Page 82 of If the Ring Fits

Careful not to disturb her, I lift my arm to check my smartwatch. Saturday, 8.07a.m. glows on the screen. A relieved sigh escapes me. The markets are closed. No meetings, no deadlines looming. I can enjoy this unexpected moment a little longer. Gently, I pull Rowena closer, relishing her warm weight against me as I let my eyelids drift shut again.

Sometime later, she stirs, stretching languidly before turning to face me. Her chestnut hair is adorably mussed, her eyes heavy-lidded with lingering sleep. Gorgeous and irresistible, but still off-limits. Before even thinking about taking that step, I need to prove I can have a healthy work-life balance.

Before even saying good morning, Rowena trails a finger down the bridge of my nose, a playful smile flitting across her face. “You’ve been naughty, Bunny.”

My heart lurches. Oh fuck, what did I do? Did I grope her while we were sleeping? “I… what? Naughty how?” I stammer.

“Working yourself into the ground making a business plan for me.” She raises an eyebrow. “Ring any bells?”

“Ah. That.” Relief floods through me, followed by a twinge of self-consciousness at being caught. “I wanted it to be a surprise. To help you bring your amazing idea to life.” I trail a thumb over her hip where my hand is still resting. “So… is that how we ended up here? Not that I’m complaining.”

“I stopped by your office late last night and found you passed out at your desk, head lolling.” She chuckles softly. “So I half-carried, half-sleepwalked you to bed. You were out cold.”

No mention of why she stayed. Rowena must read the unspoken question in my gaze because color blooms on her cheeks. She doesn’t say anything, though, and I don’t ask.

“I can’t believe you did all that, just for me. The business plan.” Her voice softens. “I’m so grateful. Honestly. I’m pretty hopeless with the financial aspect of things.”

I grin, giving her side an affectionate squeeze. “That’s what I’m here for. To be your business-savvy sidekick while you focus on being the brilliant creative genius.”

She laughs and burrows closer, resting her head on my chest. My heartbeat quickens. With Rowena in my arms, it’s easy to picture this as my new normal. But I have more work to do, on myself and my workaholic tendencies, before I’m ready. For now, I’ll savor stolen moments like these and keep working on becoming the man she deserves. And the best thing I can do for her is make sure she has her independence back. That this dream of hers becomes reality. So that if one day, she stayswith me, it won’t be because she has no other choice, but because she wants it.

“I’ve been thinking…” I absent-mindedly draw circles on Rowena’s shoulder. “About the best way to bring your idea to market. Partnering with an established toy company might be the path to follow.”

She tilts her head to look up at me, brows knitted. “Why’s that?”

“Well, without an existing infrastructure, manufacturing and shipping costs could eat away all profit margins.”

“So, it wouldn’t be my company?”

“No, you’d be licensing the technology.”

“Licensing? How does that work?”

“How about we discuss it over breakfast? I feed you first and then we talk shop.”

Rowena’s face lights up. “I like the way you think, Bunny.”

Half an hour later, the late morning sun feels glorious on our faces as we stroll hand in hand toward the café where we first met to discuss how our fake marriage would work—I can’t believe it’s already been two months almost to the day since that awkward second meeting. A gentle breeze tempers the early August heat, making the walk to the café even more pleasant. Inside the coffee shop, the rich aroma of freshly ground beans envelops us. We order iced lattes and an assortment of flaky, sugar-dusted pastries before snagging a table by the window.

“Okay, so,” I begin, after a refreshing sip of my latte, “your best bet is pursuing a Joint Development Agreement with Licensing Terms. Essentially, you’d grant a partner rights tomanufacture and sell your console for royalty payments. No upfront costs to you.”

Rowena’s eyes widen. “Wow. So… I wouldn’t have to pay for anything? That’s… that’s perfect. I mean, I have no savings.”

I reach across the table and lay my hand over hers. “That’s not necessarily the issue. If I genuinely believed going solo was the best choice, I’d happily invest in your project myself or help you find other investors. But a licensing deal will be better for you in the long run. You’ll get to focus on what you love—developing kick-ass software and games to improve the console. Let the toy company handle the boring stuff like manufacturing and distribution.”

Rowena’s smile is incandescent. “That sounds amazing. I’d get to geek out and code all day without worrying about the rest? Sign me up!”

Chuckling, I raise my latte in a toast. “To you, nerding it out and conquering the world.”

Giggling, she clinks her cup against mine before taking a giant bite out of a pastry. It leaves her upper lip covered in powdered sugar.

I reach across the table and wipe the smudge of white dust from Rowena’s mouth with my thumb. Her breath hitches at the contact, and for a charged moment, neither of us moves. The air between us feels electric, the pull of attraction almost impossible to ignore. But I force myself to drop my hand and lean back, determined not to make things physical until I’ve proven I can be the kind of partner she deserves.

“How quickly could you have a prototype ready?”

Her jaw goes slack. “Do I have to build a console from scratch?”

“No, no,” I assure her. “If we’re aiming to license theconcept, a demo on a tablet to showcase the software and functionalities will be more than enough.”

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