Page 33 of Silver Foxed

With a soft giggle, she stands, tugging her already half-off bikini top from her breasts so she’s fully nude and on display for me.

“Then it will be a good death.” She winks before running toward the lake, laughter trailing behind her as she splashes into the clear blue waters. “Come in! I promise I’ll protect you from lake sharks, dear husband!”

I roll my eyes, but I get up and follow her into the water anyway. Because I’m realizing there’s nothing I could deny Alex Martin. Not even at the risk of chafing sand and lake sharks.

Chapter fifteen

Alex

“Oh my god!” I moan.

Elijah chuckles, his thumb pressing into the arch of my foot. “Feel good?”

I flop my head back against the couch and moan again. “Feel good? You’re a master foot massager.”

He digs his thumb in again. “Maybe I should make a career change.”

My eyes connect with his sparkling blue ones, and for a moment, I’m stunned at how different he looks in such a short amount of time. The man I met yesterday was stressed, tense, and looked older. Not in a harsh way, in the way most people look when they’re tired and overworked.

But this man in front of me is the opposite. No longer is the pinch in his brow permanent. He’s relaxed, and his shoulders are even less tense. He looks well-rested despite our lack of sleep since last night, though we did take a short nap wrapped up together once we got back from the beach. I fell asleep almost immediately when my head hit the pillow, his warm chest pressed against my back. It was…wonderful. A feeling I could get used to.

Elijah grins, pushing some of his silver hair off his forehead. It’s usually styled, but since we weren’t planning on leaving the house, he left it a little shaggy after our shower. It’s sexy as hell, and I can’t stop myself from staring at him. Especially now that his skin is sun-kissed and he looks so…happy.

“Do I have some of your delicious dinner on my face?” he asks after another beat of me staring, referring to the steaks I made us.

I shake my head, his smile and compliment causing my heart to race. “No. I was just thinking that you may not like the beach, but the beach sure likes you. You’re glowing.”

His lips purse. “I’m not going to turn into a California beach boy, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“I would never suggest that of you, Mr. Serious.”

He tickles my feet, and I squeal, trying to pull from his grasp. He laughs at my futile attempts and continues to tickle me until I can’t take it anymore.

“Uncle!” I cry playfully, kicking at him.

He grabs my legs to stop my flailing but gives into my pleas.

“Spoilsport,” he chuffs before motioning for me to tuck into his side instead. I glare at him playfully but give in easily to his request, wanting to be closer to him. I shift myself so I can move under his open arm and rest my head on his shoulder. When I’m settled, he kisses the crown of my head. The simple action melts my insides, and I let my mind imagine that this is real. That Elijah is really my husband and this is our house.

I stare blankly at the television screen in front of us. A romantic comedy we haven’t been paying attention to is playing softly. On the screen, a man is proposing to a woman, confessing his love for her.

“Do you think you’ll get married again?” I ask Elijah, not really thinking of the words that just came out of my mouth.

His hand stops moving on my arm, and I dare to look into his eyes. I find myself stupidly worried about what I’ll see there. I shouldn’t care either way—I know this is supposed to be a one-weekend thing. I was the one who suggested it. But I wonder what his answer will be.

“Well.” He smiles softly. “I’m already married.”

My stomach flips. He’s been very committed to our role play. And while I’ve loved every second of it, I’ve come to realize we’re playing a very dangerous game here, one I’m starting to question if I can come back from. Because I really, really like when he calls me his wife.

“Okay, hypothetically, then. If we’d never gotten married, would you get remarried?”

He lets out a small puff of air then stares deeply into my eyes. My heart stops beating as he squeezes my arm. “I’d like to think that I will. That my dream of starting a family isn’t that far away from reality. But I’m getting older, and the older I get, the less I think it would be fair for a child to have a parent who isn’t as spry as I would’ve been had I had them at a younger age.”

My heart aches when I hear the pain in his words, so I lean up and kiss him gently on the mouth. I want to say it’s a good thing he’s with me, then. That I can give him the life he wants, that we both want. But I know that would be a lie.

“Tell me,” he says when I pull back. “Why did you decide to be a teacher instead of working for your dad’s company?”

I rest my head back against his shoulder, interlacing one of my hands with his. “Shouldn’t you have asked me that before we got married?” I tease him this time.

---