Page 12 of Bull Rush

“My parents won’t be able to loan us anything else. They’ve put in all they can for the wedding, so we’ll just have to cancel it. Or push it out. I don’t even know how I’ll tell them. It’s a disaster.” Curtis’s forehead furrows with the thought.

I haven’t even met his parents yet. They’re always on one trip or another on the other side of the world, but they’re supposed to spend the holidays with us this year to finalize wedding plans. Kit and I had already started planning for their visit. It’s just mortifying to know they’ll have this kind of impression of me before I even get to know them.

“I know. I’m still hoping I can come up with a plan. Sometimes sleeping on it means having a better idea in the morning.” I try to reach out for his hand but he turns his back to me, tucking the sheet tight around his shoulders.

“Yeah. Maybe,” he mutters.

My heart sinks. I’ll be lucky to keep any of our plans. A divorce could take months, over a year if he makes it particularly messy—and he already promised he would. I know theman well enough to know he’s just stubborn enough to hold to his conditions.

The next morningwe’re finishing breakfast when Curtis sets his phone aside and looks up at me. His eyes wander over me thoughtfully before he speaks.

“I think you should do it,” he says flatly, like it’s a business decision.

“What?” I’m caught off guard.

I expected the anger from last night to boil over to today. I figured we’d have to spend a few more hours hashing out the pros and cons of the options in front of us. I spent the night wide awake working my way up to the idea of being Ramsey’s wife again, at least temporarily, but I thought I’d have to convince Curtis it’s our best option. The outright refusal and the misplaced rage yesterday all made sense, but this quiet resignation knocks me off-kilter.

“I’ve thought about it, and I just think we don’t have another choice. We need the ranch free and clear of him, and we need the refinancing to go through to keep it going.”

“About that…” I say softly.

He looks up at me, confusion marring his face, and his brow lifts in question.

“He’d give us the money.” I didn’t tell him that part last night. The entire proposal felt dirty enough without adding the money to the mix.

“The money for the refinance?”

“And then some. A million.” I practically whisper the words.

“Why?” His brow furrows like he can’t make sense of it, and the reaction pricks.

“You don’t think I’m worth it?” It’s a stupid thing to say. I’m starting another argument when we haven’t finished this one. We already have enough problems to fuel them for the next two months straight. I see the flicker of irritation over his face.

“I’m just asking why he’d do it.” Curtis’s tone turns irritated.

“I don’t know why he’s doing any of this.” Other than the possibility of the obvious, but I can’t believe it.

“Don’t be naïve. He’s an egotistical prick used to always getting his way. He wants you back, and this place too, or to at least prove he can have it if he wants it.” His temper flares, but he tamps it down almost as quickly, reaching out and cupping my cheek. “But I know you’re smarter than that, and I know what we have is better than anything you had with him, so I’m not worried. If you doing this gets you everything debt free with a bonus…” He shrugs and presses his lips together like it’s a painful reality we need to confront. “I feel like we have to seriously consider it.”

“I’m surprised that’s your reaction. I really thought you’d be dead set against this.”

“You know how I feel about things like this. The wedding. The inn business. Your ex. It doesn’t make sense to be anything other than pragmatic. Besides, he gets you and this place for ninety days. I get you and all of this for the rest of my life. Ten years from now, three months won’t matter.” He takes a long sip of his coffee.

He’s right about that. He’s pragmatic about everything. The opposite of my ambitious daydreams and wild ideas. Always keeping me grounded in reality and making sure I’m thinking about the bigger picture and things like finances and budgets and reality. Something Ramsey never even tried to do. He was as much a dreamer as me. We just were in the unfortunateposition of having dreams that ran in different directions—his to Ohio and mine here.

“I guess that’s true. In ten years, none of this will matter. But it’s… You realize that he wants me in his bed, doing a lot more than just sleeping in it. You don’t feel like it’s cheating?” We’ve danced around the heart of this conversation since last night. We’ve discussed the inn, the ranch, him staying in the house and how much easier it’ll make the divorce go if we just play along. But we haven’t discussed the fact that Ramsey was very specific in his request.

“It can’t be cheating if you’re telling me about it and I’m agreeing to it. More like a hall pass. One that gets us a three-thousand-acre ranch, your inn, and apparently an extra million for you to renovate it like you want.”

“But it’s a hall pass I don’t want,” I add, because I feel like I have to. For myself as much as him. Especially after the preview I got already. I can’t deny the fact that my ex-husband is attractive, but I could remind myself that it came with so many downsides, it ruined everything beautiful about him.

Curtis looks up at me thoughtfully, studying my face.

“If you feel like he’s forcing you or he’s unsafe and you don’t want to do this, tell me. I don’t want to be party to anything that makes you uncomfortable.” His brows slant down in a deep frown.

“He won’t force himself on me.” I shake my head. That much I know about Ramsey.

Well, he won’t use forcewithout permissionis probably the more accurate way of putting it. Not that I’m about to share that tidbit with Curtis. Ramsey knows some of my darkest fantasies, ones I’ve never shared with Curtis, and I don’t feel like now is a great time to illuminate that particular discrepancy.

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