Page 31 of Married to the Frenemy

“Is that the best you can do?” Grady jests, slapping Beckham’s back. “You’re married, son. Kiss your wife like you mean it.”

“My wife,” Beckham muses, almost bewildered by the term. As if he’s just realized the reality of what we’ve done.

By the furrowed expression on his brow, I half expect him to tell everyone the truth. Then his eyes darken and he loops an arm around my waist, tugging my body against his, his eyes focused on my lips.

I inhale a sharp breath, caught off guard by his sudden motion, my pulse kicking up when I peer into his lust-filled eyes.

“My wife,” he growls again before pressing his mouth more firmly against mine.

This time, his kiss isn’t even remotely awkward. And certainly nothing like our first kiss. Instead, he takes total command of my body, coaxing my lips to part, our tongues tangling briefly. His kiss is warm. Firm. Intoxicating. So much so that a tiny whimper falls from my throat, my veins heating.

There’s something familiar yet different about his kiss. I lost count of the number of times Beckham kissed me during our short-lived summer fling. But kissing him as an adult is much different than when we were teens. It’s much more charged. The way he explores my mouth as if he’s uncovered a priceless artifact turns me to putty. I thought I’d be able to control myself better. Thought I could separate the lies from reality.

Instead, nothing seems to stop me from unraveling in response to his expert kiss.

“Now that’s how you kiss your wife,” Grady says once Beckham brings our kiss to an end, his hand on my hip the only thing keeping me upright.

“My wife,” Beckham repeats, his eyes flaming as they remain locked on mine.

And for a moment, a part of me can’t help but think he wishes this were real, too.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

BECKHAM

“Is this where we’re going to live now, Mama?” Maggie asks as Haley leads her up the front porch of my house on the vineyard later that afternoon. The setting sun casts a golden hue over the property, giving the vines a vibrant glow.

With the strange hours I work, it’s more convenient to live out here so I can tend to the vines if anything comes up. Even so, I kept my townhouse in the historic district, as well, since it’s in a highly desirable area, especially for tourists.

Although once Grady told me his plans, I stopped taking bookings. I hope I don’t have to move out of the place that’s been my home since Grady refurbished this house and suggested I live here after routinely finding me asleep on the couch in my office.

I haven’t spoken to him about rethinking his stance now that I’m married. I figured if I brought it up at our mini-reception this afternoon, he might get suspicious. While I know he’s been in discussions with a few interested parties, he hasn’t signed any deals yet. I’m hoping I have a little time before I need to raise the subject.

“Do you like it?” Haley asks her daughter.

Maggie’s eyes widen as she takes in the wraparound porch. “There’s a swing on the front porch! I’ve always wanted a swing.”

“You swing all the time at the park.”

“But I can swing anytime I want here.”

“Once it gets a little warmer and the ground has thawed some, I’ll put in a playscape for you,” I offer.

Provided I convince Grady to sell to me.

“For real life?” Maggie asks, her expression lighting up.

“You don’t have to do that,” Haley says quietly, an edge to her voice.

“I don’t have to do anything. I want to,” I tell her, fighting to keep from staring at her mouth, something that’s proving increasingly difficult.

As if it isn’t bad enough that her lips are painted a deep crimson in stark contrast to her fair skin, all I’ve been able to think about is that damn kiss.

I’d like to say the only reason I kissed her like I did was to convince everyone this is real. But when I heard Grady call her my wife, something primal and protective stirred inside me. Before I knew it, I crushed my mouth against hers, wanting to claim her as mine, for once and for all.

“She’ll be fine going to the park,” Haley insists, giving me a pointed look. “No sense going to the trouble.”

I can hear what she doesn’t say. That there’s no reason for me to put in a playscape when Maggie won’t be around to enjoy it for more than a few months.

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