“If you guys didn’t want me to notice, you shouldn’t have been kissing each other all the time.”
“I guess we’ll have to work on that,” Noah said.
“I don’t care,” Gennie replied. “It’s not gross anymore. I’m used to it now.”
“That’s a relief,” he said under his breath.
“Is Shay going to move in? I think that’s what married people do. They live together in the same house.” She hit me with a big, expectant smile. “You can sleep in my room. I like the top bunk better but you can have it if you want.”
I stared at Gennie and Noah, my fingers growing numb around the whisk.No.No, no, no. That wasn’t an option. I was lonely in Lollie’s big, empty house but it wasmybig, empty place to be lonely. It was where I wallowed in self-pity and invented wild explanations for the ex’s exit from my life, where I drank wine in my underwear and ate pudding for breakfast. It was my cocoon, my safe, private space where I didn’t have to pretend everything was all right and I could be as miserable or drunk or morose as I wanted. I needed Lollie’s house more than I needed to maintain appearances on my fake marriage.
But if anyone figured it out—if they ever put together the terms of Lollie’s estate and Noah’s quest to snap up all the land on this side of the cove—it would be bad for us. Really bad.
The school wouldn’t want a half-witted con artist teaching impressionable children. The town wouldn’t want to buy milk and apples and raspberry jam from the farmer who defrauded an estate to grab some bargain-priced land. People around here had memories that stretched back generations. They wouldn’t soon forget this and they wouldn’t rush to forgive Noah either. Not to mention Gennie. God, things were hard enough on her as it was. She didn’t need us piling on and making it worse with our antics.
I had to move in here. I had to leave my cocoon and my underwear wine behind. Unless I wanted to abandon everything—my teaching assignment, Lollie’s farm, Noah and Gennie and everything we had going—I had to do this. I had to keep playing this game.
When I met Noah’s gaze from across the room, his brows pinched and furrowed, it was clear he knew it too and he hated it as much as I did.
“I’m going to talk to my toys until the pancakes are ready,” Gennie announced. “I think you guys need some alone time.”
Once she was gone, Noah let out a long breath. His hands fell open on the tabletop. “I had no idea that she”—he pressed his palms to his eyes—“that she picked up on all that. When did she start reading everything on my screen? Hell, when did she start reading?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I shook my head, hoping to locate some levity in the midst of the wreckage I’d brought to everyone’s lives. “Where would I find the”—I swirled my hands in front of me—“the thing to cook a pancake on? The flat surface thing.”
Noah pushed to his feet, a scowl carving grooves around his mouth and eyes as he approached. He took stock of the aggressively beaten eggs and the other ingredients I’d lined up like brave soldiers. “This isn’t how you make pancakes.”
“It’s not?” I tipped my head up to meet his gaze. “I don’t actually have a lot of experience with pancakes. It just sounded like a good project for the moment.”
He dropped his hands to my waist and backed me into the corner of the cabinets. The one from last night. The one with the biting. And…everything. With one swift movement, he picked me up, plopped my ass on the countertop, and pushed my legs wide-open. “Can we just go back to bed and pretend none of this ever happened?”
That sounded like a brilliant idea. Really and truly brilliant. But— “We can’t do that again, Noah. We can’t make this any more complicated.”
He nuzzled into my neck and slipped a hand into my shirt. I mean, it was his shirt. Not that any of it mattered when his thumb stroked over my nipple, steady and firm and reminding me of all the things we should’ve been doing this morning.
“It’s always been complicated, wife.”
I ran my hands up his back, over his shoulders. “I’m not going to say last night was a mistake—”
“Thank god.”
“—but I don’t want to do that again.”
He leaned back, shot me a growly frown. “Why not? It wasn’t good for you?”
“It wasamazingfor me.” I couldn’t downplay it even if I wanted to. I was still recovering from the unbelievable high of all those orgasms. “Everythingwas amazing.”
He settled between my legs, pressing tight to my center. I groaned at the feel of him, heavy and luscious against my most sensitive spots. “Tell me again about these complications.”
“We don’t want to make things more difficult,” I ground out. “We can’t sleep together anymore.”
He brought his hands to my backside, shifting me to the edge of the countertop and then steering my body to slide right up against his in the most devastating ways. My inner muscles clenched hard, hard enough for a painful throb to radiate out from my core and leave all of me aching.
He scraped his teeth along the base of my neck. “Good luck with that plan.”
“Maybe one more time,” I said, my voice whiny and far away. “But just thatonetime.”
“If that’s what you want to tell yourself, go right ahead.”
