Page 43 of Close to My Heart

I frowned, racking my brain for her meaning. “You mean the accident?”

“That and from my grandmother’s scheme. You saved me from dating those guys. It’s a relief not to have to worry about choosing the right one.”

“Now you’re stuck with me,” I quipped to try and lighten the mood.

“It’s a good place to be,” Sutton said with a smile, and my heart took off. “What’s the plan for the next few weeks?”

Sutton seemed nervous about something, and I knew she felt better when she had definite plans. “We’ll move you into my place, and you’ll work with my sisters to plan the big day. Then we’ll stay married for a few weeks, or do you think it should be months?”

“The will says I have to get married. It doesn’t say anything about duration. I had my attorney look at it.”

“So, what, we just need to stay married for one day?” I asked, a little disappointed by that news.

“The attorney recommended that we make it look legit. I would think a few months should do it.”

“That’s doable.”

“Are you sure you can put up with me for a few months?” Sutton looked up at me.

I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my time, but I couldn’t tell her that. “I’ll manage.”

“I think I’ll spend all my time out here, under the lights. I can’t think of a better Christmas night.”

The day had started off a little awkward and uncomfortable. I had a feeling the next few weeks were going to be crazy. Between her moving in and planning a wedding, it wouldn’t be easy. But maybe after the wedding, things would settle down and we could explore the possibility of us.

In the meantime, I’d take advantage of moments like this to get closer to her.

Over the next few days, I helped Sutton move her things into my place. She seemed reluctant to bring much more than clothes, claiming she didn’t want to disrupt my life when that was exactly what I wanted her to do.

Bedtime was a little awkward. We’d slept together a couple of times, but it was because of circumstance. This felt different. There was a little dance we did, where I insisted she go into the bathroom first. Then I rested on the pillows wondering what she was doing in there, if she was naked and smoothing lotion over her legs.

It was torture. By the time I brushed my teeth and stripped to my briefs, the lights in the bedroom were off.

Sutton faced away from me, and I regretted my choice of a king bed because there was so much distance between us.

By morning, she was wrapped around me, her head on my chest or her body sprawled on top of mine. It made for some awkward wake-ups.

I insisted on making her breakfast before we both left for the day. She was busy with plans for our fake wedding and was still leading tours of the house. I went to my job, where I was grateful for the time outside to clear my head.

I was a mess. Living with her was intense. My body wanted her, but my brain wanted to take things slow. I was waiting for a sign from her that she felt the same way. Then I worried that she’d never give me one.

There was a party at the Rosesmith Estate for New Year’s, and we were expected to be there as the newly engaged couple. I wasn’t looking forward to it, but Sutton had arranged for me to have a tux, and she’d said she’d wear a gown for the event.

I could think of a billion other things I’d rather be doing, like hiking through the woods or dancing under the stars again. But we needed this to look real, and if this is what it took, then I’d do it.

The best perk of us pretending to be engaged was that I could shield her from some of her family’s vitriol. She wasn’t alone in this anymore. I tried not to think of what would come after our breakup.

That evening, I was standing in front of the full-length mirror struggling with the bow tie when Sutton came out of the closet in a sparkly black dress that clung to every curve. When she moved, her bare leg peeked out of a high slit.

“You look stunning.”

A slow smile spread over her face. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” Then she turned, and my heart tripped over the sight of the expanse of bare skin she revealed. “Would you mind?”

My mouth was dry, and my heart was beating in my ears. Did she want me to touch her? If I reached under the gaping material I’d palm her bare breasts, tweaking the peeks of her nipples into hard nubs.

Sutton gathered her hair and pulled it over one shoulder, then peeked over her shoulder at me. “Wes. The zipper.”

My heart rate slowed. She wanted me to help her. My fingers shook as one hand rested on her hip, guiding her closer until she was only inches away from me. I was at war with myself. I could bare her, touch her, or zip her up.

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