The Marriage Agenda: The Marriage Conspiracy / The Billionaire's Baby Plan

“Can we stop having weddings for a while?”

She raised her right hand, palm out. “I do solemnly swear. If there is another weddin’ in the next five years, we will not have a thing to do with it.”

He leaned back in the chair, crossed his feet in front of him and tipped his beer at her again. “But what if it’s cousin Callie’s?”

“Callie is on her own.”

“You think I believe that? If Callie and that cowboy tie the knot, you’ll be planning the menu and helping her pick out her long white dress.”

“Think what you want.”

“And what about Niki?”

“What about her?”

“What if she decides to get married?”

“My baby sister is thirteen. I will not allow her to get married in the next five years.”

“Maybe Camilla—”

“Dekker. Please.”

“I think she likes the ice cream man. A lot.”

“She likes them all a lot. But they never do last, and you know that as well as I do.”

“Who’s the cynical one now?”

“I’m not bein’—” She cut herself off. Something had happened in his face, though his body remained just as before, slouched in the chair, totally relaxed.

“Don’t tense up,” he said low. “Pretend nothing has changed.”

“Well, all right.” She sat back herself, crossed her own ankles and drank from her Coke.

He winked at her. “You’re a champion.”

“Thank you. And what, by the way, is going on?”

“Keep your eyes on me.”

“Okay…”

“I heard something. I think there’s someone outside the window behind me—and don’t shift your focus there.”

“You mean—?”

“Reporters. It looks like they’ve found us, after all. But don’t say it—don’t say anything about it. Whoever’s out there won’t be able to hear much through the window, but the view of your face through those lace curtains should be pretty good, considering that the overhead light is on and the shades are up.”

She understood. Whoever it was might be able to make out her words as her lips moved—though why it should matter, she wasn’t quite sure.

Dekker said, “I want to give our uninvited guest a little taste of his own medicine. And do not start frowning. Please.”

She put on a big smile.

“Don’t overplay it.”

She toned it down.

He shifted forward, drawing his legs up and resting his forearms on the table. “Lean toward me.”

Still grinning—but not too hard—she mimicked his pose, which brought their noses within inches of each other. “Now what?”

“Now, I want you to kiss me.”

Joleen almost blinked—but stopped herself in time.

“Just do it,” Dekker whispered.

“But—”

“Humor me.”

“What good is—”

“Jo.”

That was all he said. Her name. It was enough to remind her of the trust she put in him, of what a true friend he was and always had been.

She would jump off a cliff for him if he asked her to. What was a kiss compared to that?

She leaned even closer.

And their lips met.

His lips were soft. Warm. She wondered if hers felt cool to him. And then she thought of their brief kiss at the courthouse.

This made it two times.

Two times in her whole life that she had kissed Dekker’s mouth—and both of those times were on the same day, their wedding day.

His mouth moved against hers. “Close your eyes.”

It was a most ticklish feeling, talking together, with their lips touching. She couldn’t help smiling. “Dekker, I know how to kiss.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, I do.”