
He clasped her face in his palms and pressed his forehead to hers. Their noses touched. He brushed the tip of his nose gently against hers. “The thing is . . .” he said. “That invitation’s off the table.”
“What?” She reared back. He’d thrown a fake. A classic quarterback fake.
“I’d trust Piper Dove with my life.” The tenderness in his eyes cut through her. “But I’m not ready to trust Duke Dove’s daughter with my heart.”
“Then what do you want?” It was nearly a wail.
“I want a legal document.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Marriage.”
She pushed herself away from him. “You can’t be serious!”
“I didn’t plan to bring it up yet. I intended to give you some time to calm down and get used to being loved. But now I see what a mistake that would be. You’re so jittery that all you’ll be doing is looking for reasons to break us up.”
“That’s not true!” It was exactly true. The plaza blurred around her, and her ears started to ring.
“You’re as stubborn as I am.” He brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “The way I see it, as soon as we’re legally married, we’ll both settle down enough to figure out how to make it work.”
“That’s crazy! Nobody does that.”
“Clearly. But these are extraordinary circumstances, and this is the only scenario I can see working for us.”
“It’s insane!”
“Probably to most people. But we’re different. So I guess you have a decision to make.”
“Isn’t it enough to say I love you?” Her words were nearly a sob. “You’re the best man I’ve ever known. Just hearing your voice turns me into mush. But that doesn’t mean marriage. I already said I’d live with you, and now you’re bullying me!”
“Kind of.” He touched her hair with his fingers. “But put yourself in my place. If you were me, what would you do about you?”
“I’d—I’d— That’s an impossible question.”
“Only because you don’t like the answer.” He tilted his head toward the building behind them. “I seem to remember there’s a marriage license office inside.”
Right then she knew. “You planned this, didn’t you? That’s why you wanted to meet me here. This wasn’t some accidentally convenient location.”
“I’ll admit it occurred to me, but only as an emergency backup plan, and it seems as though that’s where we are now.” He grasped her elbow and began steering her across the plaza toward the building’s glass front. “Don’t worry about a thing. It’s only a piece of paper. Nothing to be afraid of.”
“I’m not . . .”
“Take some deep breaths. That’s all you have to do. I’ll handle everything else.”
That’s when she l
ost her mind. Instead of digging in her heels and pulling away, she went with him. She went right along, as if she had no will of her own. She didn’t look at him, didn’t talk to him, but she didn’t run away, either. She simply gave in to his bullheaded determination.
The marriage license bureau was on the first floor, a spacious glass-fronted area with a long counter holding rows of computers. A barrel-chested clerk standing behind one of those computers spotted Coop seconds after they walked in and rushed them to a private office.
It was all a blur. The clerk asked for her driver’s license, and Coop had to take it out of her wallet. When it was time for her signature, he guided her hand to the proper line. And throughout the process, he rubbed her back, as if he were soothing a frightened animal.
With the final paperwork in hand, he led her back outside. When they reached the plaza, he tucked his fingers under her chin. “I know you’re upset. Worse than that you’re scared, and since fear is something you don’t know how to handle, we need to get this out of the way as soon as we can. I’ll handle all the arrangements. Invite whoever you want. All you have to do is show up at my place. Six o’clock tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow?” That thin, reedy voice couldn’t belong to her.
“Call Heath if you need anything before then. It’s best if he deals with you.”
“But . . .”
His face grew as grave as she’d ever seen. “I need a solid commitment from you, Pipe. I’m strong about a lot of things, but not about you. So you’ll have to take it from here without me pushing you. I’ve brought us to the goal line. You’ll have to carry the ball in.”
“But tomorrow? Couldn’t we . . . postpone this?”
“For how long? A year? Five years? When would you be comfortable enough to do this?”
She looked down at her feet.
“Exactly. The longer you put it off, the harder it’ll be for you.”
“But tomorrow?”
“I’m not as tough as you are, sweetheart. Better to get it over with and put us both out of our misery.”
“I don’t think I can do this.”
“I hope you’re wrong, because I gave you my word of honor. I said if you talked to me today, I wouldn’t try to contact you again.” His head dipped, and when he looked back up, she saw so much misery in his eyes she felt as if her own raw emotions were staring back at her. “This is all I’ve got, Pipe,” he whispered. “I can’t do the last part for you. Either you show up . . . or you don’t.”
And that was all. He walked away.
***
Annabelle had great contacts and a talent for working miracles, so Coop dumped all the wedding arrangements on her, but only after she’d made him sit through her lecture. “Marriage is a serious commitment, Coop. Not something you should do impulsively, and this is so rash . . .” On and on she went. He understood how it might look to her, but he’d never done anything less impulsively. Pipe would understand. She had to. And she’d show up, too . . . because if she didn’t— He couldn’t think about it.
He spent the next day trying to find something to do with himself until six o’clock other than get drunk. The press had gotten word of his appearance at the marriage license bureau yesterday, but he wasn’t returning their calls. Instead, he tested his recovery by running a couple of miles, then drank a pot of coffee and ran another mile. He went to the office and stared at his computer. Turned on ESPN. Turned it off. Tried to read.
Around one in the afternoon, Heath called. “I’ve got your former bouncer here. I gotta say, she’s a little high-strung. And loud.”
Coop gripped the phone tighter. “Among other things.”
Pipe shouted at him in the background. “You can’t get married without a prenup, you idiot! And a prenup isn’t something you put together in a couple of hours!”
“I’m afraid she’s got you there, Champ,” Heath said.
