“Correct.” I watch Hess, wondering if he’s going to agree to this or finally tell me my scheming is insane, and he’s outta here.
“And is it, like, a secret still or…”
“We have to make it seem like we’re trying. That’s the ‘good faith’ part, plus there’s counseling.”
He swears under his breath, the curse mingled with a bit of laughter. “My mom is going to kill me.”
“I’m really sorry to drag you into all of this.”
“No, you didn’t drag me into anything. I did this too. I’m sorry I ever told Shanna about the marriage. It’s my fault the court is challenging the validity.” He scrapes his hand down his face. “So, effective immediately, meaning you’ll move in right now?”
“I can’t just move in right now. There’s packing involved. Besides, I was thinking you’d move into my place. I have a two-bedroom condo in Phoenix, close to my office. It’s brand new.”
“No.” He starts walking, leaving me chasing after him this time.
“What do you mean, no?”
“Your condo sounds great, but we’re living at my house in Queen Creek.”
“Queen Creek! That’s, like, a forty-five-minute commute to work for me.”
“It’ll be worth it.”
“No, it won’t.”
“I don’t know what to tell you. I work from home and can’t be away from my house. If this living arrangement is happening, it happens in Queen Creek.”
I stop walking, realizing I don’t have a choice. I can’t pay back the money, so I need to do this for the next six months.
“I’ll text you the address,” he says as if he read my mind. “You can move in starting tonight.”
“No, I already have plans tonight.”
It’s my monthly friend dinner at Oregano’s, where we update each other on our lives. However, tonight I’m definitelynotupdating everyone on my latest happenings.
“Fine. Tomorrow, then.” He flashes me a smile over his shoulder then disappears around the corner.
Queen Creek!
That’s rodeo central out there.
That’s when I remember Hess’sbarn,where Selena wants to have her wedding.
There’s a fleeting cowboy thought before I force it out of my head and puff out a sigh. “What did I just agree to?”
Month One
Camila
“This is only temporary,”I say to myself as I follow my Google Maps to Hess’s house. I feel like I’m out in the middle of nowhere in Queen Creek—the last stop before tumbleweeds. I’m being a little dramatic. There are lots of houses. They’re just spread apart farther than I’m used to.
My GPS tells me to turn right in one hundred feet.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I drive under the gate arch with the words Broken Spur Ranch welded into metal. “What in the John Wayne is happening here?”
I follow down a dirt road with a black metal fence on either side until it leads me to a long, curved driveway, and my jaw nearly drops.
The house isn’t just big; it’s the kind of sprawling rambler ranch you’d expect to see on the cover of a luxury homes magazine. Stone and wood details stand out, giving it both arustic charm and a polished elegance. Wide porches stretch across the front with rocking chairs lined up like they’re waiting for a family reunion. The gabled roof peaks and timber beams make the place look grand but still inviting, like it’s daring me to walk inside and see if it’s as gorgeous as it looks on the outside.
