Page 42 of Married to the Frenemy

BECKHAM

I navigate my truck along the winding dirt path that leads to the outskirts of the vineyard, darkness enveloping me. The sun set hours ago, leaving behind a serene stillness that only seems to grow as I approach my house.

While I usually work from early morning to long past sunset, I can’t do that if I hope to convince Grady to sell to me. Even though I left at a reasonable hour, I wasn’t ready to face Haley just yet, not after this morning. Instead, I stopped by Jude’s brewery for a beer, where I proceeded to tell him all about my night.

And my morning.

As expected, he got a kick out of it.

Apparently, he and Parker have a bet on how long Haley and I will last before we sleep together. The asshole gave us until the end of the week. Parker was a bit more realistic with her prediction of a month. I can only assume that’s because she doesn’t know everything that occurred between Haley and me all those years ago. At least, that’s the impression Jude got from her.

I shouldn’t be surprised Haley never told her. As close as she is to Parker now, Haley didn’t grow up in Sycamore Falls. Once she no longer needed a nanny, I didn’t think I’d ever see her again.

Until I looked across the pasture during a party at Kaplan Farm and saw a pair of familiar green eyes staring back. She looked so out of place in her designer dress and shoes, but I knew it was all a façade. A mask she wore so no one could see the real Haley McBride.

But I saw her for who she was. A miserable woman desperate to break free.

Pulling my truck to a stop in front of my house, I kill the ignition and hop down, Monte following behind me. When I step into the dimly lit house, I expect Haley to be asleep, since it’s almost midnight.

Instead, she’s perched on a stool by the kitchen island, a notepad and a glass of wine in front of her. Monte wags his tail excitedly as he hurries inside, no longer giving a shit about the person who rescued him from certain death years ago. With Haley around, he only has eyes for her, sitting obediently at her feet as she scratches his head.

Her hair is piled on the top of her head in a messy bun, a few strands escaping to frame her face. She’s dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts that barely cover her ass. Even in casual attire, there’s a sensuality about her that causes a stirring in my pants.

It doesn’t help that I can tell she’s not wearing a bra.

And it also doesn’t help that I can’t seem to look away from the faint outline of her nipples hardening against the fabric of her t-shirt.

“I need you to sign this,” she announces in a firm tone, forcing my eyes away from her chest.

“Is that the paperwork from Maggie’s preschool?”

She mentioned I’d need to sign a few forms to transfer the billing over to me.

“It’s a contract, more or less.”

I arch a brow. “A…contract?”

“Yes.” She squares her shoulders and holds her head high. “After this morning, I thought it best we spell out our expectations, so there are no more…surprises.”

“Surprises? Like you watching me in the shower like a peeping tom?” I cross my arms in front of my chest, unable to stop myself from teasing her.

If I’m going to survive this marriage, I can’t take anything too seriously.

Including the way my heart still races every time her eyes find mine, as if the past fourteen years never happened.

But all I have to do is look at the faint scar still visible on Haley’s leg to remind myself they did happen. And there’s nothing I can do to change that.

“I was just surprised. That’s all.” She swallows a gulp of wine, her face turning a shade of red that might rival her hair.

“Didn’t look like it.” I grab a glass from the cabinet and pour myself some of the pinot noir she’d opened. “It looked like you quite enjoyed yourself.” I fully face her. “It sounded like you quite enjoyed yourself.”

I take a sip of the light-bodied wine, savoring the hints of cherry and oak that dance on my tongue.

“I… That doesn’t matter,” she stammers, obviously flustered. “That’s why we need this contract. To avoid incidents like this in the future. We should have done this before we got married, but I was so focused on moving that it never crossed my mind to set forth any expectations and…limitations.”

“Listen, Haley…” I assume the barstool beside her.

When my leg brushes hers, a buzz of electricity shoots through me. She sucks in a sharp breath, but quickly adjusts her position, scooting as far away as she can.

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