Page 18 of Somehow You Knew

Little did I know she would be the woman who helped add a checkmark on the bucket list my aunt had all but forced on me after my life imploded thanks to my father and his lies.

The sad part is, that’s the only task I completed off that list—because as soon as I touched her, I felt something in me shift, a connection that I couldn’t explain that’s haunted me ever since, and connection is the last thing I fucking need.

Loneliness.

That is the only avenue for me, and my aunt fucking knew that’s what I wanted.

Figures she’d try to fight me on that decision even after she died.

But how do I say no to this opportunity? How do I deny Hazel a life-changing amount of money? And how do I pass up the chance to open my own tattoo shop like I’ve always wanted?

I venture down the hall and into my aunt’s room. I take a seat on her neatly made bed and the scent of her perfume immediately hits my nose. The wind chimes ring again outside, and I stare out the window, trying to convince myself that I can do this—that I can agree to a marriage for six months and come out on the other side unscathed.

I’ve spent two years perfecting the art of shutting off my feelings. Hell, when women started calling me an asshole instead of charming, I knew my transformation was working. I didn’t want to give them the wrong impression—that they would get anything more out of me than the physical connection I was offering.

But even that can’t happen with Hazel.

If my aunt thought forcing us to get married was going to change my mind about being alone for the rest of my life, she was sadly mistaken. I have to hand it to her though, dangling a 5.1 million dollar carrot definitely has me considering sacrificing six months of my life.

As long as we can agree to some terms and boundaries, six months will go by in a flash.

So before I can talk myself out of it, I shoot Hazel a text and pray to God—if there is one—that I’m not making the biggest mistake of my life.

***

I twist the ring on my middle finger as I stare out the window of Keely’s, waiting for Hazel to arrive. A knot of doubt tightens in my throat, and my stomach twists with nerves. Even though my life down in Florida is calling to me, begging for me to return, I know what I need to do for myself and for Hazel. I’d be stupid to walk away from this opportunity.

The front door chimes, and when I turn in that direction, my eyes instantly lock onto Hazel’s long, tan legs peeking out from under the hem of her cutoff jean shorts.

Fuck, those legs would look fantastic wrapped around my shoulders.

I shake off that thought and stand to greet her. “Good morning.”

She eyes me curiously. “Is it?”

“Are you going to have a sarcastic reply for everything I say?” I ask as we take our seats.

Keely comes over to take Hazel’s order, and once she leaves, Hazel crosses her arms, her gaze sweeping over me like she’s debating whether I’m worth the energy. “I’m sorry. Am I supposed to be kind to you after this little turn of events?”

I can’t help my smirk. “Please, elaborate.”

She rolls her eyes. “You know what? Never mind.”

I lean forward in my chair. “No, Spitfire. Tell me. Tell me why you’re pissed at me.”

“I’m not pissed,” she starts, glancing away. “Annoyedis more appropriate.”

“Because…”

Her eyes narrow, and I can’t deny that her irritation is only making her more attractive.

Focus, Gage. Thoughts like that are exactly what you need to avoid.

“Are you honestly going to play dumb with me?”

“I just want to hear you say it.”

She just glares at me, and I have to fight the grin tugging at my lips.

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