Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Why can’t he just tell me? I know a lot of people think the person they married is a stranger, but in this case, it’s true. I might have worked with him for a year, but I really don’t know anything about him. I didn’t even know he had a sister or that his house was all nice, cozy, and normal with pretty paintings and comfortable-looking furniture in it.
I’m pretty sure I kept the glimmer of hope out of my eyes this morning when it came to us getting fake married and the kiss the bride part, but I can’t keep the hope out of my eyes now. After we switch seats and are back on the road, Leon calls me out on it.
“Your eyes look funny.”
Takes one to know one. Maybe. Does this apply? His eyes don’t really look that funny. Not all the time. He’s too good at hiding it. “Funny how?” I actually check the rearview mirror quickly to see what he might see, but there’s nothing there. No smudged mascara or anything.
“They have something glowing in them.”
“That’s just…the reflection of cars passing. And what’s up with yours? As your wife, shouldn’t I know these things? Also, as your assistant, shouldn’t I know these things?”
“No.” And that’s the end of that discussion.
Bum stick one. Darby zero.
It stays that way for the rest of the drive. Honestly, I’m more worried about making good on what I said and taking care of the paint job on the shiny, cherry apply red car than I am about trying to find the right thing to say. We have a week here. A whole week. Together. I’m sure it will come to me during that time, and no, I don’t have a bunch of silly butterflies in the pit of my stomach or lights shining in my eyes or whatever. I know this isn’t real. Leon isn’t really my husband. Okay, well, maybe he legally is, but he doesn’t want to be. He’s not in this marriage by choice, and he doesn’t think I am either.
Except he’d be wrong. He’d be so freaking wrong.
I would have taken this deal without the money. The money is just the way I justified my own heaping dose of patheticness and a crush that I haven’t been able to shake.
I’m more worried about that than anything. That I’m going to slip up this week, this week is actually going to be torture, and nothing will go the way I planned, which was basically a horribly cobbled together set of hopes and girly, childish dreams that if we spent a week together, we’d actually find that we like each other, maybe even more than like, and maybe things could blossom from there. I have to play my cards just right, and I’ve never been very good at cards. I’ve never been very good at games in general. My siblings kick my ass at family board game night every time. I have no poker face. They’d tell me that I have no skill at games and no game at games. And this isn’t a game. Leon isn’t a game. Leon is real, and I don’t want to hurt him. I really don’t want to hurt myself either.
By the time we actually get to the cabin, I’m a bit of a wreck. I’m so relieved to find the driveway so I can get out of the silent car, breathe in the fresh, clean lake air, and let it help me settle my nerves and screw my head back on that I nearly let out a cry of joy when I spot the wooden driveway sign standing proudly on two wood posts at the end of the driveway.
I turn in and drive down the winding, tree-lined, narrow little strip of cleared land that passes for a road. I let out a cry of surprise and joy when I break through the clearing and see a black truck, undoubtedly my brother’s, and my grandparent’s old dusty boat of a car.
“Oh my gosh! Some of my family is here!”
Leon blanches. Like literally, his face loses color, and it’s night and hard to tell, so that really is saying something. “Yippee,” he covers up by stating dryly, like a huge ass.
Bum stick two. Darby zero.
My brother bursts out of the cabin door at the same time I get out of the driver’s seat. We both stare at each other for a second, kind of in shock, before we rush at each other across the yard for a hug. We see each other often in the city, but it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other out here, and this is our happy place.
The second that Nate’s arms wrap around my shoulders, I realize my family is here. Here! And so am I, with my boss, who is also my husband. I mean, I’m wearing a freaking wedding band on my left hand.