The Trouble With Tomboys(80)

“What—”

“Dad, what is all this?”

Tucker set his snack on the corner of his desk and lifted both his hands. “Grady, I can explain.”

“Oh, my God,” Grady breathed. “You paid her to marry me?”

“No. I…I…I just wanted you to be happy. I

didn’t think—”

“And she just...she agreed to all this?”

Tucker stepped toward Grady, but Grady shifted backward. His father froze, his face an ashen gray. “I love you, son. I would’ve done anything to help you.”

“How…” When his voice broke, Grady shook his head, still reeling in disbelief. “How does this help me?” He couldn’t believe it. He refused to believe it.

B.J. wouldn’t marry him just because—

His throat burning, he blinked rapidly as he looked down at the documents in his hands.

“Grady! Hey, there you are.”

At the sound of her voice coming from the hall, he whirled and about passed out at the sight of his wife. She paused in the doorway, all five feet and ten lovely inches of her, grinning at him as she held up 225







his briefcase. “I was walking out the door this morning when I caught sight of this sitting on the kitchen table. Thought you might need it for—” She broke off in mid-sentence, her smile slipping. After a quick look toward his dad, she turned back to Grady.

“What’s wrong?”

Grady held up the deed. “You made a deal with my dad?”

When her gaze latched onto the document, her face drained of color. She lurched a step in reverse.

“Grady,” Tucker started, lifting both hands

again like that pose could actually keep the peace.

“You stay out of this,” Grady warned with a look that had his dad freezing. “I already know your side.

I want to hear hers.”

“But you really didn’t hear my side. I haven’t actually told you every—”

“Then B.J. can fill in the blanks,” Grady growled as he stormed toward her and snagged her elbow, drawing her back into the hall and toward his own office. After ushering her inside, he let go his hold and shut the door behind him.

She stood in the center of the room, clutching his briefcase to her side, and silently watched him as he wiped a hand over his mouth and paced. Finally, he stopped short and seared her with a look. “So my father bought the deed to your airplane in order to coax you into marrying me?”

She gave a short nod, which made him clench

his teeth. He wanted her to say something to defend herself. He wanted a reason to start yelling. But the damn woman refused to oblige.

Seething, he nodded in return. “Was this before or after I gave you the ring?”

“Before,” she said in a low voice.

Pain shot straight up his windpipe. For a

moment, he thought he was going to choke to death.

When he realized he could still breathe, he huffed 226



The Trouble with Tomboys



out a short breath. “So...that whole scene where you kept telling me no and I had to seduce you into saying yes, that was just, what...playing hard to get?” Her jaw clenched. “No. That was me not wanting to give into your father’s agreement.”

“But you did anyway. You agreed to marry me.

You signed your name right here next to this X, willing to give up the baby, our baby, for what? For a plane? My God, B.J. If you wanted the plane that much, I could’ve bought you the goddamn plane.”

“It’s not about the plane,” she said, her voice breaking as she spoke.

“Then what is it about?” he growled. “The baby?

Do you not want the baby? Is that what this is about?”

“No. I—” When she faltered, looking lost, his patience gave out.

“What is this about?” he yelled.

“Will you just shut up and let me talk?” B.J.

hollered back as she wound her arm around and let his briefcase fly.

He tried to duck, but her aim was so deadly

accurate, the tote hit him square in the shoulder. He grunted through the pain and caught it against him with both hands. Stunned mute, he could only stare as B.J.’s face flamed a hot, fuming red.

Hands clenching into fists at her sides, she said,

“You...you stupid idiot. I’m getting sick of your asinine assumptions about me. You obviously don’t know anything at all.”

His mouth dropped open. She was mad at him?

Him? “Just what do you think I’m supposed to know?” he asked incredulously.

She growled, looked around her and caught

sight of a small pocket dictionary lying on his desk.

Snagging it, she chucked that next. He ducked behind his briefcase, holding it up as a shield. The 227