Page 61

Barely Holding it Together

The sample tequila is actually pretty smooth. I only wince a little, and the second glass of it goes down easy. It’s a green light, which means it’s time to really get down to work.

Another week comes and goes. We start making some decisions, and it feels like everything is coming together smoothly—especially given that this is my first ever client.

We’re just very simpatico when it comes to decisions, which honestly shocks the hell out of me. I never thought I’d be so aligned with a pro hockey player an entire decade older than me, yet that’s exactly where we are.

It feels…weird driving home after work on a Friday from Ev’s office near the Strip over to Summerlin, where Cash lives. Where I live now, too. It feels like I’m a resident of Nevada now instead of just visiting like how it felt living with my sister.

It feels like I’m carving out a place for myself…even if this whole marriage with Cash is conveniently fake.

He gave me an extra garage door opener, and I push the button and find a vacant spot to pull my car next to his big, black truck.

I still think it’s funny that it was him who stole that parking spot from me the day he showed up trying to track me down.

I shake my head. It’s a little hard to believe that this is suddenly my life. Almost exactly a month ago, I turned twenty-two, and then my entire life changed in the snap of a finger.

I head inside and find Cash on a ladder in the kitchen as he changes out the air filters. One look at Cash Maddox would not instantly make a person think he looks like the kind of guy who changes his air filters regularly and takes the time to care for his home, yet that’s exactly what he’s doing. I wonder what other sorts of home improvement projects he takes on, whether that’s an offseason hobby of his.

I want to know those intimate details about him. Those are things I should know about the man I’m married to, right?

He climbs down from the ladder and walks over, pressing a soft kiss to my lips as he holds the dirty air filter out of the way. “Tomorrow’s the last day of the month. Decided to get a jump start on my monthly tasks.”

I laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

He shrugs as he sets the dirty filter next to some others that he’ll presumably take outside. “Already paid the bills, dusted cobwebs off the patio, and checked the batteries in the smoke detectors. If you want anything from the grocery store, write it down so I can finalize the order. I usually order on Sunday for Monday delivery since my housekeeper, Carla, is here on Mondays and can put it away. It’s helpful when I’m out of town. But we can put in a special order if you need anything.”

“Who are you?”

He chuckles. “Your husband.”

“I think I like it.”

“Fuckin’ better,” he says, and he reaches over to haul me into him. He presses his lips more firmly to mine, and…wow. Just wow.

He’s taking care of his home. He’s taking care of me. It’s sweet, actually.

“Are you handy around the house?” I ask, setting my bag on the kitchen counter.

He eyes it for a beat, like he doesn’t want it there, but I don’t move it. “I try to be,” he says. “When my dad died, I had to kind of step up and take care of things for my mom. If I don’t know how to do it, I YouTube it. Like that bar in the front room by the pool table along the stairs?”

I nod, noting his reference.

“I built that.”

I gasp a little, and I lean back to let the bar come into view. “You built that?”

He nods. “It was a big, blank canvas under the stairs, and I thought…how cool would it be to walk into someone’s house for a get-together and have the bar be the first thing you see?”

“Spoken like a man who wants to start his own tequila brand.”

He chuckles. “Hey, do you want to order in and have a date night at home?”

An ache presses between my legs. Does he mean what I think he means? “I’d love that.” We’ve both been so busy that it feels like we’ve barely spent any time just hanging out together.

We order in protein bowls and chat about home improvement tasks he wants to accomplish before the season starts up again with training camp in September, and the more time we spend together, the more time I want to spend with him.

After dinner, we walk over toward the couch to put on a movie, but we don’t get that far. Instead, he pulls me into his arms.