Chapter 9 #2
“They’re a little dry and bland,” I tell him with a straight face. Oh god, he looks at me like I’ve kicked a puppy, and I work so hard to keep it together. It takes a second for him to realize I’m messing with him, and then he scowls with mock outrage.
“Alright, that’s it. This friendship is over, get out,” he says pointing toward the door with amusement in his eyes. I finally lose it laughing.
“It can’t be over, who else will make me delicious margaritas and let me whine about my life,” I pout.
“Admit you love the cookies, and all will be forgiven,” he says, crossing his arms with a smirk.
I stubbornly shake my head.
He pinches my side.
“Admit it,” he insists with a laugh, and then starts to tickle me. I am so incredibly ticklish on my sides that I shriek like a banshee. It amazes me every time that I don’t mind him touching me and playing around like this. The vulnerability and honestly he’s shown me make me feel safe.
“Ok, ok, they’re the best cookies I’ve ever had in my life!” The words come out in a howl, and I’m damn near wheezing from laughing so hard.
“Good,” he says, smiling triumphantly down at me.
The tickling stops, but he’s still holding my sides.
The moment stretches into something taut, the energy crackling between us a living thing that I can almost see.
His pupils dilate enough to almost completely black out the warm brown as he stares at my lips, and I start to feel a throb in my core.
Nope.
Not happening.
I am not kissing the man who has become a good friend, and is marrying me simply to put me on his healthcare.
He’s made it clear that he does not want to catch feelings or get things muddied, and I don’t want that either.
Protecting myself at all costs has been my mantra for my entire life, and that is not going to stop now.
I break the tension by swatting at his chest lightly.
“Let’s finish these mythical level cookies, and then why don’t you show me the rest of the house,” I say.
His eyes clear, and he nods jerkily as he backs away a little, releasing my sides.
Daisy chooses to fly in at that moment, alighting onto Gage’s arm.
He gives her some head scratches while he finishes his cookie, and she hilariously tries to steal some.
We finish the cookies, and Gage motions for me to follow him with a small smile.
He shows me his home office off of the breakfast room.
It’s sparse, but nicely furnished with tons of light flooding in to warm the space.
There are miscellaneous papers and files stacked neatly next to the sleek silver laptop on the dark wood desk, a perch sits in one corner with some toys, and a squashy microfiber brown chair sits in the other corner among the bookshelves.
Daisy flits from Gage’s arm to the perch and starts playing with the bell toy there. Hermes must hear it and comes flying in.
“Daisy bell,” he says, watching her from where he landed on the floor. Little smarty wants to be part of everything.
“Alright, you two behave while I show Celeste the rest of the house,” Gage says.
“Beautiful Celeste,” is the reply from Hermes, and I laugh in surprise.
“I believe your bird is flirting with me,” I tease.
“He’s always had more game than he knows what to do with,” Gage replies dryly.
We head upstairs where he shows me the room he made into a home gym that he tells me I obviously can use whenever I want if I move in.
There’s a pristine hall bath which will be mine to use, and then there’s the guest room.
It’s comfortable looking and a good size, with a white bed frame, matching side tables on either side, plush looking blue bedding, a matching dresser, and a good sized closet.
Soft blue walls, white curtains on the windows, and white carpeting make it feel airy and almost beachy.
Gage rubs his neck again in that nervous way.
“If you don’t like it, you can do whatever you want to personalize it and make yourself feel at home. New paint job, new bedding, feel free to make any changes,” he says.
“It’s beautiful, I love it,” I tell him. He looks pleased to have pleased me, and it makes my chest pinch.
“I’m glad,” he says. “We should, ah, maybe head back downstairs and talk through how we want this whole thing to play out? If my birds and/or my house haven’t scared you off wanting to do it, that is.”
“Please, I’m only marrying you for the birds now, forget the endometriosis treatment or you getting your bar,” I quip to keep things light. He tosses a grin over his shoulder as he leads the way back downstairs.
“They’re easily the best reason to marry me, to be honest, so I respect that,” he says with a laugh.
They’re not the best reason, my traitorous intrusive thoughts pipe in.
He’s sweet, funny, and way too charming.
Well, those thoughts need to shut the hell up.
That is not what this marriage is going to be about.
Gage probably thinks I’m a complete mess.
At least this time, I know it’s going to end and that he’ll leave, unlike everyone else who has abandoned me or shoved me off onto someone else.
“I might fight you for joint custody whenever we decide to end this,” I joke. We sit down in the living room and he grows serious.
“Celeste, we’re friends no matter what. I hope you’ll still chill with me here and see them sometimes, and visit me at the bar. Maybe we get that clarified first and foremost. However long we stay married, whatever happens, I hope we’ll stay friends.”
God, he’s so earnest and sincere as he says it.
My throat tightens, emotions warring in me.
I’m elated he still wants to be friends when this is all over, scared to death that this fake marriage will go badly, and those stupid intrusive thoughts making me feel sad that he and I can never be more. I swallow hard.
“I want that too. I guess we should talk more about the details now? Most importantly, when and how are we doing this?”