Chapter 13
Max
“Iwant to marry you,” I said and handed Daisy the bouquet of lavender and peonies I’d made especially for her this morning and then hid on the floor behind my seat in the truck.
Courthouse or not, marriage of convenience or not, I wasn’t going to walk through those doors and swear to cherish her without showing her that first, even if it was only as friends.
Daisy balked, staring at the flowers with more surprise than when I’d dropped to one knee.
“Daze?”
“Sorry, I…” She blew out an exhale and carefully reached for them, her hand brushing mine. “Thank you for these.” As she pulled them to her, I just managed to catch my wince. Todd’s engagement ring still glinted on her finger—giant and flawless and wholly unlike the man who’d given it to her.
The words burned on the tip of my tongue to ask why she still wore it, but I swallowed them down, letting them scorch the air from my lungs.
It doesn’t matter. It couldn’t matter to me.
I lifted my hand to my neck, hooking my finger into my collar and giving it a tug. I shouldn’t have been surprised when it didn’t help the tightness in my chest.
“You didn’t have to do this,” she murmured even as she pulled the bouquet to her nose. Her appreciative moan destroyed me.
“I know I’m not Todd and that this isn’t the wedding you imagined, but I care about you, Daisy. About what you deserve. And you deserve to have flowers on your wedding day.”
She deserved more than fucking flowers. She deserved a husband in more than name, and a ring that didn’t belong to a man who never deserved her.
And that was why I’d driven up to Portland yesterday to visit a jewelry store.
It made sense—going far enough away where people didn’t know my family and the rumors wouldn’t spread back to them.
It made sense right up until I made it home with the simple, elegant gold band in my possession.
Daisy wouldn’t want my ring. She didn’t want anyone to know we were even married. It wasn’t a marriage for show but a business arrangement. A contract for benefits. And I didn’t give rings to anyone else I’d ever signed a contract with.
“Thank you, Max,” she said, but just kept staring at the flowers.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked, my throat thick. I was sure. I’d never been surer.
It took a second for her to nod and finally look at me. “Yes.”
I managed that smile I’d perfected over the years. The friendly one that hid how I’d always felt about her.
“After you,” I murmured and held open the door to the courthouse.
It was a few minutes past eight. I’d hoped by going first thing, we wouldn’t have to wait long or run into too many people who might ask questions. I wasn’t wrong.
The ceremony took twenty minutes. The clerk sat in a chair in the corner of the room as our witness.
Judge MacDonald tried to look excited as he repeated the script he’d said hundreds of times.
I didn’t realize how much I’d expected Daisy to change her mind right up until the moment she said, “I do.”
When it came to the end of the vows, and he declared I could kiss my bride, I reached for Daisy, cupped her face, and then just before my lips reached hers, I veered them to the side and kissed just next to her mouth.
Close enough to feel the swift catch of her breath like she’d just dodged a bullet.
Because I wasn’t the one she wanted. Not really.
I embraced the pain that slammed through my chest, expecting it to be my constant companion until our arrangement came to an end. It was a safety measure, the airbag that went off to save me from making a mistake that would irreversibly injure my heart.
The second I started blurring the lines of this convenient marriage was the moment I sealed my own downfall.
I couldn’t blur the lines but keep the emotional boundaries clear.
If I kissed Daisy, I wouldn’t be able to let her go.
It would be like jumping off a cliff and expecting to fly.
I wasn’t the exception to gravity. And I wasn’t the exception to falling for Daisy when her heart wasn’t ever—had never been mine.
“What now?” she asked when we climbed back into the truck, her face as white as the marriage certificate in her lap.
“We’ll stop for breakfast, and I’ll call my health insurance rep, and then we’ll do our route for the day.”
I’d thought about dividing up the deliveries to the other drivers to give us the day off, but I stopped myself.
This marriage wasn’t real, not to her, so the only thing that mattered was making good on my vow to take care of her.
In order of priority, that was feeding her, getting the ball rolling on getting her on my insurance, and then driving. Lots of driving.
“Do we have a lot of stops?” She curled deeper into the seat, her fingers playing with the fabric of her dress on her stomach.
“Yeah.” I pulled my printout from the driver’s door and passed it to her.
She scanned over the list, and her shoulders slumped. “Perfect.”
