Page 91 of That Kind of Guy

Earrings.

I nearly laughed at myself. Of course he wasn’t proposing for real.

The earrings sparkled, two clusters of diamonds in a similar style to my ring. “Wow,” I breathed, glancing up at him.

He beamed back at me. “You like them?”

I nodded. “They’re gorgeous.”

He looked pleased. So pleased. “Good. I had the same jeweller who made your ring whip them up.”

I snorted. “Whip them up? So casual. Do you have a jeweller on speed dial?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I do now.”

A grin grew across my face, and the most delicious warmth spread through my chest.

“You’re a really good man, you know that?”

Something shuttered behind his eyes. The quickest flicker. Hesitation, maybe. It was gone before I could catch it, and he just reached for the bottle of wine to pour me another glass.

I stood. His gaze snagged on me, and he looked like he was going to ask me a question, but I walked around the table, leaned down, and kissed him.

This.It had been maybe ten hours since I had done this last, and yet my entire body felt like I was on the down part of a roller coaster. He groaned into me, and I inhaled him and his fucking incredible scent.

Emmett.It’s Emmett, I thought to myself. I guess it had always been Emmett.

I didn’t know what I was going to do with that thought, so I left it floating in my head while I reminded Emmett of how this kissing thing worked.

“It’s not cute anymore,” the host, Rachel, called as she passed. “It’s getting gross.”

We laughed against each other, and I returned to my side of the table. A triumphant, cocky smile spread across my face when I saw that Emmett looked a bit dazed. He made a satisfied hum to himself, and heat flared again in his gaze.

“I picked up the marriage certificate today.” He watched me closely.

“Okay.”

His chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath. He cleared his throat. “We’ll sign it at the ceremony, but I won’t file it at city hall. The marriage won’t be valid unless I file it.”

He watched my face as I tried to hold it neutral. Right. Our fake marriage. My heart ached once, sharp and fast, and I swallowed.

The realization hit me. I swatted it away like a wasp at a picnic, but it wouldn’t leave.

I didn’t want this to be a fake marriage.

I wanted it to be real. I wanted to file that marriage certificate with both our names on it. I wanted to wake up to his mouth on me and his arms around me and us scrambling against each other. I wanted to fall asleep in his bedroom. I wanted it to be my bedroom, too. I wanted to laugh with him at the turtle rescue as he gagged and tried to hand the turtles off. I wanted to go to Rhodes family dinners with him. I wanted more nights at Castle Beach, just the two of us eating sushi and talking.

Hesitation trickled into my mind. Marriage meant we would own everything fifty-fifty. Emmett would co-own The Arbutus.

I lifted my gaze to meet his. Emmett didn’t want a real marriage, anyways. He had told me he wasn’t a family kind of a guy, not a relationship and commitment kind of guy. It wasn’t in the cards for him. I knew this from the beginning. We had always been on the same page. This was the deal.

I pushed the thoughts away and nodded. “Okay. We won’t file the certificate.”

This wasn’t anusproblem, it was ameproblem. I’d deal with it like I dealt with everything—alone. Besides, it would be easier not to feel these things after our fake marriage was over and I had moved back into my own place and we didn’t see each other every day.

I was going to enjoy it while it lasted, though, because I’d probably never get something like this again.

We sat there for a while, chatting about nothing, just enjoying each other’s company until the bottle was empty and Emmett reached for my hand.

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