Page 48 of Married to the Frenemy

I’m about to wrap my arms around him, but stop myself, remembering the rules we have in place.

But as I survey his demeanor, I sense something’s off. He just told me Grady’s going to sell him the vineyard, yet he looks like someone just informed him his dog died.

“What’s wrong? I thought you’d be over the moon. This is what you’ve always wanted.”

“I know.” He briefly squeezes his eyes shut. When he returns them to mine, they’re conflicted. “I just… I should have asked him earlier. Or known. But the sale won’t be finalized until after this year’s harvest, since it’s his thirtieth. Harvest goes August through October.”

“So that means…”

“If we stick to our original agreement, we’d need to stay married until at least April. Possibly May.”

“Oh.” My shoulders fall as I peer into the distance, Maggie and Monte zooming around the yard in a blur.

While I feared Beckham was about to tell me it was all over and we got married for nothing, I’m not sure how to feel about this, either. Not sure how to feel about staying married until May. At that point, we’ll have been married for over a year.

Over a year of watching him play with Maggie.

Over a year of sharing a bed with him.

Over a year of reminding myself it’s not real — even though a part of me still wishes it could be, despite all the past hurt.

“We could end things earlier,” Beckham suggests when I don’t immediately respond. “I’m worried what Grady might think if we split right after the sale goes through. After everything he did for me, I don’t want him to know the truth. I want him to be able to retire thinking I’m happily married.”

I bring my eyes back to his. “Then we’ll stay married.”

“Are you sure?” He narrows his gaze on me.

“What’s a few more months? Plus, look on the bright side,” I say in a chipper voice. “He’s going to sell to you. You’re getting the vineyard. If you ask me, that’s something worth celebrating.”

He studies me for several long moments, his brows furrowed. “How do you do it?” he asks softly, almost as if to himself.

“Do what?”

“Always remain so positive.” He glances at my leg, regret and guilt flickering across his features.

I want to tell him what happened to me all those years ago isn’t his fault. That I don’t blame him. That I’ve never blamed him. But we’ve gone this long without talking about the giant elephant in the room. Why change things now?

“Maybe Parker’s influence is rubbing off on me,” I respond with a laugh, breaking through the tension. “After all, I manifested a solution to my living situation. While I didn’t foresee this exact scenario being the solution, I think it’s working out. Being married to you isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Likewise, Hales.” He gently nudges me.

When he does, a jolt of electricity shoots through me. It’s the first time any part of his body has been in contact with any part of mine in over six weeks. Ever since I made him sign that contract, we’ve both kept our distance, probably obsessively so.

But when I see the flash of desire in Beckham’s gaze, I can’t help but wonder if we’re just setting ourselves up for failure by having these rules. That by denying ourselves of any touch, we’re making it more inevitable we’ll both crack.

And when we do, it’ll be with such force I won’t be able to put all my pieces back together again.

That’s the kind of power Beckham Lawrence has over me.

That he’s always had over me, even if I’ve tried to forget him.

Forget us.

“We should go celebrate,” I suggest, tearing my gaze from his before I do something I’ll regret. “Or you can go celebrate with your brothers. It’s not every day you buy a vineyard, after all.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Great. I’ll take care of feeding Monte dinner so you can?—”

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