Chapter 6
Five hundred thousand paid in advance once the contract is signed, with a further five hundred thousand paid once the contract is complete twelve months after the marriage certificate is supplied. A million dollars and a way out of the crippling debt I am facing.
I won’t lose the bar.
I won’t lose the studio, the truck or the stupid glasses that have my logo on that I am weirdly attached to.
Why am I even considering this?
The whole marrying to divorce isn’t bothering me, but it’s not that clean cut either.
There are so many variables, so many things that could go wrong.
There’s nothing stopping him coming after the bar or me going after part of the ranch.
These are things that need to be thought about and discussed at length.
Marriages of convenience happen all the time, all over the world, but they take longer than a day or so to organize and plan.
This isn’t simple.
Would it fix this shit show right now? Yes. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have to deal with worse circumstances later down the line, and I don’t have the power or resources the Knight family has.
Positioning my bikini in place, I slip a baggy pair of trousers over the top and pair it with an oversized sweater and then grab my bag before heading downstairs. It was another busy night for the bar last night, and the mess remains, the floor sticky as I walk over it to head outside to my truck.
The chill in the air has goosebumps rising on my skin, and I know the water in the pool this morning is going to be even colder than usual.
I’ve been thinking about Roman’s proposition since he left here yesterday.
It makes no sense for the man to come to me, of all people.
Plenty of women would throw themselves at the opportunity to be married to someone like Roman.
The status alone would be enough of an allure without the money.
I should have thrown that contract in the trash immediately.
Instead, it’s still on my counter, half-read and taunting me.
I drive across town and turn onto the dirt road that’ll lead me to Knight Falls Ranch, the hills and trees stretching out for miles on either side of the road while the tips of the mountains disappear into the dense cloud cover stifling the sun.
I pass the entrance to the ranch and follow the road around until I can pull up in the layby just before the entrance to the other ranch along this stretch.
It’s not nearly as big and looks far more run down than the Knights.
I’ve never met who owns it, they keep to themselves as far as I am aware.
Snatching my bag from the bed of the truck, I find the spot I climbed through yesterday, a gap where the fence meets a huge, towering rock face that leaves the ground uneven and sharp.
I already slipped on it once, and I have a bruise on my ass to show for it, so I go even more carefully today, taking short steps as I navigate down the rocky slope until I’m finally on dirt.
The air is wet here today, fresh and earthy, and branches snap under my weight as I make my way to the edge of the falls, placing my bag down so I can undress for my daily swim.
The cold bites at my bare skin now I’m fully exposed to it, a shiver running through me, but once I’m in the water and get moving, I’ll warm up.
I swim most of the year — well, at least until the ice comes in — but the moment it’s thawed, I’m right here, cursing and hissing as the cold water nips at my skin.
“That water is freezing,” Roman’s voice startles the life out of me, and I jump about three feet into the air. The problem? My foot catches on a rock beneath the water, and I lose my balance, toppling over into the pool.
I make a splash when I hit the water, the shock enough to stall the air in my lungs.
“Fuck,” I hear him hiss, and then hands are on me, tugging me back out.
I didn’t even hear him come up behind me. Had he been waiting!?
I shake his hands off and glare at him. “What the hell, Roman!?”
He rubs the back of his neck, standing ankle-deep in the water, which leaves his boots and jeans soaked. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“Were you waiting for me!?”
He holds his hands up. “I just wanted to ask if you’d thought about it. Or read the contract?”
I wrap my arms around myself, the cold sinking down to my bones. “No.” I lie.
He steps out of the shallow water and reaches down for my towel, passing it to me while keeping his whiskey-colored eyes on mine. “Can we talk?”
“I’m a little occupied right now, and then I’m at the bar.” I wrap the towel around myself.
“You can’t take a day off?” He cocks his head.
“I don’t have that kind of luxury.” I snap back, but for some reason, guilt settles into my gut and my shoulders sag. “Fine. I can take this afternoon off.”
A half-smile pulls up one side of his mouth. “Meet me at the ranch.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose; this is such a bad idea. The worst idea. I’ve been reckless and impulsive before, but this? This has to take the cake. “When?”
