Jesusfuck, she was sexy.
“All right.” I leaned against the counter and crossed my arms. “Lay it on me.”
“Rule one…” Willa lifted her eyes to meet mine, her expression dialed todo not fuck with me. “No funny business.”
The corners of my mouth twitched, but I cleared my throat and nodded like this was a perfectly reasonable ask. “What, exactly, is ‘funny business’? Just to make sure we’re both on the same page.”
She held up her hand, ticking off the restrictions on her fingers. “No kissing. No touching. No flirting.”
Her tone was firm, brooking no argument. But, unfortunately for her, I wasn’t a man who was easily discouraged.
“Afraid I’m gonna need clarification on all three,” I said. “Because unless you plan to avoid every human in town till you get this grant money, some of that is going to be unavoidable.”
She narrowed her eyes on me. “For starters, I mean you can’t flirt with me, jackass.”
I hummed thoughtfully and rubbed a hand down my stubbled jaw. “So it’s okay ifyouflirt withme?”
“I’m not going to flirt with you.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” My tone was low, but she heard it, her attention snapping to me. “Those jeans are doing a lot of heavy lifting today, hellcat.”
She aimed the pen at me like it was a dagger. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.”
I shrugged. “Not my fault you’re hot. And as yourhusband, I’ll be telling you that. Frequently. You want honesty in this fake marriage, don’t you?”
“I don’t want this fake marriage at all!” She threw up her hands in exasperation. “And you don’t have to broadcast all of your thoughts to the entire world.”
“Tell you what…” I braced my hands on the bar top and leaned toward her, my gaze skating over every inch I could see. “I’ll stop shouting my thoughts about how good you look when you stop being so loud in your hotness.”
Her breath hitched the tiniest bit as she stared at me. Barely there, but I noticed. Also noticed when her gaze dipped to my mouth for half a second before snapping back up like she’d touched a hot stove.
And there it was.
That ever-present spark between us she pretended not to feel or even notice.
But I noticed. Every fucking day.
“All I’m saying is if the goal is for us to look like a real couple, we’re going to have to do some things real couples do. Like kiss. Or, you know,touch. And I flirt with Mabel, so I’m sure as fuck going to flirt with my wife.”
“I’m sure we can convince the gossip hounds in other ways.”
I raised a brow. “Like what? Flashing them our marriage certificate anytime suspicions arise?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“And when people begin whispering about how it’s weird I don’t kiss my wife…ever? What, then?”
“Then we’ll—” She huffed. “I don’t know! We’ll come up with a special handshake. Or a wave.”
I stared at her, barely suppressing my grin. Okay, not at all suppressing my grin. “I have a special handshake with my niece. I’m sure Emma would love to have one with you too. And the only time I wave is at one of the many parades this town hosts.”
“Well, you’re going to have to crack out both more often for your wife.”
“Uh-huh. And you think that will satisfy the regulars here at the bar? Or Mabel? Or my mom, who will probably have baby name books checked out from the library fifteen minutes after we tell her the news?”
“Baby name books?” Willa nearly shrieked, the mask of horror on her face comical. “Kids aren’t part of the plan! That’s why we’re getting married. There’ll be no…” She cleared her throat and glanced away. “Procreating.”
“So, breeding is only done in your books.” I nodded firmly, grabbing a pen from the register and pretending to scribble a note on a napkin. “Only in books… Got it.”
