“We need to talk about boundaries. Physical ones.” I kept my hand over hers, my thumb tracing across her knuckles. “I need to know what you’re comfortable with.”
She stared down at our joined hands. “I don’t know. I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Neither have I.”
She looked up then, surprised. “You haven’t?”
“Marriage of convenience? Fake wife? Nah. This is new territory for me. Hell, a serious relationship in general is.” I squeezed her hand gently. “But I meant what I said last night. I’m not going to treat this like you owe me something. Whatever happens between us happens because we both want it to.”
She was quiet for a long moment, processing. “And if nothing happens?”
“Then nothing happens. We play our parts until we don’t need to, then go our separate ways.”
“And if something does?”
I leaned closer, close enough to see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes. “Then we figure it out as we go.”
She didn’t pull away when I reached up to touch her face, my thumb brushing across her cheek. Her skin was soft, warm, and I could see her pulse jumping in her throat.
“I’m keeping my eye on you, Mr. Grimson,” she said, pointing her finger at me with a mock-serious expression.
“That’s probably smart, to be honest. I can see this working out, and I know that scares you, but plan to be pleasantly surprised.”
“Did you plot this out in your head? Because you seem eerily confident about how this is going to go. I could be just as crazy as you.”
I grinned, standing up and extending my hand to her. “Mark my words, Mrs. Grimson. Come on, I need to get you added to my accounts, get you keys, all that. Malice is coming to move most of your stuff later. You can take any room you want, or we can share.”
“Share?” She raised an eyebrow. “Be serious, Lesley.”
“What? I can share a room with you. You ain’t all that,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.
“Okay, let’s see then, smart ass.”
We both laughed, and for a second, the whole situation felt natural. Real. We were now just two people figuring out how to live together, rather than two people bound by necessity and circumstance.
“See?” I said, squeezing her hand. “I told you this could work.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” she said, but she was smiling. “We haven’t even made it through one full day yet.”
“Day one starts now.”
“Day one,” she agreed, giving me goosebumps.
Day one of forever.
Two Weeks Later
Coco had officially moved into my penthouse. She didn’t bring much with her because her mortgage had been paid up for the year. I wasn't sure how I felt about keeping her place. I didn’t want her running to hide from me, but I was doing my best to trust her. The transition wouldn’t be easy; she was going from a single, independent woman to the wife of a boss.
The penthouse was quiet; all that could be heard was her humming, off-key but happy, the sound bouncing off the countertops and floating down the hall. I’d fallen in love with the normalcy she brought.
Coco didn’t sing loudly. She wasn’t putting on. She was just... in a good mood. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t catch me off guard. It always did. Most of the women I’d ever dealt with justweren’t as down-to-earth as her. They were too busy spending my money instead of finding their own.
That wasn’t Coco; she was about her business. Some days she was just as busy as I was, and I enjoyed it. The fact that I knew this was going to work out was being proven each day she stumbled into the kitchen to greet me.
I was nursing my coffee, leaning against the kitchen counter, when she bounced into view. Hair wild, curls full of life, body wrapped in a denim dress that hung off one shoulder and stopped just above her thighs. Her skin glowed. Bare legs, fresh face, and sandals, she looked good, but she always did. I learned that quickly when she showed up in that damn red dress I still thought about often.
She opened the fridge and pulled out strawberries, shifting my morning with the joy radiating off her.
