I frown.
“But if at any point you change your mind, I’d like some notice. A chance to come up with a plan B.” He swallows, then grins awkwardly. “Or hell, maybe a chance to change it back.”
My stomach flips.
And that pretty much seals the deal for me, contract or no contract. How could I walk away from a man who doesn’t believe in locking a woman down, temporarily taking away her freedom?
Even if it would mean losing his daughter.
“I’d have signed anything you wanted me to,” I assure him without a doubt in my mind.
He watches me. “I appreciate that. But even if you did, I’d never hold it against you if you wanted out. So .?.?. it’s sort of a moot point.”
I close the distance so there’s no mistaking it. “Dallas, I don’t want you to worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
His features flatten.
“Yet, I mean. Until .?.?.” I shrug. “Until Ellie’s safely,legallyyours.” My eyes drop to his chest. “And until Noah feels there’s been a safe amount of time before we realize this,” I point between us with a sheepish grin, “didn’t work out.”
The idea makes my heart hurt a little.
Which is insane, because it’s nothing personal. It’s just what it is. A temporary arrangement. A pre-planned departure. A closed heart.
“I believe you,” he says, his eyes sturdy and warm. “You know, it’s not often someone does anything selfless for me.” He pinches the bridge of his nose like he can’t wrap his head around it. “Hell, it’s not often I see that at all.” He smirks. “You sure there’s nothing I need to know about? They didn’t find a dead body in that apartment of yours, did they?”
I shake my head. I don’t even laugh along.
Should I tell him about the inheritance? What if I change my mind? What if Rose is right and I’m only hurting myself by not taking it?
No. Dallas is paying me plenty, enough to afford a decent apartment in the city for a few months while I work on booking those high-end venues so I can afford some decent recording equipment.
I won’t cheat Grandma on what she wanted for me. I won’t lie to myself that I earned that money.
In the end, I’ll respect myself that much more.
“No dead bodies,” I confirm. And make the decision that he doesn’t need to know about something that isn’t happening. “Just doing what feels right.”
He nods, a sliver of a smile forming on his lips. “How’s a week from next Sunday?”
“For what?”
This time he gives me an almost-full grin. “Our wedding.”
19
“What’s your problem today?” Silas asks, like I’m the one who’s making a production out of coiling up a rope. He’s wearing jeans that probably cost too much, spotless sneakers, and a white long-sleeved shirt that looks brand new.
“You, showing up dressed like that. Give me that.” I snatch the rope away and roll it up like it’s second nature, then hang it up on the peg in the barn I built just outside my house.
“Nothing wrong with clean clothes,” he says dryly, voice distant like I’ve offended him. But Silas doesn’t offend easily, so I’m suddenly on alert. He also never offers to stick around for a weekend to help with land work. He rolls his shoulder back, looking off to the side. “What’s next? Is it indoors?”
I blink, glancing at the house.It can’t be indoors. Willow’s in there with a yoga mat spread out and an outfit that definitely should have gone on the ground rules list.
Did we even make a list? The hell is even on it? It was only two nights ago—fresh off the high of our kiss, exhausted from faking, smiling, and stressing—that we came up with said list.
I bet she doesn’t even remember it.
I turn back to Silas. It’s hockey season and he was back at my house Saturday morning to help with some finishing touches. Then insisted on staying the weekend to spend some time with his niece.
