I blink at the sudden change of subject. "Move in?"
"Aunt Mildred arrives in twelve days. We should get used to being around each other before she gets here. Make it look natural."
"I need to get my things from Ridge's cabin." My mind races through the logistics. "And let my clients know I'll be working remotely. But I could move in tomorrow?"
He nods. "I'll help you move your stuff."
"It's not much. Just clothes, my computer, design equipment."
"Still." He crosses his arms, all business now. "We should establish some ground rules."
"Like what?"
"Privacy. You can use the master bedroom and bathroom. I'll use the guest bath. The office downstairs is yours during the day for work. Kitchen is shared, but I usually eat breakfast early."
"How early?"
"Five."
I grimace. "Yeah, we won't be crossing paths at breakfast. I'm more of a ten AM coffee person."
"Noted." He hesitates. "And there's the physical aspect."
"The physical aspect," I repeat, enjoying how uncomfortable he looks. "You mean the kissing and hand holding and gazing lovingly into each other's eyes?"
His jaw tightens. "Yes. That. We should discuss boundaries."
"Okay. I'm comfortable with whatever sells our story. Casual touching, hand holding, the occasional kiss if necessary. Nothing tongue related." I pause. "Unless your aunt Mildred is particularly skeptical. Then I'm willing to negotiate."
His eyes widen slightly. "That won't be necessary."
"Just covering all bases." I grin at his discomfort. "Don't worry, Mountain Man. I'll be a perfectly respectable fake wife."
"I'm not worried."
"Liar." I check the time on my phone. "I should get back. I have a client call at three, and the WiFi at Ridge's cabin is spotty at best."
He walks me to the door. "I'll pick you up tomorrow morning. Around nine?"
"Make it ten. I need my beauty sleep."
"You don't," he says automatically, then looks like he wants to swallow his tongue.
I laugh. "Was that an accidental compliment, Mountain Man?"
"It was an observation." His ears are slightly pink. "Ten it is."
At the door, I impulsively stand on tiptoe and brush a kiss against his cheek, right below the scar. "There. Practice for the real thing."
He goes completely still, like a startled deer. "What was that for?"
"Just making sure we have chemistry." I step back, oddly affected by the brief contact. His skin was warm, his stubble soft against my lips. "See you tomorrow, husband."
I practically skip to my car, feeling his eyes on my back the entire way. As I start the engine, I catch sight of him still standing in the doorway, one hand touching his cheek where I kissed him.
This fake marriage might be more interesting than I expected.
On the drive back to Ridge's cabin, I let myself admit the truth. Jared Calloway isn't just intimidating. He's attractive in that rugged, reserved way that makes you want to break through his defenses. And those moments when his gruff exterior slips, revealing something vulnerable underneath?
