She tries to jerk her hand away, but I don’t let her. She reaches over and does one of those pinch-twist things on my side. It hurts, but I still don’t let go.
She glares up at me. “They were said while I was very sleepy and in my bed.”
“And here you are. You should still be home sleeping. I told you I was only stopping by for a little bit.”
“Alexander texted me,” she blurts out. “I’m actually kind of serious about that place your Grandpa was talking about for a possible distillery and bakery.”
“So, this is only about business for you?” Why do I care so much about her answer? Because Ilikeher.
“Well, I’m not here for the marriage, am I?” she asks.
I release her wrist and wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her tight against my side so I can bend down and whisper in her ear, “It’s a bad idea for us to keep spending time together.”
“And I told you earlier that I was a gold digger. If Icould lease this space from your Grandpa, I promise I’ll make it a good deal for both of us.”
“What if you hate Pine Ridge? What about when we ‘break up?’”
“We’re going to have to break up sometime,” she agrees. “But whether it’s now or next week might be the difference in how strong he is to receive the news.”
“And you think he’d still want to work with you on a distillery, even when you’re my ex-fiancée?” I ask, frustrated that there’s a burning in my chest at the thought of her not being my fake fiancée anymore.
What is wrong with me? Why am I so angry at the idea of not being around her anymore?
“It will depend on how well he likes the business plan I pitch him. I’m not expecting to have things handed to me, but this is an opportunity I don’t want to miss.”
I can feel her warmth against my cheek, and I hate it. I hate that she’s sticking around because of a business opportunity—which is unfair, I know—but I want her to stay because ofme.
I immediately release her and take two quick steps back.Where did that come from?
I don’t even know her. She’s someone I met in a building and hired to be my fiancée, and now I’m upset that she’s interested in a business rather than me. A business she’s thought about for years. And I’m trying to begrudge her for using a connection through my grandfather?
Grandpa knows so many people. Of course he would have ideas for how she could start her distillery. Grandpa loves starting new businesses with young entrepreneurs.
And here I am, standing here, upset, because she didn’twalk through that door to continue pretending to be my fake fiancée.
I need to get a grip and remember my priorities.
“Fine. Let’s go talk to Grandpa and see what he has to say.”
She makes little pinching fingers in the air and looks at me threateningly. “Just know, if you decide to be a bully again, I’m not afraid to fight back.”
A slow grin spreads across my face, and I reach forward and grasp her hand, pulling her after me toward the kitchen.
“We’ll see about that.”
She has to run to keep up with me and doesn’t get an opportunity to pinch my side until we’re standing on the other side of the island, watching Grandpa rifle through the fridge.
I yelp when she steps closer and pinches my side with her free hand. I latch on to that hand and hold it in mine, so now both of her hands are intertwined with mine and pressed against my side.
Grandpa turns around and looks at us. “Oh, it’s so good to see you getting along so well. Young love is such a nice thing.”
If Grandpa wasn’t looking at us, I’m pretty sure Magnolia might try to bite me. She’s glaring up at me and trying to wiggle her hands free.
“We were just having an argument,” Magnolia tells him.
“Oh, a lovers’ spat,” Grandpa says.
“Something like that,” I grind out as she steps on my foot with her heeled shoe.