My grip on the wheel tightened, another blow of pain hitting my chest. I should be grateful for the distraction too.
“Meatball parm subs.” I set the delivery bag on the counter.
Daisy’s eyes widened eagerly and then snapped to the second bag in my hand. “What’s that?”
“Blueberry honey ice cream.” I stuffed the dessert into the freezer and then pulled two plates from the kitchen cabinet in the apartment.
When I turned back, she was staring at me cautiously.
“Harper collaborated with Cool Beans on a special batch with her honey. She asked me to swing by and pick up a pint for you.”
All true. It was also true that while we’d spent the better part of the day pretending things were the same, the reality was everything had changed.
We were married. Even if it was only a temporary arrangement, only out of convenience, the longer we avoided mentioning the elephant, the bigger it would become.
“We got married this morning, Daze. Figured a little dessert wasn’t a bad way to end the night.”
Her gaze dropped, guilt flushing her cheeks. “Yeah.” She offered a weak smile. “You’re right.”
I started to unpack the bag with the sandwiches, unwrapping each and placing them on plates. There were a dozen things I wanted to say, but I could tell there was something on her mind, and I didn’t want to be the reason she never spoke it.
“Did you tell her…tell Harper?”
I stopped. “That we got married?”
Daisy nodded.
“No.” I handed her a plate.
“Are you going to?”
“Judge MacDonald plays Canasta with Gigi and Frankie every week. They’re going to find out whether I tell them or not,” I admitted. I’d hoped it was a different judge who would be in this morning, but of course, it wasn’t.
“They should hear it from you,” she said and took a bite.
I watched her for a minute, devouring the dance of enjoyment over her features. I could survive on the sight of her, like a flower under the rays of the sun.
“Max?” Daisy’s voice made me jerk. “Is everything okay?”
Shit. “Yeah.” I shoved my sandwich into my mouth.
“You were staring at me. Is something wrong?” I felt her looking at me a little too closely. “Is there food on my face? Sauce?” She proceeded to drag her delicate pink tongue over the full curves of her lips, and desire settled straight and heavy into my dick.
“No,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Is it something I said? Do you not want—”
“It’s not anything you said or did, Daze,” I said, frustration leaking into my voice. “It’s just…you. I’m just staring at you.”
She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she stared back for a long second before averting her gaze back to her dinner. “I’m okay, Max. Really,” she finally said with a soft, weak laugh.
Of course, she assumed I was worried about her. She wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t right either. I was worried about her, but that wasn’t why I stared. I stared because I couldn’t stop myself. I stared because, from the moment I’d met her, if she was in the room, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her.
I didn’t trust myself to say anything else. Better that I didn’t veer any closer to secrets I couldn’t afford to share. The minutes filled with ravenous silence, both of us eating in a quiet orbit of all the things that were between us.
“When are you going to tell them?”
I picked up a napkin and slowly wiped my mouth.
“Your family, I mean,” she clarified when I didn’t reply quickly enough.
“Not sure yet.” Until this morning, the only thing I could think about was whether Daisy was going to say I do this morning or not.
“What if we go to dinner at your aunt’s house this week?”
My muscles stiffened. “You want to be there?”
“I thought it would be easier.” Daisy slid off the chair, intending to wash her plate, but I got to it before she could. “I don’t want you to tell them yourself. You did this because of me—for me. I should be there. I should be the one to explain.”
“They’re not going to be mad, Daze,” I tried to placate her. “They’ll understand.”
“Please, just let me do this.”
I gritted my teeth. She thought she was helping me—to be there to weather the storm.
Only she was preparing for a hurricane rather than an earthquake.
It was the wrong catastrophe, believing they’d be upset that I’d married Daisy to help her.
The real disaster was that I’d married the woman I wanted for four years, and she’d never know.
Abandoning both our plates in the sink, I went to the freezer, welcoming the blast of arctic cold to my face, hoping it could freeze my expression from revealing too much.
“Okay,” I agreed, pulling out the ice cream. “We can tell them together.”
And hopefully, Nox could keep his sarcastic mouth shut.
I popped the lid on the ice cream and turned to grab bowls. When I spun back, Daisy already had her spoon in the container, scooping out her first bite. She met my gaze. “I’m okay eating from the container if you are.”
“Sure.” I swallowed hard and replaced the bowls as she ate. “What’s the verdict?”