Page 34 of Just Say When

“It was Zack’s idea, actually. He gets the blame—I mean, credit.”

“Zack was high on painkillers. Guess we better call the whole thing off.” My tone was breezy and teasing, but I felt a little shiver of anxiety go through me. Did hewantto call it off?

Brax smirked and captured my hand in his, tugging me along behind him past the bare-branched rosebushes and up the porch steps. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet already.”

“My toes are toasty warm, thank you very much. Are yours? You’re the one with something to lose.”

He stopped so fast I nearly smashed my nose against his back. My toes teetered on the top step as I fought for balance. I grasped for his shirt—because goddamn it, if I was going down, I was taking him with me—but he looped one arm around my waist, hauled me flush against his body and up off my feet, and moved me back from the edge.

And I fuckinggiggled.

I couldn’t help it. I was a tall girl and solidly built. I had curvesandmuscles. Men did not simply lift me by a single arm and toss me around. Except for Brax Hale, apparently. Hence the giggle. For once, I felt small. In a good way. I loved my height, my curves, my muscles. But I also liked this. The feeling of someone else being bigger and stronger and in control of where he put my body. The knowledge of what he coulddowith my body, if he put his mind to it.

The thought of it sent a quiver of…something…deep inside me. Something hungry and a little wistful. I refused to call it lust. This man was going to be my husband. Myfakehusband. I would have to share a roof with him, if not a bed. There might be times when I had to actually hold his hand in public. I couldn’t be getting allquiveryabout him. I fucking refused.

He crossed his arms over his chest, studying me. “What is it you think I have to lose?”

The question caught me off guard. Partly because I was still irrationally quivery, but also because I didn’t have an answer. On the face of it, I was the one with more skin in the game. My reputation, my career, my mom’s livelihood. If this went south, Brax wouldn’t get his fifty thousand dollars, but the money was never guaranteed to begin with. He wanted the money, but he didn’t need it. I doubted whether money was truly why he was doing this at all.

I looked up at the house. It was a big, rambling thing of solid pine beams. A house built to last, with an eye to the future. Prior generations of Hales had all added their own touch, leaving something behind for the generations still to come. One day Adam would, too. Ted had moved to one of the smaller cabins on the property, leaving the main house to Adam, Ben, and James. Someday, hopefully a long time from now, Lodestar Ranch would be inherited by all three brothers.

But the house would be Adam’s. Where he would raise his family.

I knew Brax was fine with that. Happy, even. He had always made it clear that the ranching life wasn’t for him. He loved the animals and was happy to help out when it was needed, but mostly he took care of the taxes and legal paperwork and left the day-to-day operations to his dad and brother.

Brax cared about Lodestar, for sure. And if Pirate was the winner we believed him to be, the stallion couldmake the ranch one of the foremost quarter horse breeders in the country. That was why he was doing this sham marriage, wasn’t it? For the ranch. For his family.

He had everything to gain and nothing to lose.

So why did it feel like he was the one risking it all?

I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I said, as much to myself as to his question.

“It’s going to be fine.” He moved toward the door. “I promise.”

“There you go again. Always making promises you can’t keep.”

He looked at me, his expression inscrutable. “I think I’ve kept my promises pretty damn well, actually.”

“What promises—” I began, but he had already reached around me, opened the door, and nudged me through it before I could get another word out.

Voices and the scent of garlic and tomatoes wafted from the kitchen. That meant Ted was making his old standby of spaghetti, meatballs, and garlic bread. My stomach growled as we walked down the hall.

Everyone else was already there. Adam, James, and Ben laughing as they threw together a salad. Zack on a barstool, his crutches resting against the counter. My Mom—who was not a regular attendee of Sunday dinner at Lodestar, but didn’t seem at all suspicious when I told her we were invited—spread a thick smear of garlic butter to a loaf of French bread while Ted stirred a large pot of bubbling pasta sauce. Over theclank and clatter of dishes was the constant hum of people chatting and teasing.

My mom looked up. “You two came together?”

My mouth went dry.

Because this…thiswas what Brax had to lose. This was what he wanted. He had probably imagined this moment in his mind. Imagined what it would feel like to bring a woman to Sunday dinner and give them the good news that she was going to be family. Hale men took marriage seriously. Ted had raised his sons in the legend of his own love story with their mother. Of course he had imagined this.

He sure as fuck never imagined it would beme.

And there was no fucking way anyone in that room was going to think it wasgoodnews that it was.

I looked at Brax. His gaze slid over my face, searching. The corner of his mouth hitched in a quick half smile. And then he took my hand, threading our fingers together, and turned to face the room.

“We’re getting married,” he said, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

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