“Twelve Thirty.”
“Fine,” I agree, shaking my head. I throw the towel back onto my bag and turn to the water, but I don’t hear Roman walking away. “You waiting for a show?”
His eyes roll down me as he lifts his hand to run his middle finger across his bottom lip, hiding a smirk.
He still makes no move to leave, and I am going to run out of time if I don’t get going now.
He’s not going to ruin the one hour of peace I give myself, so I push myself into the pool, ignoring the way my muscles tighten and the cold steals my breath.
I get control of myself and once I’m deep enough, I lift my feet off the ground and push myself forward, cutting through the water until I’m in my usual spot with the falls at my back and tread water, looking to where he leans on a tree.
He watches for the entire hour while I swim.
I slowly drive my truck up the long road that winds its way up to the ranch, admiring the landscape.
Horses graze in the fields to the left, and thousands of cattle are on the right, with barns and stables where several people are working.
With the mountains as the backdrop, I can see how easy it would be to fall in love with this place.
Sunstone Ridge has been my home my entire life.
I’ve always seen the charm, how our tiny little town seemed to be stuck in time in the best way, but this place…
It’s magic. Something that had looked unreachable and yet had been on my doorstep the entire time.
I’ve only seen a fraction of this place, and I had thought the falls would be the most stunning part, but I’m not so sure that’s true.
It takes almost five minutes to get to the very end of the drive.
The farmhouse stands proud in front of the mountains, a mix of wood and natural stone, with vast windows to let in as much light as possible.
A huge brand-new Ford Ranger is parked in front of the house, its glossy black paint reflecting the sun that’s only just broken free of the clouds.
I’d called in a favor with Ashley to cover the bar for this afternoon, but I should be back within the hour.
I’m here only to give him my final answer. No.
Absolutely not.
It’s insane I even considered it in the first place.
I reach for the door handle but pause. I had another red-stamped letter this morning, and I’m running out of time. What if doing this is the answer?
Movement on the porch that wraps around the farmhouse draws my attention, and I look up to find Roman standing there, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up showing tan skin and ropes of veins protruding from his arms. The first few buttons are left open at the neck, showing his collarbones and just a small smattering of dark hair on his chest. His hat shields his eyes, but I can feel them on me through the windshield.
He lifts his hand and turns his wrist to look down at his watch. I’m fifteen minutes late, but I figured it didn’t matter.
Swallowing down all those twisty feelings coiling up tight in my gut, I get out of the car, the hinges on my old truck squeaking. My dad got me this truck, and while it is literally falling apart, being held together with duct tape and hope, I can’t part with it. It’s the only thing I have left.
Gravel crunches under my feet as I make my way toward the porch.
“You’re late.”
“We’re talking, not attending court. You’ll live.”
He makes some kind of growling noise before he reaches for the door handle and offers me inside.
I pass him, his scent immediately coming over me as I step inside.
This place is rustic charm through and through, with its high ceilings and natural stone walls that seem to pull from the landscape beyond the windows.
A fireplace dominates one wall, the hearth made from a stone that matches the mountains, and tan couches that look to be a leather, suede mix sit in front of it.
Framed photos of the ranch through the years are mounted on the hallway walls, and the hardwood floor looks original, still with scrapes and scratches from the many years this place has been here.
Roman shows me through to what I assume is his office, matching what I saw of the house except this has a set of double glass doors that offers a wide view of the ranch and the mountains with a smaller fireplace that doesn’t look like it’s been used at all.
It’s luxury, down to the hide rug on the floor and the shined leather chairs both in front and behind the desk.
It doesn’t squeak once as I lower into it and run my hand over the soft leather.
I keep my eyes on Roman as he takes his place behind the desk and meets my gaze. “Drink?” He glances at the decanter of whiskey and the two glasses sitting next to it.
“Only if you’ll make me a sours.” I quirk a brow, expecting it to be a challenge for him. There’s no way this cowboy knows how to make a real whiskey sour.
He chuckles, “Wait here.”
