Page 17 of Fake Wife
“Morning,” I mutter.
I avoid Corbin completely and walk around the kitchen counter, sliding onto a wicker barstool. Once I’m seated, a small stack of papers gains my attention, the wordsLAST WILL AND TESTAMENTin bold letters across the top too obvious to ignore.
Eleanor’s will. If this isn’t a harsh reminder of why I’m here, I don’t know what would be.
“How are you?” I ask Corbin, staring at the will in front of me. “Doing okay today?”
“Good. Want some breakfast? I made plenty.”
Turn down bacon and eggs cooked by a hot, half-naked guy? Not likely.
“Sure. Thanks.”
He plates up our bacon, eggs, and toast, which quickly tells me he’s no stranger to a kitchen, especially this one.
Standing on the opposite side of the counter, he digs into his food.
I follow him, trying to ignore the strange silence that constantly surrounds us. Last night, we didn’t do a whole lot of talking. We’ll have to figure out a way to get past this, at least learn basics about each other.
As if he can read my mind, he pulls out a file folder from underneath the will and slides it in front of me.
“This is for you,” he says, flipping open the folder. “Hope you don’t think I’m an asshole, but it’s a contract I wrote up this morning. It’s not technically legally binding, more of a list of guidelines for us to agree on. If you have any questions, ask.”
He shovels a mouthful of eggs into his mouth and chews. “I’ve got some things I need to do in town today. I’ll give you time to look that over, and when I get back we can talk, work out whatever kinks you find. Sound good?”
“You’re going into town?”
“Yeah, need more food for the weekend, and I need to pick up some other shit.”
It occurs to me that ever since I walked into the kitchen, he hasn’t looked at me. Perhaps he’s avoiding me as much as I know it’s smart to keep my distance from him. But I didn’t think this weekend was about distance. We’ve got years for that.
“Can I go into town with you?”
His forkful of eggs freezes halfway to his mouth and he looks at me. Finally, I have those eyes on me and everything inside sizzles and sparks. I’m really going to have to get control of my reaction to this man before he figures out I fantasize about climbing him like a tree.
“You want to?”
“What else am I going to do here?”
After a long, awkward pause he nods once. “Yeah. You can come. It’s nothing special, though, not a whole lot to do out here.”
“And yet you love it here enough to convince a stranger to marry you so you don’t lose it.”
His jaw tightens, a muscle pops on the side of his neck. I haven’t meant to offend him, or hurt him, but if he wants me to stay here with him, get to know him, it’s not going to help anything if we’re not doing what he originally suggested—hang out, get to know each other.
“It’s Eleanor’s and my family’s home. It shouldn’t be bulldozed and turned into a mall for tourists.”
His fork slams down onto his plate, and then he throws the plate into the sink so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter. I jump at the sound, surprised by the sudden change in his emotions.
“You want to come with me, be ready in thirty minutes. I’ll meet you out front.”
He leaves the kitchen and I wait until the thumping of his footsteps on the stairs quiets before I dump the rest of my breakfast into the garbage.
My appetite has evaporated along with his playfulness.
I also don’t bother telling him that I am ready to go. A quick glance at my outfit suggests I’m not dressed appropriately for a public outing with him, but instead of changing, I do the dishes and clean the kitchen.
If Corbin Lane thinks marrying a normal woman is his best option, then I’m not going to get all dressed up for a grocery shopping trip. He can either take me as I am or find someone else to use.
