Page 48 of Why Not Both?

“Exactly. If you live with someone for a year in a conjugal relationship—the law’s words, not mine—you’re effectively married in the eyes of the government. What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is yours.”

“And you have something.”

I nod. “My mom left me an inheritance. It’s a fair chunk of money. I’ve invested it and it’s grown a bit over the years. I try not to use it because I’d intended to use it for a down payment one of these days.” I hesitate. I want to tell her the rest. Only three people in my life know about my money.

She notices my pause and says, “You don’t have to tell me anything more, Spencer. It’s none of my business.”

“I want to tell you. We’re friends and the rest of my friends know.” Still, I hesitate. This won’t change anything, I tell myself. If it does, she’s not the woman I thought she was. “I also have a trust fund. I don’t use it. Don’t even have access to it. There are certain stipulations attached that I refuse to agree to.”

“What kind of stipulations? Getting married or something?”

I snort. “My father doesn’t care if I get married.” I shake my head. “He won’t release it unless I join his company or start my own approved business.”

“Approved by who?”

I arch an eyebrow and say nothing.

She smiles wryly. “That was a pretty stupid question. What happens if you don’t?”

I shrug. “Nothing. I won’t fall in line. He won’t give me the trust fund.”

“How much is it worth?” Lis asks, and then immediately bites her lip, her eyes sliding away. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me. I’ve just never met anyone with a trust fund before.”

I laugh. “Well, now you know two. Me and Vic. Vic has hers, though. That’s how she started this place. Last time I checked, mine had about twenty-five million in it, I think.”

“Twenty-five… You think? You don’t know—down to the penny—how much is in it?”

“Why would I? I don’t think of it as real money. I mean, of course it is. But unless my father takes the stipulations off, I’m never going to touch it. So it just sits there and collects interest and I work a regular job for regular money and get to be a regular guy.”

She gives me a slow smile. “Well, I kind of like the regular guy.”

A bit of tension eases. I’ve known a lot of women who found out who my father is and wanted to be with me even though I don’t have anything from him. I’d even accused Lucy of it at the bar the night I met Lis. I’d been certain Lis wouldn’t be like that, but it was nice to know I’d been right.

“So,” I say motioning toward the computer, “do you see any you think I should check out?”

She stands excitedly, coming around the desk, and positioning her chair so she can look at the screen with me. “I love looking at houses. It’s so fun to see all the different layouts. And I admit I spend more time than I should looking at other people’s kitchens.”

She offers me a cute smile and I fight not to lean closer to press my lips against it. Over the last few weeks, I’ve gotten pretty good at keeping the urge to kiss her in check, partly made easier since I started kissing her head and cheek frequently. More frequently than maybe I should.

“You want to stay Downtown?” she asks, as we finally turn our attention back to the screen.

“I was thinking about it. It’s nice to be able to walk to work. And all my things are here. Besides. Why would I want to leave Vancouver?”

She grins at me. “Can’t think of a reason.” She looks back at the computer. “There’s a place for sale in Vic’s building. Fuck. Look at those prices. You can afford that?”

I check what she’s looking at. “That one is a little high, but I could probably swing it. Vic’s apartment doesn’t allow pets, though.”

“You’re thinking of getting a dog?”

Shit. It would be weird if I told her I’d been thinking of Cerberus. Lis is just my friend. But I’d been thinking, if I ever had her over for a movie night, she could bring him. And maybe, deep down, I still harbour some hope that we can work something out. As the idea of buying my own place grows, so does the desire to find something she might like.

“Uh,” I say, clearing my throat. “Not right now. But I want to keep my options open.”

She nods. Right. That makes sense. Perfectly reasonable.

“Ooh, I like this one,” she says, and I check to see what she’s looking at. “Look at that kitchen.”

It’s bright and open with a large island and a gas stove.

---