“You’re worth millions!” she yelled. And then, presumably to Heath, although she was still yelling loud enough for Coop to draw the phone back from his ear. “Do you see what I’m up against? He’s an adrenaline junkie.”
“She’s obviously thought about this,” Heath said. “Under the circumstances, I strongly advise you not to go any further without getting your attorneys involved.”
“Otherwise, I’ll take you for every cent you have!” Even with the phone held away from his ear, he had no trouble hearing that.
“Did you hear?” Heath said.
“Hard not to. You tell her to worry about herself.” He hung up.
***
Annabelle worked her magic. His garden furniture and potting table disappeared from the terrace. Workers delivered chairs, along with outdoor heaters to keep the guests warm against the November night chill and a wooden crate with something that looked suspiciously like a chandelier poking out of the top. As the caterers took over his kitchen, he sealed himself upstairs, growing more anxious by the minute. When he couldn’t stand it any longer, he called Heath. “Is she going to show up?”
“Not a clue. I figure you’ve got a fifty-fifty chance at best.”
That wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
The minister arrived at four thirty. Or, more properly, the “wedding officiant” arrived. Coop was a wreck.
Shortly after, the guests began to appear. He’d kept the list small, choosing only people Piper knew and would be comfortable with: Tony and the bouncers; Jada and Karah; Mrs. B., who appeared with a sheepish man she introduced as Willie Mahoney, her boyfriend. He wished he could have flown Faiza in, but leaving Canada would make her anxious. Jennifer MacLeish arrived with a happy-looking Eric Vargas on her arm.
Coop pulled her aside. “Have you talked to her?”
Jen looked worried. “Berni and I both knocked on her door, but she told us to go away—except not that politely—and she won’t answer her phone. This was not your smartest move.”
He was afraid she was right, and he tried to remember why he’d been so sure this would work.
Jonah came up to him. “You want me and the boys to go get her?”
Coop was so tempted, but he shook his head. “She has to do this on her own.”
“Risky, boss. Very risky.”
Nothing he didn’t already know.
Six o’clock arrived. The doomsday hour. Everyone had appeared. Everyone except the bride. He was crazy to have given her an ultimatum. Nobody liked being backed into a corner, but that went triple for Piper Dove.
Another five minutes passed. Then ten more. He’d have to go out on the terrace soon and make the humiliating announcement that the wedding was off.
Just then, the elevator doors opened, and there she was.
She wore a stricken expression and a short lace off-the-shoulder dress that she’d probably bought at H&M and that reminded him of vanilla cake frosting. She’d pulled her hair away from her face with a narrow rhinestone headband that showcased her cheekbones. Every inch of her was perfection. Except for those big blue eyes, which were as close to terrified as he’d ever seen.
He was at her side in three long strides. As she gazed up at him, he saw something he’d never imagined. Something so inconceivable, he thought it was a trick of the light. But it was no trick. Piper Dove’s eyes were brimming with tears.
The sight made his own eyes sting, and he clasped her hands. “Babe . . .”
She looked up at him, a single, beautiful tear caught on her bottom lashes. “I’m scared.”
He’d never loved her more than at that moment. As crazy as this was, they were doing the right thing. “I know you are.” He kissed the corners of her eyes. Tasted the salt. Understood what it cost her to reveal so much.
“You aren’t scared?” she said.
“Not now. But a couple of minutes ago . . . You don’t want to know.”
Her glossy lips trembled. “You were afraid I wouldn’t show up.”
“Terrified.”
“I couldn’t do that to you. I love you too much.?
??
The swelling in his throat made his voice husky. “I can see that. Because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here.”
She pressed her palms to the lapels of his suit coat. “I don’t know anything about being a wife. Are you sure about this?”
“Sixty percent.”
That made her smile, the sweetest smile he’d ever seen, a smile so beloved he had to clear his throat before he could speak. “How about this for a plan?” He brushed his thumb against the corner of her mouth. “Once we get through the next couple of hours, we’ll pretend tonight never happened. We’ll live together, go about our lives, and never mention the word marriage again.”
She beamed up at him. “You’d do that for me?”
“Absolutely.”
“Okay, then.”
He took her hand and slipped it through his bent elbow. “Pretend it’s a bad dream.”
“Not bad at all,” he thought he heard her whisper.
He led her across the living room to the terrace door. Together, they stepped out into his fairyland of a rooftop garden.
A softly glimmering crystal chandelier hung from the center of a white canopy swagged with dozens of strands of twinkle lights. Flowers in big gold urns showcased all the colors of fall: plum dahlias, burgundy roses, green hydrangeas, and orange calla lilies. The guests, seated in gilded Chiavari chairs, turned as they entered, and he heard more than one sigh of relief followed by a piercing wolf whistle from Jonah. Piper managed a wobbly smile. He’d flown Amber in on a private plane from Houston as a surprise. She waved at Piper and began to sing “Come Away with Me” in her exquisite coloratura soprano.
Twists of brown and mulberry velvet ribbons marked the makeshift aisle, and the chandelier made her rhinestone headband glitter in her dark hair. She was so caught up in Amber’s solo that she didn’t notice who waited for them at the front of the aisle, not until the final chorus faded and he began to lead her forward.
Her fingers dug into his arm. “You didn’t!” she whispered.
“We needed somebody to marry us,” he whispered back.
“But . . .”
The last notes of the song faded away. He cupped his hand over hers as it rested in the crook of his arm and led her the rest of the way down the aisle to the place where Phoebe Somerville Calebow, the owner of the Chicago Stars, waited to marry them.