Page 32 of Four-ever Single

I was exhausted and sore from spending the day moving my stuff into his house. We knew it wouldn’t look like a real marriage if we had separate houses, which meant we needed to move in together.

It made more sense for me to move into his house, and even as much as I hated to admit it, it felt more like home than the house I shared with Lia. It was warm and welcoming, and for some reason, it reminded me of walking into my grandparent’s house—which would technically be mine if I didn’t screw anything up with the trust before then.

“They’re going to want to plan a wedding for us,” I warned, turning in my seat to stare at him. Today was the first day I’d really seen him since he was on shift the past two days. Even though I didn’t consider myself ready for marriage, I also wouldn’t complain about having to look at his gorgeous face every day.

“Do you not want them to?” he asked, bringing me back into the present.

“I don’t know.” I sighed. “I hate to be so negative, but I would be fine just going to the courthouse and doing it there. The requirement says I have to be married. It doesn’t say anything about me having to have a big, fancy wedding.”

“True,” he said cautiously. “But what if this is your only wedding? Wouldn’t you want to make it special if you could?”

I felt my cheeks flush with heat. Was he saying he wanted to really marry me or that he planned to stay married to me once this was over? We hadn’t talked about what would happen after the six months were up...

“What about you?” I asked, hoping to steer the focus away from me. “What kind of wedding do you want?”

He shrugged and looked at me while we stopped at a red light.

“I don’t know. I’ve never given it much thought.”

“Because you never expected some crazy girl to con you into marrying her?” I teased, hoping to make light of everything.

“No, because I never thought anyone would ever love me enough to consider marrying me.”

The light turned green, our conversation over because what could I even say to that? It wasn’t that I didn’t love him, but whatever I was feeling was way too new for me to be able to blurt it out and possibly hurt him in the long run. He deserved better than that—better than a girl who might not make the same decision to marry him if her future wasn’t on the line.

We pulled up to Kensy’s house a few minutes later, neither of us bothering to speak as he helped me out. His touch was soft but felt distant as he guided me to the door with his hand on my lower back.

“Hey! I’m so glad you guys could make it!” Kensy exclaimed, holding the door and stepping back so we could enter. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you guys were getting your stuff moved today, or I would have tried planning for another day.”

“It’s okay. Thanks for inviting us for dinner,” I said, hanging my purse on the rack behind the door.

“No problem, though I do have ulterior motives.” She grinned big and rubbed her lips together as if trying to keep a secret in.

We followed her into the kitchen, where Capshaw was pulling something out of the oven. Whatever it was smelled delicious and made my mouth water, reminding me that we had skipped lunch today. Jones had insisted that we stop and eat something, but we decided to fuck instead. Priorities.

“Since Lia couldn’t be here because of work, I’ve taken on the task of coordinating everything for the wedding,” Kensy announced, grabbing a notepad and pen before walking with us to the dining room table. “We’ll eat first, then get down to the details after.”

“We don’t have to do anything big or fan—” I started before she pinned me with a look, and I stopped.

“Lia warned me you would do this,” she said with a sigh. “She also recommended that we start with this.” She grabbed a bottle of wine from the shelf behind her and handed it to me. “I’ll help Capshaw get dinner out if you want to help pour the wine.”

I took a deep breath, already feeling my anxiety spike when I felt Jones rest his hand on my shoulder.

“Here, let me,” he said, taking the bottle from my hands.

I stepped back and watched as he worked, trying not to stare too hard as the muscles in his forearm flexed as he twisted the corkscrew.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to throw you over my shoulder and haul you home,” he warned, glancing over his shoulder. Home. Our home. Because we officially live together as of a few hours ago. Just one more change I hadn’t seen coming.

“How do you know when I’m doing that?” I asked quietly, giggling.

“Because your eyes are literally undressing me right now. Capshaw is going to come out and wonder why my dick is hard from opening a bottle of wine.”

“Well, it’s not just any wine. It’s the best of the best. It’s the Chianti I used to drink with my grandmother.”

“That helps,” he muttered.

“What does?” I asked, confused as I leaned forward to look at him.

---