Page 36 of Never Say Yes To Your Fake Husband

Weland

The first thing I do when I wake up and realize it’s a) super early and b) Sterling is asleep in bed beside me is suppress the urge to haul myself up against him and kiss him awake. He needs his sleep. I also clearly needed mine. It turns out the best cure for insomnia and an overactive brain is a good orgasm. Sterling proved that to me last night. Then I passed out on him.

I clearly owe him.

Not in the form of waking him up since who knows when he fell asleep. Judging by his deep breathing, he’s pretty out of it right now. No matter what kind of thoughts my addled brain is producing, I’m not letting my ovaries dictate the terms.

What I am going to do is slide out of bed, get dressed, walk Beans, jump in the shower, feed Beans, and make some coffee and breakfast for us.

Still, as I slide out of bed and pull on leggings and a vintage T-shirt that has sunshine and clouds holding hands and dancing on the front of it, I can’t help a last, lingering look at my bed.My heart kicks up, and I feel like there are strings Sterling has wrapped around his hands that connect to every part of me. I really want to get back into bed and join him, even if it’s just to close my eyes and listen to his deep, steady breathing. I could just run my finger over the ridges of his shoulders that are defined even under his T-shirt. I could just study his face and memorize the beautiful details.

God, what’s happening to me?

My lower belly does a clenching thing that says I know very well what’s happening.

I head downstairs and make good on my agenda until I’m in the middle of putting on coffee, and someone knocks softly at the front door.

This isn’t a Greedy Gretchens kind of a knock. I imagine if they knocked, they’d bang the door down, though I don’t think they’d get that far. Beefy Security Dude out there would take them down. All three of them. Even though he’s just one person, I have zero doubt he’d find a way. I’m pretty sureLethal Exterminatoris his first language.

In fact, I recognize that knock. It sounds a lot like the way my dad puts his knuckles to a door when he’s kind of unsure about whether he should be doing it or not. That’s the way he used to wake me up for school every single morning. I’d always have my bedroom door closed to block out the noise of my mom getting up darn early and puttering around downstairs, and I’d also just about always shut my alarm off and fall back asleep, and he’d have to come and wake me up.

I can tell my hormones are riding high when I open it because on seeing my mom, my dad, and my brother on my doorstep, my eyes fill with happy tears.

“Come in,” I whisper. I glance up toward the ceiling and lock the door after them. “Sterling’s still asleep.”

Beans comes running, wagging his stumpy tail all the way to the door. Bryan bends down and scratches his one ear. “Hey, dude. Looking good.”

“He is,” Mom says. “Yes, he is. I think those probiotics are agreeing with him.”

“That’s good love,” Dad responds, slipping his arm around Mom’s waist but looking me up and down like he’s trying to see if good love agrees with me.

I have to turn and fly back to the kitchen because, nope, I’m not giving away secrets here. Not the secrets of my heart. I mean, there’s never been anything I haven’t discussed with my family before, but this feels…this feels private. It feels like it’s something I need to keep just for myself for a little bit longer. Maybe it’s because I don’t really know what that secret actually is. I haven’t decoded what’s going on. I had an orgasm last night. It doesn’t mean I’m falling in love. I might be married, but it doesn’t mean my husband is going to be my husband forever. That’s still undecided. I don’t have any answers for them, and I can tell they’ve come for answers.

Mom takes over in the kitchen for me, bustling around like she lives here and owns the place. She’s been here often enough, so she absolutely knows where everything is. I don’t protest when she starts whipping up a batch of waffles. I just take over with the bacon and eggs. Dad and Bryan sit down at the table.

“Have you figured out what to do about the cousins?” Bryan asks in the most brittle tone. I can practically feel the frost of his anger coming across the kitchen. Yeah, my family doesn’t just love me. They’re protective of me. No one messes with any of us because the rest of us won’t stand for it. We’re here for each other in all ways. I knew my family wouldn’t let this rest.

I now realize they didn’t come to ask me questions about my love life and check up on my relationship status. They’re here because they’ve thought of something. My dad is squirming inhis chair and glancing at my mom like he either really needs the bathroom or he’s bursting to tell me what it is.

She gives a slight nod, and he’s off. “We’ve come up with an idea. A great one. We’ve researched it a little. I’m no lawyer, but I think it could work. I have no idea how complicated it would be to carry all of it off and out and everything else, but I think if Sterling knows the right people, he could make it happen.”

“What could I make happen?” a voice suddenly says.

And there he is, filling up the doorway to the kitchen. A little bit sleepy and bleary-eyed, a little bit rumpled. He looks like he was pulled right from bed, heard voices, and then came down here to see what the heck was going on and if I needed saving. And he did it all with zero hesitation.

I want to race across the kitchen, throw my arms around his neck, and kiss him.

But I don’t want to do any of it just for show.

So I stay where I am, holding two eggs in one hand over the stainless steel bowl I was going to crack them into. But my eyes sweep over him, and his eyes sweep back to meet mine. For just a split second, I feel like one part of a twin flame, and then Sterling’s gaze wanders back to the table where my dad and brother are plotting.

In a good way. They’re plotting to try and save not just me but us. Even if they haven’t truly accepted that I’m part of an us.

“Does this involve nefarious plans and deeds?” I have to ask. Just because I’m not sure we really need to be putting any more negative energy out into the world.

“Not at all,” my dad answers.

My table only has two chairs, but there are two folding chairs over in the corner. Sterling grabs one, pops it open a few feet over, and plops down.

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