Page 52 of Merlot Marriage

“I’m not mad Cassie found out. Nate already knows. And it’s not like your sister hasn’t almost caught us more than once.”

“Then why are you upset?”

“I’m not upset.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “You are.”

“I’m not.” My casual attempt at saying it doesn’t fool her. It wouldn’t fool anyone. But god, I wish she would let it drop so I don’t have to explain why I’m upset.

“So, you’d be happy to just make out with me all night, no conversation required?” Shifting, she swings one leg over my thighs so she’s straddling me. But instead of pressing close and letting me go back to pretending all I want is sex, she slides back to my knees and pokes a finger in my chest. “Husband. Talk.”

Fuck, she’s called my bluff.

I take her hands in mine, stalling while I dig deep for the courage to admit the truth that’s been twisting my guts for the last four months.

Ophie rubs her thumbs across the back of my knuckles, the motion soothing, just like always. My gaze is glued to our hands resting on my thighs.

She always knows how to make me feel better. Braver. More myself than the charming vagabond who arrived in America with two suitcases and the knowledge that there was no going back home. She grounds me. Reminds me that there are more important things in this life.

“I don’t want to keep lying.” I finally find the words to start.

“I mean, I don’t like it either, but we agreed—”

“Not to everyone else.” I look up, meeting her confused eyes. “To you.”

Her hands jerk in mine, but I keep hold. “To me? What are you lying to me about?”

I take a deep breath, bracing myself for some kind of explosion. Good or bad, I’m not sure. “It’s not just sex. For me.” Ophie doesn’t say anything, and I keep babbling, not sure how to stop once the words start. My focus drifts back to our hands as I stumble through my confession.

“I love you. Not just as my best friend. I mean, youaremy best friend. You’ll always be my best friend. But I don’t know if that’s enough. Not anymore.” I turn my head to the side, afraid to see her expression.

“Philip, I—” Ophie chokes off the word and falls silent.

The quiet is broken only by the slam of a car door outside and the rumble of Nate’s engine starting.

As my heart slams against my ribcage, Ophie shifts, releasing me as she stands. I let go of her hands, tucking mine between my knees, my shoulders slumping. A moment later, she sits beside me on the couch, right in my line of vision.

Her brown eyes are glassy, a tear threatening to fall from one. Her chin quivers as she parts her lips to take a breath. “You ninny,” she whispers, the words broken and catching as she hiccups. “It’s not enough for me either.”

The rest of her words are cut off as I cup her jaw and pull her in. I need to kiss her again like I need to breathe. In a desert, she’s my oasis. The air my lungs burn for after a deep dive. My home. Touching her, tasting her, melting into her—it’s not a choice.

Ophie makes a contented noise, kissing me back as fiercely as I’m kissing her. Lightning strikes as her hands slide undermy shirt, leaving hot trails against my stomach and chest. Eventually, I pull back with a relieved chuckle.

“I love you, Ophelia.” The words are so familiar. I’ve said them to her a million times before today, but I never meant them like this before. “You are everything to me. My best friend, my better half, the rock who keeps me from drowning.”

She opens her mouth, but I keep going, laying my finger across her lips so I can finish. “You are smart. Determined. Gentle and compassionate. Why you put up with my silly ass is beyond me, but I am so thankful that you do. Also, you’re hot as hell. Like, definitely out of my league.”

“Don’t say that—” She smacks lightly at my arm.

I grin, but I’m right and she knows it. “Mrs. van der Merwe, I love you. Can we please make this marriage real?”

Ophie

For the first timesince Vegas, being called Mrs. van der Merwe makes my stomach swoop in a good way. Philip’s confession has been slowly melting me from the inside out. At this point, the only thing holding me together might be my skin, and even that is two seconds away from melting off me.

“Are you asking me to date you? Like, officially?” I have to ask. We’ve been so nebulous for so long that all I want right now is clarity.

Philip grabs me by the hips and pulls me over his lap again so we’re eye to eye. “No, Ophelia. We’ve been ‘dating’ for two years. I want to be married to you. Forever. With everything that comes with it.”

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