“Hayden,” Kale calls out, and I refuse to look her in the eyes. Oops.
“I guess he knows my name now.” Snark oozes from her words, and the side of my face burns with the lasers Hayden is shooting at me.
If I looked at her now, I’d probably drop dead from the beams.
From my side gaze, I watch her grab her coffee. As she attempts to chat with Kale, I make a beeline for our table.
The marriage contract is sitting face up, stirring anxiety within my chest. I flip it over with a harsh thud and my hand lingers pressed on the contract. She should know better than to leave a document like this out in the open for the world to see. I glance to the two men in suits standing in opposing corners of the room. I guess they could easily catch anyone attempting to take my stuff, but still. That’s not my agents’ responsibility. Hayden sits down at the table, and now it’s my turn to shoot eye lasers at her.
“Why did you leave this document unattended?”
She makes a show of looking around at the shop, and I follow her gaze—only the baristas, the old man I bumped into, a couple of teens, a young woman, and my agents occupy the building with us.
“Who’s going to care?”
“You never know.” I’m feeling more at ease remembering Five Four Coffee isn’t crowded like usual. The Marshall name has been dragged through the mud because of my father’s cheating scandals,and I’ve put my blood, sweat, and tears into my image to burst from his dark shadow. People rarely associate me with him now, and it’s of utmost importance that this marriage contract with Hayden never leaves the hands of the few parties involved. All anyone needs to know is that we fell madly in love while she comforted me post break-up with Priscilla. A quick, whirlwind romance.
The media would have a field day if they found out I was paying my campaign manager to marry me. Hayden has garnished enough respect from fellow politicians and has a positive image in public opinion. I’m banking on her small, but growing popularity within the public sphere to nail my father’s reputation into the grave forever. Hopefully people will love our “love” story: two people who grew to love one another while working side by side as I grieved the ending of my previous engagement.
“Um, Mr. Marshall? Are you going to sit down?”
Coffee shops are too public for this conversation. “How do you feel about going back to the office?”
A quizzical expression streaks across her face, but she stands up and grabs her coffee. I tuck the contract back into the manila envelope, wondering why she even took it out just to leave the table in the first place.
Hayden reaches for the contract after I’ve closed the envelope, but I hold it out and away from her. “This stays in my hands from now on.” I begin to walk toward the exit.
“Starting soon, what’s yours is mine, mydarling Darcy.”
My feet freeze on their own accord hearing my first name on her tongue. She’s only used it a few times now, but I’m not sure it will ever cease to stop me in my tracks.
“Goodness. I almost ran into you. Stop stopping on a dime. That would have been twice in two weeks that I’ve spilled coffee because of you.”
Abruptly, I turn to face her. She’s way too close for comfort, so I step back from her burning chocolate eyes. I swallow. “No pet names. Just Darcy will do.”
Hayden’s eyes lose their playful spark, and she nods her head. I did it again. I said something in a harsh tone that hurt her feelings.
Is hurting her feelings worth not hearing my name on her lips? Is making her eyes dull with sadness worth avoiding the thrill that ricocheted through my body because of the velvety way she said my name? Like promises of things to come.
Yes, it has to be worth it.
When it comes to Hayden Bennett, thrill is not an emotion I can let myself experience. I can’t let the woman who embodies sunlight continue to thaw my icy, controlled exterior. The moment I let someone in is the moment they will use my story against me.
“You don’t need an apartment anymore, Hayden. What would people think if it was leaked that you had a place of your own?” I’m doing some serious rethinking about marrying this stubborn woman. How can she not see the obvious conundrum she is putting us in by demanding to keep a lousy apartment?
She leans forward, placing a forearm on her crossed legs. Her chocolate eyes glare daggers at me. “Because I need a space away fromyou.”
“Ha,” I scoff. “As if I would be in your way often enough for you to need privacy. I will be the one needing to get away fromyou.” She sneers, but I continue. “Come to think of it, maybeIshould have my own apartment.”
“Get your own apartment then, but I am keeping mine, Darcy.”
A slight shudder runs down my spine at my name on her tongue. That will take a while to get used to, I fear. Maybe it would be good for her to be able to get out of my space.
“Fine,” I bite. I make a mental note to contact her landlord later and find out more details about this apartment she’s so desperately wanting.
“Fine.” She sits up and crosses her arms, a smug expression filling her face. She only won because I decided to let her, but I keep that information to myself.
“Why did you cross out the dress requirement, Hayden?”