Like I have anywhere else to go. I watch him leave, plucking up the decanter on the way out but he leaves the door ajar, and I can see his tall, wide body walking into the kitchen.
He places the bottle down on the oak wood kitchen island and then slips out of view.
A moment later, I hear cupboard doors opening and closing, and he places items down with the whiskey.
Well damn, he’s actually going to make me a cocktail.
I watch in fascination as he puts the whiskey, lemon juice and syrup into the shaker before he cracks an egg and separates the yolk, leaving only the white, which he tips in last before sealing the shaker.
He shakes it and then disappears briefly before he picks it up and comes back with it and a small jar of cherries.
My shock must be evident on my face because he smirks and stops at the desk to grab the glasses to pour the cocktail into both of them.
He finishes it off by skewering a cherry onto a metal cocktail stick with a cattle skull on the end.
With his own drink in hand, he lowers into the chair again and settles his eyes on me, but I’m still staring at the damn cocktail he made me.
“Is there a problem, sweetheart?” I can hear his amusement making his usually rough tone light.
I shake my head to clear it and pick up the drink, taking a sip but I practically melt into the leather beneath me as the flavors hit my tongue. It’s so fucking good.
“Why do you need to get married?” I get right to the point.
“This ranch belonged to my grandfather; it was always supposed to come to me after he passed.”
I nod, watching him lift his glass to his lips to take a sip. His throat works to swallow it, but he doesn’t bring his eyes back to me, instead, he looks beyond, to the doors that look out onto the ranch.
“I’ve worked my entire life for Knight Falls, but my grandfather decided to put a clause in his will that means I only get this place if I get married, and stay married for a minimum of twelve months.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what he was thinking or why he put that in, but it’s tied my hands, and I don’t have time to fight it.”
“So, who gets it if you don’t marry?”
“Silas, but he doesn’t want it. I mean, he’ll take it if he must, but he has enough to worry about. You won’t just be helping me out; you’ll be helping him too.”
“I just,” I look down into the cocktail, “It’s a really bad idea.”
“Trust me,” He scoffs, “I know.”
“There are a few things that aren’t clear in the contract.” I sigh.
“Thought you didn’t read it,” He quirks a brow in challenge, which I meet with a scowl.
“What happens when we divorce?” I grind out, “What’s stopping me from taking everything from you?”
“Would you?” He tilts his head.
“Only if you came after me,” I admit, “You have more to lose than I do.”
“I’ll have it added to the contract that neither of us will attempt anything when that time comes. Whatever you have is yours and yours alone.”
“Do we have to live together?”
He winces. “Yes, and we need to be seen as any other married couple.”
My head snaps back. “I’m not kissing you.”
He wets his lips and grins. “Why? You afraid you might like it?”
“Absolutely not,” I retort quickly. “How are we even meant to sell a real marriage when we literally only met a couple of days ago?”
“Simple — we had been dating in secret to save small-town gossip but now we’re ready to go public.”
I take a sip of my cocktail, letting the flavors wash over my tongue again.
Cocktail making is one of my favorite parts of owning a bar, the flavors, the colors, the odd ingredients that tie it all together.
I love watching people’s faces change when they take that initial sip, how their eyes brighten.
It brings me an odd sense of pride knowing I did that.
He leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk as he catches and holds my eyes. “I picked you for a reason, Niamh. I don’t want a marriage, I don’t want a wife, and I think you feel the same way. We both need help, we both win here, like I said.”
“And there’s no catch?” I press, “To the money I need now?”
“None.” He shakes his head.
“I want permission to access the falls whenever I want, even after this is done.”
A light chuckle rumbles out of him. “You can have it.”
“I’ll have my own room?”
“Yes,” He confirms, “And if you want to spend all your time in it when you’re here, you can. Or you can spend time out with the horses or read in the living room. For the twelve months, this will be your home, and you are free to do as you please.”
I should reject this whole thing, leave and run like hellhounds are on my heels. This is utterly ridiculous. Reckless. Insane.
But it isn’t refusal that leaves my lips, and I don’t high tail it out of there either.
“Okay,” I say on a breath, “I’ll do it.”