Her brows knit together. “I thought the Marshalls owned it?”
I shake my head. “Joint ownership. Between me and my wife. She’s the reason the land looks so good today.”
Her lips part slightly before she nods, her smile dimming just a fraction. “Oh...oh.You’re Regan’s husband. The groom for tonight’s wedding.”
“That I am.”
I can see her wrestling with the unspoken question—So, is this really a fake marriage? And if so, why are you bringing up her your fake wife?
Yeah. It was fake.
That doesn’t mean I’m gonna disrespect her or this day. And it sure as hell doesn’t mean I’m not starting to think a real marriage with her might actually be something I want.
“Hey, my friend Lydia’s over there,” I say, nodding toward Regan’s friend I met yesterday with bright blonde hair and a flowy, floral skirt who’s reviewing a clipboard. A big ‘M’ sticker is pasted across her chest as she chatters eagerly to an older couple. “She’ll answer any questions you have.”
Rachel takes the hint, offering a small wave before heading off. I lean back against the fence, my gaze moving right back to Regan like it never left.
She’s still oblivious to my stare, but then, as if she feels me watching her, her eyes finally drag over to me. A small smile tugs at her lips, and just like that, she’s walking my way, another woman trailing behind her.
“Hi Hayes, this is the photographer we hired for the event tonight,” she says, stopping in front of me. “I promise it’s not going to be a wholething—just a few shots of you getting ready in the cottage, and me too, so we can display them on the website to draw attention. It’ll help showcase the property. We can doa couple of photos in the barn and by the pond so out-of-town couples can see the layout. But if you’re not into it, or feel like it’s too much, that’s okay and we totally don’t have to—”
I step forward and grip her hips, cutting off her sentence and pulling her close until she’s pressed softly against my chest, chin tilted up to look at me.
I want to kiss her. Right here. In front of everyone. But I don’t. Her family’s here. People are watching and we still need to talk about what happened last night. Really talk about what all this means because I’m starting to think I want more. And yeah, what’s more than marriage? I guess to start with, to date her, properly. But I need to tell her what I’m wrestling with in my head so that she knows I might be bad at this first, but dammit I’ll try for her.
“Nah, I’d love that,” I respond to her.
Regan’s face lights up, her smile instant and effortless, like she hadn’t been sure what my answer would be but really wanted to hear this one.
“So, the tour will go for another two hours, then meet in the groom’s suite,” she says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “My brothers will be in there too for the photos—they’ve got suits and everything so you all will match. Then I’ll be in the bridal suite. We’ll see each other down by the pond after.”
I pull her tighter against me, wrapping my arms around her waist and press a slow, lingering kiss to the top of her head. She smells so good this morning. “Yeah, that sounds fine.”
She hesitates as she pulls back, her eyes scanning my face, searching for something. Maybe she thinks I’m going to back out. Worry flickers in her gaze, her bottom lip catching between her teeth like she wants to ask, and all I can think about is takingit for myself, biting down, soothing it like I did last night. She’s nervous. She thinks I might run. I’d never do that to her.
I shake my head, voice low. “You ain’t gotta worry about me. I’m in this for you. We’re doing this tonight.”
Her expression softens, and for a second, I can see her believing me.
“I know,” she murmurs, but there’s still something in her eyes that’s careful. “You just… you look happy this morning. Lighter, somehow. I thought today would be worse for you.”
I huff out a quiet laugh, shaking my head before kissing her again, just her forehead, because anything more? I know I wouldn’t be able to stop and then people would be asking questions both of us need to discuss with each other first.
“You make it easy, Regan.”
She nods as if she’s digesting those words, trying to figure out what I mean by that and I let her go.
“See you soon, darling.”
Chapter 28: Hayes
Two hours later, I’m in the groom’s suite in one of the cottages, buttoning up my shirt and slipping on my suit jacket while the photographer moves around the room, getting shots of us in various stages of getting ready for the main event. Regan’s brothers are here, along with my younger brother, Seth, who just got into town on a rare break from the ranch.
Even with the tight timeline, Regan really pulled the cottages together. Gold finishes, a plush green velvet rug in the center of the room, and windows that look freshly cleaned. Even the tall, gold-framed mirror in the corner has been polished to a shine. The chandelier overhead catches the soft afternoon light, and for the first time, I get it—the appeal of getting married here. The style inside, paired with the beauty of the Manor just outside, makes this place feel like nothing else in Whitewood Creek.
“I never thought you’d be the first to get married,” Seth says, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.
I snort. “I’m ten years older than you.”
