Marry Me Now: An Arranged Marriage Collection

Love. It sinks in, deep.

I’ve never really been in love. I teased Dee about that, teased her for never having felt like she was in love before. But neither had I, really. I wasn’t even sure I was now, until I hear Dad say the words. I love her. I love Dee. I really do.

“I do, Dad,” I murmur.

“There you go, then.” He slaps my back once more, chuckling. “As for what I think of her, Jasper, not that my opinion matters, but—I think she’s refreshing. A much needed down-to-earth presence in this family. And your mother will recover from the shock—it’s really just the suddenness of all this that got to her, not the wedding or Dee herself.”

“Yeah, well, who’s to blame for that?” I point out with a halfhearted glare at him. I’m smiling underneath it, though. Still reeling from the realization of how I feel about Dee. Love.

“I apologize for pushing you so hard about getting a wife,” Dad says. But he’s smiling beneath that apology, too. “But it worked out, didn’t it? You’re happy now? So, really, I think in the long run, you ought to be thanking me…”

I elbow him. “Don’t get carried away, Dad. And I think you’ve had plenty of this to drink by now.” I pluck the ouzo from his hands.

He rolls his eyes. “Fine, I’ll soldier on without any thanks for all of my hard work in convincing my eternal bachelor of a son to finally settle down. But you know what I’m going to start in on next, don’t you?” He lifts his eyebrows significantly.

“Don’t even start,” I groan.

“I would make an excellent grandfather, you know.”

“Dad.”

“I’m just saying.” He smiles, and his gaze drifts away from me. Finds my mother instead. “You understand it now, though, don’t you? The desire to start a family, once you’ve found the perfect person to begin one with?”

My heart begins to pound, deep in my chest. I think about Dee’s smile. Her laughter. How perfect that smile and that laugh would sound coming from an adorable little baby like the one my cousin Alexander is toting around right now. Or on a toddler like one of Sofia’s little devils.

I think about Dee carrying my child, wearing my wedding ring on her finger for real, not a fake one, and my heart swells so hard it could burst. “I get it, Dad,” I admit, my voice low. “I really do get it, now.”

15

Jasper

Late that night, well past midnight, after the whole clan has finally stumbled to bed, I make my way back to our suite. I know she’s probably still pissed. I told my cousin Alexander the bare details, and secured a place on his couch for the night, in case this chat doesn’t go the way that I hope.

But Dee was drunk earlier, and so was I, and she’d just learned what a jerk I was when she and I first met. Besides, I have some things to tell her. Important things about how I really feel. So I’m hopeful that this attempt at a conversation will go more smoothly than the last.

But when I reach our suite and try the doorknob, it’s open. And when I push the door open, I find our room empty, the windows still open from where I unlatched the balcony window earlier, the curtains fluttering in the breeze. My heart seizes in my chest, a premonition hitting me. On instinct, I cross to the far side of the room, to where we stowed our suitcases.

Only my slim black leather bag is there. Not the hot pink wheeled and overstuffed bag Dee packed.

My stomach churns.

I turn and race out of the room, heart pounding. I scan the hallway, but of course, she’s not there. I race down to the lobby, taking the steps two at a time.

Halfway across the lobby, I run headlong into Greg, dressed in a coat and carrying car keys, which he drops into his pocket. “Hey, man, where’s the fire?” He half-grins at me. The smile falls away at once, though, when he catches a real look at my expression.

“Where’s Dee?” I cry out.

His eyebrows shoot skyward. “Dee?”

“Yes, you know, Dee, the girl I came here with, my wife, where is she?”

“Whoa, man, calm down.” Greg reaches out to grip my shoulders. “Hey, come here, let’s talk somewhere a little less…” He glances around the lobby. I realize, belatedly, there are a couple of other late-night stragglers here, other hotel guests, ones I don’t recognize. Some of the few unlucky souls stuck sharing this resort with our whole brood.

“Okay.” I trail after him into a side room, a little waiting room area for hotel guests. When we’re alone, though, I explode again. “Her suitcase is gone. Our room is empty. I need to find her; she’s never even been out of the country before, and she doesn’t speak Greek, she won’t know where she’s going—”

“Calm, calm. Deep breaths.” Greg coaxes me, and waves for my attention. “I know where she is, Jasper.”

My eyes light up. “You do? She’s safe? Take me there right now.”

“Not until you get control of yourself, dude. What the hell is this all about? First she’s freaking out, now it’s you, God, the two of you are almost as messy as real newlyweds.”

“She was freaking out because she learned that you and I pinpointed her for a gold-digger lookalike, and that’s why I decided to fake marry her,” I say.

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry for letting that one slip, but I sort of figured you’d told her the whole plan already. You two seemed pretty chummy, so I thought you would’ve let her in on all the details…”

“Well, I didn’t, okay?” I rake my hands through my hair. “I didn’t because I didn’t want her to know why we picked her. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. I thought… I thought she’d do this.” I fling my arms wide. “And now she’s run off in a foreign country—where did she go, anyway?”

“The airport.”

My stomach hits the floor. No, it passes through it, down into the wine cellar. “What?”

“She wanted to go home. She was really upset about how your parents reacted to her, and I think the stress of so many people spreading rumors about her at work was getting to her too, so I thought I’d help by…” He breaks off, because I’ve grabbed the lapels of his jacket and started to shake him.

“What flight, Greg? Dammit, just…” I shove him off. “Get the car. Drive me to the airport.”

“Jasper, it’s taking off in…” He pauses to check his watch. “Five minutes. It’s past midnight. Let’s just go to bed, and in the morning you can call her and apologize—”

“That’s not good enough,” I snap.

“What has gotten into you? I thought this was what you wanted!” Greg flings his arms wide. “You wanted a wife who’d piss off your family, well, storming off in the middle of the big reunion is just about the best possible way to do that, no?”

“I love her,” I blurt.

Greg freezes where he’s standing, arms still flung wide. He stares at me like a cartoon caricature of himself, shocked into silence for once.

“I love her,” I repeat, louder now. “And I want her to be my actual wife. Not my fucking fake one. So if you want to keep your cushy assistant’s job, drive me to the airport right now, because I’m way too drunk to get behind a wheel still, but…”

“Say no more.” Greg has already spun on his heel and begun dashing toward the parking lot. I race after him, hard on his heels. “Try calling her,” he shouts over his shoulder. “Tell her not to get on the flight.”

Oh. Duh. Drunk me is an idiot. As I race after Greg, I fish in my pocket for my cell phone. We climb into the car, and I hit Dee’s number. Wait for the ringtone.

Predictably, it goes to voicemail on the second ring. She’s screening my calls. Which, after all this, I can’t exactly say that I blame her for.

I try a text instead, which will be less easy to ignore.

DO NOT BOARD FLIGHT PLEASE.

WAIT FOR ME.

I HAVE TO TALK TO YOU.