Noah
I was an asshole.
I should be ashamed of myself.
No matter the circumstance, only an asshole would weasel his way into the life of his best friend’s widow, spend every waking moment with her, and then agree to marry her.
To Emery, everything about our life together was happenstance.
But I knew better.
Sure, I’d taken a gamble when I’d overheard Chris talking about Torres Investments needing a bodyguard. But I knew the odds were in my favor, which was why I signed the contract with Blackridge. It’s also why I was not shocked when the name, Emery Torres, was at the top of my assignment.
But the thought of Emery being protected by anyone else or faking a marriage with another man… My left hand, which was currently resting on my thigh, was aching from being clenched so hard.
If my reaction to watching her flirt with those guys back in Harmony was any indication of how I was going to feel if she walked down the aisle to another man, then agreeing to marry her—no matter the reason why—was the only way I would survive.
Which was why I agreed. I knew I may come to regret this decision, but for now, saying those words lessened my stress.
I’d keep her safe and protected until she was ready to truly start dating. I had no interest in taking advantage of her. I didn’t care about her money or what she could do for me.
I was here for her. Period.
Emery blinked a few times. Then she let out her breath as she stretched out her arms on the tabletop and dipped her head like she was trying to relieve the muscles in her neck. I watched her straighten and then knock a few times on the table before she stood.
“If we’re going to do this, then we need to set up some ground rules,” she said as she made her way back into the kitchen and pulled a drawer open.
I shifted in my seat until I was sitting sideways on my chair, watching her. She pulled out a piece of paper and a pen before she bumped the drawer closed with her hip. Then she made her way back to the table and sat down.
I watched as she wrote RULES at the top and then 1. under it. She tapped her chin with her pen as she studied me. It was as if she wanted to say something, but was too shy to get the words out. I raised my eyebrows, curious what had her so nervous.
“No kissing,” she whispered as she lowered her pen to the paper and started writing.
Heat permeated my cheeks as I shifted my weight.
I was a grown man, but hearing that word leave her lips made me uncomfortable.
Not in a kissing her would be gross kind of way, but in a I was actively trying not to wonder what it would feel like to have her lips pressed against mine kind of way.
Speaking that word into the ether shone a light on the fact that I was a man and she was a woman, when, in reality, that shouldn’t matter.
Her gaze was back on me. She looked uneasy, so I forced a smile.
“Does that sound doable?” she asked.
I nodded. “Definitely.” Kissing her was off limits even if she’d put it on the to-do list.
Relief flooded her gaze. “Good.” She paused, letting her gaze lose focus before she brought it back to the paper.
“Only touch when absolutely necessary.” She spoke the words slowly as she wrote them down.
When she was finished, she glanced up at me.
“Meaning, if we go to a dinner or are out and about and there’s paparazzi, then we can touch. ”
I nodded. “Sounds reasonable.”
She froze. “But what will Timothy think…” She glanced down at the paper once more and then added, only when Timothy is not looking, to rule two. “Right?” she asked, looking up at me.
“Probably wise.”
I could tell that she was struggling with this.
I could only imagine what she was going through.
I could tell from my first night as her bodyguard that she was still struggling with Carson’s death even though he passed away more than five years ago.
You can’t put a timetable on healing, and Emery was nowhere near settled with his death.
She was hurting. And the fact that this marriage stipulation was being forced on her was ridiculous. It took all my strength not to cuss out the board members. How could they do this to her?
The tapping of her fingernails on the table drew my attention. She’d written a number three but seemed hesitant to write down the next rule.
I leaned in so I could catch her gaze. This arrangement was for her. “Whatever it is, I’m cool with it,” I said, my voice coming out deeper than I’d intended.
Emery glanced up and held my gaze. Then she brought her attention back down to the paper. “You’ll sign a prenup,” she said.
It was strange to me that she seemed so hesitant to write that down. Of course, I was going to sign a prenup. Her money was her money. Her business was her business. I would never take a penny from her.
“Absolutely,” I said with a small smile so she would know that I was not going to fight her on that rule.
She wrote a number four. “Once the three years are up, we divorce and go our separate ways.”
