I recited their names, and she wrote them down on three separate scraps of paper, folded them up, and put them in front of me.
“Close your eyes and pick one,” she instructed.
I did, and when I unfolded it, the name on the paper was Cole Mitchell. On one hand, he was the best choice because he knew Bianca the best—she’d helped him decorate his new house. On the other, Cole was the worst liar on the planet. I wasn’t sure he could fake the amount of enthusiasm required.
“Well? What does it say?” she prodded.
“Cole.”
She smiled. “That’s a great choice.”
“I’m not sure. Cole sucks at lying.”
“We’re not exactly asking him to lie. We’re just trusting him with a secret.”
“I guess.”
Turning her attention to the list again, she recited as she wrote. “Number three: No lying to each other. Number four: No telling anyone except Ellie DeRossi and Cole Mitchell.”
“Fine.”
“Wait—what about their significant others? Are we going to expect them not to tell Cheyenne or Sierra?”
I frowned. “I guess not. But that’s it. The more people who know, the more likely it is the secret gets out.”
“Agreed.” Bianca made the amendment and studied the list. “We need one more. We have no sex, no nagging or mind reading, no lying, no telling anyone outside the circle of trust. What can we add?”
I pondered the question and the situation and came up with something. “No falling in love with me,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
Her jaw dropped. “What?”
“You heard me.” Our eyes met like swords crossing.
A slow smile tugged at her lips. “Wait a minute. That’s a joke, right?”
“I’m totally serious, Bianca. The one thing that could ruin this entire operation is if you get all hormonal and emotional, and you develop feelings for me.”
“Ha!” she squawked, kicking her feet. “Fat chance!”
“Then write it down,” I insisted, stabbing her list with my index finger.
“Oh, yes, of course. Let me get this down quickly, before I forget.” She dictated as she scrawled, “Special rule for Bianca: No falling in love with Enzo Moretti, and if you forget for one moment what a cocky, arrogant, egotistical, presumptuous, swaggering ass he is, just come back and look at this list.”
“Erase that last part,” I demanded.
“No way,” she said, adding several exclamation points.
“Look, the only reason I want that in there is because I’ve been in this situation before, okay? Where I think a woman and I are on the exact same page, just hanging out and having fun, and then she suddenly gets feelings for me, and the fun is over. She starts expecting me to be someone else, and then I’m an asshole when I don’t change.”
“Enzo,” Bianca said quietly, a ghost of a smile still on her lips. “I promise, I know exactly who you are. And I will never expect you to be anybody else.”
I think she meant it as a compliment.
But I wasn’t sure.
At the Bulldog Pub the following Friday night, Cole paused with his beer bottle halfway to his mouth. “Wait a minute. What did you say?”
“I’m going to marry Bianca DeRossi.” We were waiting for Griffin and Beckett to meet us for a few beers and some wings. I’d asked Cole to come a little early.
“When?”
“Maybe a month or so. We don’t want to rush it.”
He set the bottle down on the table with a thunk and looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “Why?”
“So that my dad will give me Moretti & Sons. You know the condition—married and settled by age thirty-five or else.”
“I know, but . . .” Cole shook his head. “Marrying Bianca? That’s fucking nuts. You can’t stand her.”
“It’s only temporary. And besides, she’s growing on me—slightly,” I clarified, taking a sip from my beer.
Cole washed down his shock with a few swallows of craft ale and set the bottle down again. “Temporary? Like how long?”
“Not that long. Maybe a year or so. Just long enough for the baby to be born.”
Cole’s eyes nearly popped out onto the table. “Baby!”
I shrugged. “Yeah. Bianca wants a baby. I need a wife. The pieces just sort of fit together.”
He continued to gape at me. “I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone.”
“Look, we’ve worked it all out. It’s more of a business deal than anything else. We have a mission, a purpose, a plan.”
“Um, that plan includes the creation of another human being. Do you know what you’re getting into? And if you guys split, you’ll still be a father.”
“I know.”
“A single father. It’s not easy.” Cole had a daughter from his first marriage to his high school sweetheart, who’d died from a blood clot giving birth. He’d raised Mariah on his own for like ten years, although he’d lived with his widowed mother until just a couple months ago. That was when he’d fallen in love with Griffin’s younger sister, Cheyenne, and now the two of them were engaged and living together in the house he’d bought right around Christmas.
“I know,” I said. “We’ve talked about all this. And I’ve thought about it. I think being a single dad sounds awesome. You get all of the perks of being a father without having to deal with a wife driving you nuts. You can do everything your way without any interference or arguing.”
“Or any help,” Cole pointed out.
I shrugged. “I’ve got a mother and sisters if I need help. And there might not be a baby anyway. Bianca isn’t sure she can even get pregnant.”
“Why not?”
“She’s got some kind of problem with her eggs,” I said, feeling kind of shitty that I hadn’t paid closer attention when she was explaining it. “And it’s only getting worse, so she wants to try getting pregnant sooner rather than later. She was going to use a sperm donor, but she said her family was totally against the idea and she didn’t love the thought of a total stranger being her baby’s father.”
“But she loves the thought of you?” Again, Cole shook his head. “This is just so weird. You guys do nothing but bicker and poke at each other when you’re in the same room.”
“We’re working on that,” I said, although it wasn’t really true. “And she apologized for the thing she said about my dick being small.”
“Well, I guess that’s all that matters,” Cole said, laughing.
“Listen, I know it sounds a little extreme, but she and I are in agreement on this. We each have a goal, and we’re helping each other reach those goals. And when it’s done, we’ll part as friends and work out the arrangements for co-parenting the baby.”
Cole did not look convinced.
“What we need from our friends is unconditional support,” I went on, a little aggravated that I wasn’t getting it. “We understand that this isn’t the way most people would go about getting what they want, but maybe most people aren’t as”—I struggled for a word—“as brave as we are. As determined. As willing to do whatever it takes to get where we want to be. We’re not getting any younger, you know.”