her. “Do you have another solution?”
“Not yet,” she said. She’d figure something out, though. She always did. “Give me a few days.”
He shook his head. “With Maverick on the loose, we might not have the luxury of a few days.”
She blew out a long breath, considering the factors. “Okay, give me twenty-four hours.”
“Sure. I can do that,” he said and signaled the waiter.
The short moment of relief that his agreement granted her soon faded as she realized that she had one day to achieve the near impossible.
Pushing that thought aside, she picked up her handbag and squared her shoulders, ready to meet the challenge head on.
By the next afternoon, after looking at the situation from every angle, Harper had to concede that Nick’s plan was the only option that addressed all of their issues. If she moved to Connecticut, her mother would give her the support she wanted, and they’d form a little family unit—the twins, their mom and their grandma. But it would make Nick look bad in his case for shared custody of Ellie. She couldn’t make a decision that solely benefited her babies and threw their half sister and father under the bus. It would also risk the reputation of Tate Armor, and not just for Nick’s sake—she’d worked there for years and had a lot of loyalty to the company, to Malcolm and to the staff.
She’d brainstormed, even tried to match various smaller plans together to achieve the outcomes, but it seemed only Nick’s plan would deliver on all fronts.
Her heart had been heavy since the realization had dawned. Marrying a man she didn’t love, a virtual stranger, simply wasn’t the path she’d dreamed her life would take, even if he did make her pulse race every time she saw him. Or thought of him.
As she listened to the ringtone, waiting for Nick to answer, her brain was still frantically trying to come up with an alternative.
“Harper.” His smooth, deep voice sent a wave of heat over her skin. “Have you made a decision?”
As no alternative had presented itself in the last thirty seconds, she closed her eyes and faced her fate. “I think you’re right. Getting married is the best option we have.”
He blew out a breath. “Thank you. And I’ll do my best to ensure you don’t regret this.”
She appreciated the sentiment, but she had a feeling she’d just stepped into something that was bigger than both of them.
“I have a few contacts at city hall,” she said, “so I’ll see what I can do about fast-tracking our license just in case Maverick is on the scent.”
“Good idea. Hang on.” In the background she heard a door opening and closing before Nick spoke again. “Have you given any thought to when you’d like to move in?”
She needed some time to steel herself, but since part of the reason they were doing this was for appearances, she couldn’t move in with him any later than their wedding day. “I’ll need to take a day of vacation leave for the wedding, so we could do it then.”
“Sure,” he said. “That suits me.”
They’d touched on the length of their marriage last night, and although it was a discussion she’d rather have face-to-face, she was unlikely to see him before the wedding—especially if she managed to speed up their license—and she’d rather they agreed before vows were exchanged.
“I was thinking, too,” she said, “about how long we should commit to being married.”
“And what did you come up with?”
“The five years you suggested is reasonable. I can’t imagine I’ll have any energy to date with two tiny humans at home, anyway.” And it was hard to imagine any man affecting her the way Nick did with only a look. In fact, he might have ruined her for other men for life.
“Good to know I won’t be cramping your style,” he said, heavy on the sarcasm, along with a note of something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
“That gives the babies a solid five years with us together, so they’ll have a strong relationship with both of us.”
“And,” he added, his voice confident, “as long as we handle the divorce well, it shouldn’t impact them too much.”
She looked up at the ceiling. Nick was probably being overly optimistic, but she’d definitely do her best to make the transition seamless.
She paced from her kitchen through to her dining room. There was one other issue they hadn’t agreed on—their love life. Nick had said at dinner that he was open to the idea of a consummated marriage, and then their meals had arrived, so she’d been saved from having to give her view. She’d thought about it since, but she still didn’t know what she wanted. Correction. She knew she wanted him, but she wasn’t sure an active love life in a relationship they were trying to keep practical was wise. She waited a beat, wondering if he’d raise the topic, but either he thought it was decided, or he was waiting for her.
And instead of facing how they’d handle one of the most important aspects of marriage head-on—and despite Nick’s view of her as someone who didn’t back down from anyone or anything—she let it go. They’d already agreed to marry, so it wouldn’t change things now. After the wedding? They could play it by ear.
So she simply said, “I’ll let you know when I have any information about the license.”
“Till then,” he said and disconnected the call.
Harper kept the cell in her hand an extra minute, wondering why she’d flaked from discussing their potential love life.
And, more importantly, what she would decide to do once she was finally confronted with the option of having Nick Tate in her bed.
* * *
Friday morning Nick arrived at his own wedding at city hall, hoping like all hell that his bride would turn up. She’d agreed to the plan, but reluctantly, so he wouldn’t have been completely surprised if she’d changed her mind.
Harper had managed to fast-track their civil ceremony and had phoned earlier in the week to share details, but it had been a short call. Just the details.
His gut had been in knots all morning thinking about whether she’d changed her mind. He’d shot off a text saying, Everything okay for today? and she’d replied Yes, which was somewhat reassuring, but he wouldn’t relax until the vows were said and his ring was on her finger.
Squaring his shoulders, he walked into the small, carpeted waiting room and found her there, looking elegant, and his entire body practically sighed in relief. She wore a knee-length dove-gray skirt with a white silk blouse, her hair fell in dark, glossy waves down her back and her lips were painted a soft pink. He’d never seen anyone more beautiful.
“Late to your own wedding?” said a familiar voice beside him. Nick scowled at the interruption and turned to his brother, who was making a mock-concerned face. “Gee,