Silence fell between us as I watched her print out the last few words of the rule. I glanced up to see that she was staring at the paper. Then she slowly met my gaze.
I nodded. “Sounds good.” The last thing I wanted was to force this woman to be with me. I was a means to an end, and I was okay with playing that role.
She paused and then wrote a number five. “You are free to date. Just keep it a secret.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she wrote out, Noah is free to date (in secret).
I stared at her. Was she serious? Did she really think that I was going to date other women while married to her? I was a lot of things, but disloyal to my wife—even if the marriage was fake—wasn’t one of them.
I chuckled as I leaned back in my chair. “I’m good,” I said, folding my arms across my chest.
Emery glanced up at me once more. She held my gaze before she shook her head. “Well, the rule is there should you want to exercise it.”
I paused and then leaned forward and tapped the paper with my finger. “What about you?”
She’d dropped her gaze to where I’d just touched and then glanced back up at me. “Me?” she asked, like she didn’t understand what I was trying to say.
I nodded. “Yeah, you. What about the rule: Emery is free to date?”
Emery laughed. It didn’t feel directed at me, but at the idea we would need to make that a rule. “That’s not necessary.” She shook her head. “I’m never dating again.”
I studied her. Was she serious? Sure, what happened in Harmony wasn’t ideal, but Emery was a gorgeous woman.
The moment she let the world know she was available, men would be pounding down her door for a date.
The last thing I wanted was for her to feel obligated to stay with me.
If she had a chance at happiness, I wanted her to divorce me and take it.
“Write it down,” I said, drawing out each word as I tapped the paper once more.
Emery hesitated. “Noah…”
“Write it down,” I said again as I met her gaze so she would know that I was serious.
I could feel her hesitation. It was fueled by her stubbornness. But she had to know that I was just as bullheaded. I’d originally had no intention of fighting with her on these rules, but when it came to this, I was going to stand my ground.
Finally, she sighed and added a number six before writing down, Emery is free to date, and then added in parentheses, (but won’t).
This woman. Was it wrong that I enjoyed this part of her? I loved that she was a fighter. It meant when it was time for me to move on, she’d be able to handle herself.
That gave me some peace.
“I think that’s it,” Emery said as she sat back. But seconds later, she sprang forward. “Your compensation.”
I frowned as her words registered. “My what?”
She wrote down a number seven. “Your payment.” She glanced up at me. “You’re not going to spend three years with me and walk away with nothing.”
I was shaking my head before she finished her thought. “You’re not paying me,” I said, my voice low.
She waved away my words as she wrote my name next to the number. “Nonsense. My guess is they will fire you as my bodyguard once we’re married. You’ll have nothing.” She glanced up at me. “You need to be compensated.”
I reached out and plucked the pen from her grasp. “Emery, no.”
“Noah.” Her gaze shifted to the pen I was clutching before her eyes narrowed as she studied me.
We were now in a good old-fashioned standoff, each of us staring at the other as if daring them to pull out their gun first.
I raised my eyebrow. “You’re not paying me,” I repeated.
She jutted out her chin before she reached out and tapped number six. “Then I’m removing this rule.”
Ooh, this woman was good. The fact that the board thought she needed protection was a joke. She knew her mind, and she wasn’t going to waver from it.
I stared at number six before I glanced back up at her.
I didn’t want her to remove that rule. I didn’t want her to waste three years of her life tied to me when she could have used that time to find someone she truly loved.
I could handle taking money at the end of this if it ensured she had the freedom to fall in love for real.
So, I sighed and shrugged. “Fine. Write away,” I said as I handed the pen back to her.
She took the pen and began to write.
7. At the end of three years, Noah will be compensated $100K per year.
I nearly choked on my tongue. Was she serious? “Emery, no. That’s way too much.”
She held up the pointer finger of the hand that was clutching the pen. “My rule.”
I resorted to just shaking my head as she finished the sentence off with a period.
Then she pulled back as she ran her gaze over the list one more time.
When she glanced up at me, I raised my eyebrows while she jutted her chin out ever so slightly.
These were her rules, and I was going to abide by them whether I wanted to or not.
Accepting defeat, I nodded. “They look good.”