No, this was infinitely worse.
This was Lincoln Steele—my fake husband and apparent protector—reading my cues. Like he knew me. Like hegotme.
And that was absolutely terrifying.
“And let’s face it,” he continued. “You put Willa in any room, and she’lldefinitelybe the center of attention.”
A chorus of awws rose from the table, but I couldn’t drag my gaze away from Lincoln’s. Just what the hell was he playing at here? Thishadto be a trick or a con or a…I didn’t know.
What it absolutely couldnotbe was real.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LINCOLN
Willa stompedinto the silo like she was trying to wake the dead. Or pretending like she was smashing my skull in. Either was plausible.
After I’d gotten my mom to agree not to throw any parties, we’d said our goodbyes, and I’d hitched a ride with Willa since I hadn’t driven my car over to Xander’s.
The entire drive back to the farm had been filled with heavy silence. The kind where I’d known something was churning through her mind—probably all the different ways she could kill me in my sleep.
And that was only confirmed as she paced around our small space like a bull in a pen.
I leaned against the island, hands tucked in my pockets as I watched her vibrate with irritation. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t kind of hot. Then again,everythingabout Willa Jameson was kind of hot. It was why I’d spent the vast majority of the past hour thinking about that dirt smeared on her thigh and wondering just how far up the smudge went.
“You wanna talk about what has you in a tizzy?” I asked.
She whirled on me, her glare hot enough that I half expected to find myself suddenly a pile of ash on the floor. “You called me yourwifein front of yourentire family!”
“So what? Youaremy wife.”
Her stormy expression faltered for half a heartbeat, and something I couldn’t quite name flickered across her face—as startling as lightning and gone just as fast.
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear a part of herlikedhearing when I called her that.
“This marriage is a means to an end. That’s it,” she said, her voice clipped. “We’re doing this for one reason and one reason only.”
“So you can be my arm candy?”
Her nostrils flared as she took a deep breath. “For thegrant, jackass. I’m heading to the library tomorrow to work on it.”
I slowly walked around the island toward her. “You know what we should be working on?”
She narrowed her eyes at my approach. “I swear to god, if you tell me?—”
“Your resistance to physical affection.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you jerked away from me at the party.”
“You’re the one who came in for a kiss without warning!”
“Oh.” I cocked my head, not even trying to tamp down my smirk. “You mean like most married people do?”
She looked at me like she was mentally drafting my obituary, but I didn’t budge. She knew I was right, and that was confirmed when her shoulders sagged a moment later.
“I see your point,” she said, though conceding to me was obviously painful for her. “But I can’t help it. I’m allergic to jackasses.”
