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About this story:
He proposed to the wrong woman. His ex wants him back. And somebody’s been keeping a secret far more dangerous than a fake engagement.
⚠️ SNEAKREADER WARNING: LOVE ISN’T THE ONLY THING DANGEROUS HERE! 💍🌹
Welcome to Marry Me, where the engagement is fake, the attraction is real, and everybody has secrets they should’ve taken to the grave.
Reader discretion advised: This dark romantic suspense contains adult themes, sensual situations, strong language, emotional trauma, suicidal thoughts, childhood abandonment, references to childhood sexual abuse and pregnancy involving a minor, family betrayal, manipulation, and deception.
Some characters need therapy. Others need a lawyer. A few need both. 😈
Proceed with caution, protect your peace, and remember: just because he’s fine doesn’t mean he’s good for you.
— Your author, Sylvia Hubbard
Author’s Notes
To be honest, I didn’t write this chapter until I woke up this morning. Kam was rolling around in my head all yesterday as I picked up my jars for canning.
My next mission for my homestead is meat. I want to clean up my freezer and all the things I bought to cook; I want to can it and make quick dinners to use in the wintertime when I don’t feel like cooking.
I know you’re just interested in the story and my thoughts while I was writing.
I was grinning and frustrated if you must know. Feeling Kam’s need to fulfill her mission while feeling Finn’s frustration and need to help his mother in her final moments was terrible. And that’s why I didn’t write until I opened my eyes this morning. I’d overwhelmed myself yesterday.
Plus, my brain was crying for a nap.
A really long nap, and I have to listen.
I get these moments during the day when I have to eat and eat, and then my brain says naptime.
I want to run to bed, but I have so much to do.
This time I listened. I don’t feel guilty, and even when I woke, I didn’t feel pressed about typing. I knew what I wanted to write and I loved that for myself.
Yet, I did want to get it out before lunchtime because I know my sneakreaders.
Also, I didn’t choose the chapter name until the end. You guys know I’m never good at chapter naming. But this one made me smile. It meant so much to both characters.
So enjoy. Please let me know your thoughts. I’d like to hear them. Really, I do. Good, bad, random. Even question my logic. I’d love the challenge.
Happy reading. Your author, Sylvia Hubbard
PS: This is the last chapter without a password, so you better go get yours right now if you haven’t. All other chapters will be password-protected. Don’t miss out on a great story.
Get your password by clicking here.
Don’t forget the companion novels.
- Her Name is Mine (WIP)
- Desire Me (WIP – Windfall Brother Series Book Three)
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Read as the Author Writes
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Chapter 3 – The Proposal to Live
“Excuse me, miss, would you marry me?”
Before she could look over her shoulder at the deep, rippled voice that grated smoothly over her subconscious, Kam saw the ring box opening at her eye level: a beast of a ruby heart surrounded by diamonds, then a ring of smaller rubies and diamonds around the silver band.
She gasped at the ring’s size and perfection. Would it have been perfect for her? Yes!
Was it a ring she wished her fiancé had come close to giving her?
Hell YES!
Focus!
Before being interrupted, Kam had resolved the world would be better without her. Staring out at the river, which she had surmised would be her watery grave, she stepped on the rail, wanting this death to be quiet, alone, and permanent.
She couldn’t swim, so she knew she couldn’t save herself. Poison or even cutting her wrist, lying in a cold bathtub, seemed a weak way to kill herself. Not in this gorgeous dress. She wanted them to find her body publicly, where everyone could see she had taken herself out on her terms, proudly and with dignity.
In her suicide note, people would know it was all her decision. The world would be better without her, but sadly they would mourn her loss even if they didn’t know her.
“Before you try to take some dangerous picture,” the deep voice behind the ring implored. “Would you pretend to marry me, and I’ll have my cameraman help you so you don’t kill yourself?”
The tone grated like butter, forcing her to lift her eyes to warm hazel browns with a swirl of sunshine, but it evoked something deep and dark. “I wasn’t taking pictures,” she snipped, forcing her eyes away from his to look back out at the river. “I was trying to kill myself.”
“Can you wait?”
His audacious response shocked her, and she almost lost her balance.
He immediately wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her against his chest.
“Wait? Let me go!” she ordered, shoving at his thick arm to release her waist.
This only tightened his grip, and with the rail between them, he held her firmly. The more she squirmed, the tighter he held.
“I have a sick mother,” he said, tightening up even further, to instantly make her stop squirming. “And she’ll be here at any moment. My girl stood me up. I’ll help you with whatever the fuck you’re doing if you do this for me.”
The intensity in his words seemed to push whatever ideas she had in her mind to kill herself right out. She had a feeling this man with the sensual eyes was not going to let her go until he got what he wanted, and she really needed him to stop talking to her because his voice was doing something to her thinking.
Relaxing her body against him, she leaned back and allowed him to help her over the rail. As soon as she lifted one thigh, he scooped her up like she weighed a pound and set her back on the riverwalk pathway.
That’s when she realized her five-foot-four frame looked small next to his almost six-foot brawn. She didnt like thick men. She learned that from foster homes.
But she couldn’t stop looking at how the pinstripe white suit looked like it was made for him and how fuckable it made him look. And this was before her eyes rose to his face.
Dear Lawd, why did she want to sit on it?
The man had the most sexy, juicy lips to die for, a strong jaw even if it was covered by a thick black beard, and those eyes complementing it, but still dark. He was the villain in someone’s story, and the one women ran away from because they knew anything he asked for would be his.
Now she understood why his fiancée stood him up. He was too damn gorgeous to be someone’s husband.
