Chapter Twenty-Five
Drew
Firebrook Valley
Rules?
I leaned back in my chair and let the smallest smile come and go. It wasn’t because the situation was funny; it was because of her. Even cornered, even forced into a plan that had clearly taken her by surprise, Bella reached for structure. Procedure. Clean lines.
The restaurant hummed around us. Voices stayed low, and the warm cadence of Firebrook Valley pretended it wasn’t paying attention.
Mabel’s was full enough that no one could overhear us, yet small enough that everyone would know we’d sat together before the night was over.
It was a specific kind of small-town surveillance, less like gossip and more like the town itself holding its breath for the next chapter of the soap opera the Burkes and Hollistons were starring in this week.
Bella set her napkin aside with a precision that told me she believed control was something you could place neatly on a table and keep there by sheer will.
“You’re serious,” I said.
Her gaze stayed locked on mine—cool, sharp, and unflinching. “I’m always serious.”
She was when she needed to be, and I respected that. I held the silence for a beat, letting her feel that I wasn’t rattled and that I wasn’t going to fight her. Then I said, “Good. Tell me what you need.”
The smallest flicker crossed her face; it might have been surprise.
She’d expected a negotiation, a challenge, or perhaps a flat refusal.
She didn’t know yet that I was past testing her.
I was already on her side. I’d been there since the moment she’d looked at me across this very table and said “okay.” In my mind, we were now a team.
Bella drew in a slow breath. “First. We keep to the story.”
I nodded once. “The story.”
“No contradictions,” she continued. “Not in public. Not to our siblings. Not to our friends.”
“Agreed.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Agreed.”
I didn’t smile this time. I leaned forward slightly, lowering my voice—not for secrecy, but to make it clear that I meant it. “It stays between us. No one ever finds out. And if it affects our business reputation, I’ll take the hit for it.”
A muscle jumped in her jaw. “You don’t get to decide that.”
I held her gaze and let my silence do the work. Then, quietly, I added, “I do. Because if anyone comes for you, they come through me first.”
Bella’s eyes flashed. It wasn’t anger or softness, but something in between. She wasn’t used to being protected. “Second,” she said, her voice crisp. “No surprises. We don’t blur the lines of seeing each other except when we have to.”
I tilted my head. “You’re going to hate me.”
Her brows lifted. “Why?”
“Because I won’t follow that rule,” I said simply. “This should be more spontaneous.”
Bella stilled. A waiter passed behind her and she didn’t flinch, but her fingers tightened around the edge of the table like she was anchoring herself against a current. “Why?” she asked, her voice turning husky.
“To be believable,” I replied. I was calm, and perhaps a little too pleased with myself.
Bella took control again. “I don’t like surprises.”
“You sure about that?”
She flicked her eyes toward me, measuring my intent. “Third. If either of us is seeing someone . . .” She didn’t soften the words or add an explanation, but I heard the uncertainty under them. The scandal. The humiliation. Or maybe something deeper. “This is the time to tell the other.”
I didn’t let myself joke. I held her gaze steadily. “I’m not.” My answer came out too quickly, too honestly. Bella’s lashes fluttered. My voice dropped half a step. “You?”
“No,” she said.
A beat passed. “Good.” The word came out lower than I intended.
“Good,” she repeated. Her voice did something strange—it was steady on the surface but tight underneath, as if she didn’t like how much it meant, or how much she wanted it to mean.
I watched her long enough to make it clear I’d noticed. Her chin lifted, defiant. “Don’t make this . . .”
I leaned back slowly. “What?”
“Confusing.”
I let the silence stretch. I let her feel the truth of the moment without me naming it. Then I spoke, my voice soft and even. “Because we’re only pretending.”
Bella’s breath caught. She recovered immediately, shifting back into control like it was a weapon. “Yes.”
“Okay,” I agreed instantly.
Bella paused, studying me. “No one gets hurt.”
Only those who came after Brady and Nora . . . but sure.
A smile pulled at my mouth, but it wasn’t playful. It was a promise I wasn’t ready to speak aloud. “I’m done watching our fathers wreck everything they touch. And I’m not letting them do it to Nora and Brady.” I let that sink in before adding, “And I’m not letting them do it to you either.”
Bella’s throat moved. She lifted her coffee and took a sip, trying to reclaim the upper hand. “Four. No more sex.”
I didn’t agree, but I didn’t not agree. A loophole was a beautiful thing.
Bella’s gaze held mine a beat longer than it needed to. Then she nodded once, briskly. “Five. We set a time limit.”
“No.”
Her eyes flashed. “Excuse me?”
I didn’t move. I didn’t raise my voice. “We don’t put an expiration date on protection, Bella. We let this end naturally, when it ends.”
“It won’t end naturally because it’s not starting naturally. We need to—”
“Breathe,” I cut in softly. “And trust each other.”
“Who would have thought we could become friends?” She held my gaze, all walls up and solid, but then her expression flickered. “But we have. And I do trust you.”
Friends. I nodded in temporary acceptance. “That’s good,” I said evenly.
For now. If that was what she could call it tonight, I’d take it. I’d wait as long as it took for her to call it something else.
Bella straightened. “We can reassess weekly.”
A faint smile returned. “Weekly meetings. Are we dating or merging companies?”
“Neither,” she snapped.
Ouch. I should have been offended, but she was rule-making her way right into my heart. “Right. This is a strategic alliance.”
Bella’s mouth tightened; she’d caught the implication and clearly didn’t want to. “Exactly.”
“And there’s absolutely no sex.”
She swallowed visibly. “Because this isn’t real.”
“Of course.”
She reached for her purse, gathering herself as if she were building her armor piece by piece. I watched her—the strength, the pride, and the exhausting responsibility she carried like it was her job to hold up the world. It wasn’t. Not anymore.
Bella stood. “Now for the tough part.”
Not having sex with her wasn’t that? “And that is?” I rose more slowly.
And, God help me, I was all in. Completely ready to stand beside her in whatever scheme she came up with next.
I stepped close enough that she could feel me without us touching.
Close enough that she had to decide whether she’d move away.
She didn’t. “Now, we break the news to our fathers, and I have the perfect way to do it.”