I nodded, pressing my face into him before I glanced up to find his eyes already on me. “You can stop asking me that every time after. I’m always going to be better than okay when it’s you.”
He let out a breath that seemed almost relieved, his arm sliding under my neck and his other hand resting at my waist, his fingers drawing lazy circles on my hip. “Come here.”
“You say that like I’m not already wrapped around you like ivy.” I felt a smile tug at the corners of my lips, somehow shifting even closer.
His breath warmed the top of my head. “Yeah, but I would sleep on top of you if I could.”
“We could try it sometime.”
A soft chuckle rumbled through his chest. “I’d squish you and I desperately don’t want that.”
I pressed my face into him, smiling as I burrowed into his side. For a long time after that, neither of us spoke, but his hand kept moving over my hip, up my spine, and down my arm. Eventually, his touches slowed and his breathing deepened.
He was drifting, the weight of him settling more fully into me. Exhaustion tugged at my limbs too and I let my fingers trail along the side of his ribs, feeling every breath he took. His chest rose and fell under my cheek, steady and strong, a rhythm I could fall asleep to for the rest of my life.
I closed my eyes and rested my palm over my husband’s heart, and even half asleep, he covered my hand with his own. I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, what Chicago would demand from us, how messy things would get, or who might try to tear us apart, but wrapped in Trent’s arms, I felt at peace.
Nothing could get to us. Not anymore. No matter what it took, we would fight for each other and it was that thought that finally relaxed me enough to let sleep pull me under.
I woke up to quiet, the bed still warm where Trent had been, but he was gone, only a faint indentation left in the mattress and the soft, lingering smell of him on the bedding. It was no surprise, though. The guy was always up before even the sun, hard at work before most of us had even started thinking about waking up.
Smiling as I stared at the place where his head had been, I stretched slowly, every muscle deliciously loose and still tingling with a sleepy afterglow. Last night, just like every other time with him, felt unreal in the best possible way.
After just lying there like a lovestruck puppy for a little while, I decided to go see if he was around. He was always up but not always out.
I slipped out of bed and pulled on my robe, bare feet quiet in the hall on the way to his study. By the time I reached the first floor, the sun had finally fought its way through the clouds, casting soft, pale gold over the tiled floors.
Trent’s office door was cracked open and I pushed it wider, leaning against the frame for a moment, just looking at him. He was in his chair with his long legs kicked out, his boots crossed at the ankles.
His hat was tossed on top of a stack of documents, his hair already mussed. The morning sun spilled across his shoulders, highlighting the broad, easy set of them. I padded inside and slid my arms over his shoulders from behind, but he didn’t startle, just leaning back into my touch like he’d been waiting for it, his hands slipping up to cover mine.
“Morning,” I murmured, brushing my cheek against his temple.
He tilted his head slightly, giving me the softest smile as those blues met mine. “Morning, wife.”
I melted a little. I still couldn’t help it, but I’d realized somewhere between here and our bedroom that part of the original reason why he’d agreed to be my fake boyfriend had been because of that party.
A lot had happened since then, many things changing for me, but Trent’s main reasoning had been to be taken more seriously. I’d been so wrapped up in the news he’d received from Jameson that I’d forgotten to even ask him about how the day had gone for him.
“Was the party a success?” I asked, moving around him and perching on the edge of his desk, my legs brushing his knee. “Did we win? Are people taking you seriously now?”
He let out a quiet, satisfied laugh. “A few of my dad’s friends are interested in the breeding program now, which means he has to admit I was right. Honestly? That was all I wanted.”
I grinned. “Victory looks good on you.”
“It’ll look better when the checks clear.”
I nudged his knee with mine. “So, what are we doing now? Besides basking in the glory of your triumph?”
“Farm chores,” he said simply.
My face fell. “Ugh.”
He smirked, smug and entirely too amused, but it faded fast, replaced by something a lot more serious. He reached out and tugged gently at my wrist until I slid off the desk and onto his lap. “Before I get to that though, we need to talk about today.”
My stomach flipped. “Okay. What about it?”
“I’m leaving for Chicago tonight,” he said, his voice steady but tone his edged with something much sharper. “I need to go get this marriage hashed out and finalized. Hopefully, this will be the last trip there for a while.”