FOCUS! You’re about to kill yourself, not fuck this guy!
“Did you hear me? I said I was going to kill myself.”
The natural dark look receded for a moment to amusement as he looked over the railing, then back at her. “Those sharp rocks and cold water aren’t going anywhere. I’ll help you, dammit, if you just pretend to be my girl for a moment.” Then he took a deep, over-dramatic breath, licked his bottom lip, and added, “Please.”
Seeing a man desperate always softened her. Why did he have to have gorgeous lips to go with that silky ass voice?
Kam looked him up and down again, realizing he was dressed to propose.
“You were dropping down on one knee in a white suit?” she asked skeptically.
He looked down at himself and then down at the ground. His boyish confusion was too adorable.
Patting his chest, he reached inside his jacket and whipped out a red handkerchief. “Ah. Look!”
How the hell did he have a handkerchief? Why the hell was it red?
Was this fate? What the hell was happening here?
He chuckled proudly, more to himself, but the sound pressed on her consciousness, making her notice more sexy qualities about him.
Was he the son of Lucifer? Temptation and sexiness dressed in human form to give her one last look at humanity.
Clearly, the man had never proposed to a woman before, so it wasn’t like he was a repeat offender.
“We don’t have much time. Will you marry me?”
Kam looked around… Other people had started to gather. Was it her dress? Or the gorgeous man in the white suit? Damn, they did look good together.
In any other part of her life, she would say that it was perfect, but today wasn’t the day. Today she had told herself she was going to die.
And then she looked back at him, tilting her neck up to really look at him. The black natural hair tapered just right, smooth chocolate brown skin, the way his thick eyelashes framed those sensual eyes, strong chin to emphasize those sexy ass lips. She bet those felt just as good as they-
How did he get more sexy every time she laid her eyes in his direction?
FOCUS!
“I can’t,” she said adamantly, turning back to the railing and preparing to hike her leg back over.
He moved immediately to the side of her, placing only his large hand on her stomach to stop her from advancing. “There are fucking kids around,” he hissed. “Stop being so damn selfish…” His voice trailed off, as if he’d been caught admitting something.
Yet, it sounded so familiar. How many times had she been called selfish? It sounded like he had been about to say her name.
She looked down at the sharp rocks and water. This was the perfect place. And this sexy son of a bitch was ruining her attempt to kill herself. “Why?”
He looked relieved she’d paused her suicide attempt for a moment. “She’s dying. They gave her two weeks. I need to do something… anything. She has always wanted this for me. And I’ve always disappointed her… embarrassed her… a lot. But this… one thing I can do to make her happy in the short time she has. It’s all a fucking competition or a show with her friends and even her enemies.” He hissed a frustrated curse. “Who’s got better kids? Whose kid did this or this? I’ve done none of it. I never cared… until I realized she was dying and, for once, she just wanted to say, Look at my son.”
Kam hadn’t turned to look at him because she didn’t want to look at his lips, but his voice kept her riveted, and she could almost feel the heat of his palm permeating through the thick corset to her skin.
His words were heavy with pleading. Somewhere deep inside, she had always felt her fiancé was only marrying her to make his mother happy. He had valued looking perfect on the outside, which had driven him insane internally.
“It’s all a show,” she remembered her fiancé’s brother muttering to her when he’d been trying to seduce her in his bed.
Was this her second chance? This handsome stranger, who had come out of nowhere, was here to give her a reason to live, even for a moment?
“How long?” she asked, still refusing to look at him.
He hadn’t taken his hand from her stomach or even moved away from her side.
“She’ll be here any minute.”
“No,” Kam said. “How long do you need me?”
“Just a couple of hours,” he answered. “I’ll propose; we’ll go over to the bandstand. I have reserved drinks and will celebrate, and then she’ll get tired and want to go home. I’ll volunteer to take her, and I’ll tell her my friends will take you home. I’ll pretend to say goodbye and leave you here to finish whatever you wanted to do.”
“Kill myself,” she reminded him, glaring down at the rocks and water as if she were late for an appointment with them.
“Yeah, whatever. In a couple of days, when she’s in hospice, I’ll tell her you were yet another girl jealous of her or something.”
That sounded so sad.
His phone chirped, and he cursed again. “I’ll give you whatever you need, lady. Please!”
She knew this man never begged for anything. With a face, voice, and body like that, he didn’t have to. “I was going to kill myself. Clearly I don’t need anything,” she snarled.
“Then I’ll pay for a big ass funeral for you,” he retorted urgently.
That wasn’t a bad thought, but before she could respond, he suddenly dropped to his knees, forgetting to put the handkerchief down and present the ring to her.
“Oh fuck!” he raged.
Just like the first time, it was bright, and the clouds seemed to move away, the sun bringing out the brilliance, almost blinding her with its opulence.
Kam had to take a step back, shielding her eyes.
“They’re watching,” he hissed, those brown hazels swirling up at her. “Please,” he whispered desperately, trying to keep his expression calm, but she could see the perspiration on his brow.
Still, she didn’t speak. Her hand still gripped the rail, holding on to the mission at hand. Her lips were locked in a battle: finish what she started this morning, or help him.
How the hell had she gotten herself into this predicament?
What kind of weird forces were working for her? Or was this against her?
ANOTHER REMINDER…This is the last chapter without a password, so you better go get yours right now if you haven’t. All other chapters will be password-protected. Don’t miss out on a great story.
Get your password by clicking here.
___ *** ___
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Marry Me (c) 2026 Sylvia Hubbard. All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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