Page 44 of Bourbon and Proof

She barks out a laugh, interrupting. “Sorry, but why is it me who’s been pining for you and not you yearning for me?”

I raise an eyebrow as she stares at me, no longer interested in the moves on the chessboard. The funny part is, I’m incredibly good at keeping my feelings and emotions intact and beneath the exterior.If she only knew how close to the truth she actually is.

“Are you saying that because it’s a more believable story? Or do you think—” she asks softly. “Why would you say that?” Vulnerability is laced in that question, and it makes me pause. I hadn’t taken into consideration that there may be truth in it on her end. She’s pushed and said plenty, but I haven’t ever stopped to think there’s more to it than her wanting to challenge me. That kiss aside, I haven’t allowed the idea to even be a possibility. I couldn’t. And...I still can’t.

When she leans against the arm of her chair, my white dress shirt shifts. Her shoulder peeks out along the wide opening where she seems to have forgotten there are buttons.

My eyes follow its movement, and I grip onto my glass so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t crack as I swallow down more bourbon. I’m the one who said I’d be honest, and if this is going to work, I owe hersometruths.

“I won’t lie to my brothers,” I say, making sure she knows that’s a non-negotiable. “Griz?” I shrug. “I can work around him,but Linc and Grant are a hard line for me. If they ask, I’ll tell them the truth of how we came to be married.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then they can believe whatever they’d like.”

“Thatyou’rein love with me,” she says, pushing the pawn in the exact place I was expecting. I advance my queen, taking her pawn. And she’s confused why I’d risk it by the way she studies the board, taking another measured sip of her drink. Her fingers graze along the top of her foot, which she can reach easily by the way her legs are tucked beneath her.

“That we’re married regardless of the reasons.” I study the board and think about where she’d go next. “And that should be respected.”

“I’m assuming I’ll be living here?” she asks.

“It makes more sense.”

Her lips tilt up just as she takes another sip. “And I’ll be sleeping...”

I mirror her movement and take a drink. “You’ll be in my room. If Griz wasn’t here, it’d be easier to have your own space, but I’d rather avoid the attention it’ll draw if you move into the guest suite.”

“I don’t really cook,” she says. “Unless you count my version of girl dinner.”

I pause, not really sure what the hell that is. “What’s ‘girl dinner’?’”

She gives me a leveling glare, like somehow, I’ve royally fucked up. So I mentally note that and just tell her, “Besides making breakfast for me and Griz and hosting family dinners on Fridays—although Laney likes to cook for those lately—you’ve been here long enough to know we have a private chef that does meals for the week. Just leave any special requests.”

Even though she nods, I can tell there’s more on her mind as she pictures what this is going to look like—us living together.Her bringing up cooking isn’t relevant, more like a warm-up. So I keep going with the more important and compromising parts of this arrangement.

“I don’t want you to change anything about your business or the things that are important in your life, but you’ll need to accompany me to things. You’ll need to play the part of a loving and devoted partner.”

She smiles, her pointy, red-chipped nail resting on her front teeth as she does it. “Devoted?”

I try to ground myself regarding the next few things I’m about to say. “I don’t expect to hear about your life through my brother. He’s your best friend, but I’ll be your husband for all intents and purposes. There are plenty of things I’m capable of handling, but I can’t help or figure it out if I don’t know.”

Glancing at the chessboard, she visibly swallows.

“And while this might not be a typical marriage, I recognize there are things...” I clear my throat once again. “I don’t want to find someone in my home or in my bed.”

Her eyes shoot back to mine. “Are you serious?”

I hate knowing how this woman has no qualms about leaning into her sexuality. She doesn’t cower behind it or prudishly keep quiet. I respect it, but fuck, do I hate it.

She barks out a laugh when I look at her pointedly. “Are you serious right now? What about you? Does this go both ways?”

“Of course, this goes both ways. I won’t allow a third party putting this agreement at risk or making either one of us look like we’re cheating pieces of shit.” I try to read her reaction, but for the first time—maybe ever—I have no idea what’s going through her head. “You know how this town talks. The two of us getting married is already going to catch like fire.”

“And if I’d rather not follow this particular rule?”

I do my best not to physically respond to her words. Clenching my teeth, I swirl what’s left in my glass, giving myselfa moment to calm the nerve that remark just hit. “Rules are meant to be followed, Hadley.”

She moves another pawn. “I don’t think that’s how the phrase goes.”

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