KING: Las Vegas Bad Boys(71)
“No,” I say, needing to clarify. “She’s still in England. I came over on my own, because I wanted to speak with you.”
“Me?” She laughs. “What do I have to do with anything?”
Behind her, I see a flash of blonde hair and a small girl calling for her Gram.
“Gram, come back, come play,” the girl calls from down the hall.
Sophia.
I didn’t see her face, or meet her, but her voice proves she is in fact real. Really Claire’s daughter.
I swallow. If I’m going to do this, I need to do it now. No second-guessing. No hesitation.
“Could I speak with you a moment?” I ask Eva. “Privately?”
“Give me a minute, okay? I’ll get Sophia on a show.” Eva turns back into the condo, and I hear her helping Sophia with the television.
She returns after a moment. “Bubble Guppies.” She shrugs as if I have any clue what those words mean. “She’s obsessed with the show.”
I nod, now understanding. Knowing I have an awful lot to learn, if Claire will have me.
“You have me worried,” Eva says, keeping the door slightly ajar and stepping out of the house. “Is everything okay, truly?”
“Everything is more than fine. The truth is, I’ve fallen in love with your daughter. Completely. And she’s in love with me.”
Eva lets out a small humph, as if completely taken back. Which I’m sure she is.
“Claire, and you. In love?”
“Is it so impossible to believe?”
“Well, sort of. I mean, it’s Claire. She doesn’t do relationships.”
“I want to marry her.”
At this, Eva shakes her head, arms crossed.
“Does Claire know you’re here?” When I shake my head, she adds, “Has she spoken to you about getting married?”
Not wanting to tell her about the fake engagement, I shake my head again. We haven’t spoken about getting married for real. Only the fake double wedding.
“Listen, if you love Claire, and Claire really loves you ... I think you could talk to her about getting married yourself. Not me.”
“I know. Of course I’ll talk to Claire, ask her properly. But the thing is, I came back to Vegas to get some business in order, and I thought coming to you would be a thoughtful gesture. I know how much her family means to her.”
“Right,” Eva says uncomfortably, waving her hands in front of her. “Well, the thing is, you can’t marry Claire.”
“Of course I can,” I say defensively. Always so fucking defensive.
I just want someone to say yes, you can. You can do this. Instead it’s always that I’m not bloody enough. I’m tired if it.
“I’m capable of being her husband, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m going to go get myself a bloody house right after this. I’m closing on an investment property for a proper business. I can take care of her and Sophia. I can do this.”
Eva face softens, and she presses her hand to my arm. “Oh, sweetie, I didn’t say you weren’t capable of being her partner. You seem nice, and you certainly seem to love my daughter. Which is everything I want for her.”
“Then why? Why can’t I marry her?”
“Because, Landon. Claire is already married.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Landon
Her words hit me in in the chest. Hard.
Claire is fucking married?
“What are you talking about?” I ask Claire’s mom, Eva.
We’re standing outside her condo, and she has a pained expression on her face—which is a hell of a lot better than the expression on my face.
I want to hit something. Now.
“I’m sorry. I wish she would have told you, but she doesn’t talk about it. Ever. With me, or with anyone.”
“I don’t understand.” My patience in thin—not with Eva, with the situation. I need more information, faster. “You’re screwing with me, right? This is some American joke?”
“I wish it were, Landon.” She sighs, arms crossed and she shakes her head. “Look, maybe you should come inside, so we can talk properly.”
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“It’s not intruding. Sophia is fine; she’s watching her shows. Come in, have a cup of coffee, and we can talk.’
“My friends are in the car,” I tell her. “Let me tell them I’ll be a while.”
“Oh, for heavens sake, get them in the house. Don’t be rude,” Eva scolds, just like my mother would.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And don’t ma’am me, either. I’m only forty-nine.”
I run my hands through my hair, trying to breathe. “I should call Claire.”