“We’d tell my family the truth of the situation. They’ll come around to it, or they won’t. I don’t ask for their approval to live my life.”
I know exactly what that feels like. I’ve been living it since I was eighteen. But from what Slade has told me, he loves his family and they love him. And yet he’s willing to go out on a limb and do this crazy thing whether they approve of it or not.
He’s not afraid to be his own man.
That’s rare in the world I grew up in. The boys I grew up around, all those prep school boys with their father’s and grandfather’s name, they needed their family’s approval the way they needed oxygen. They would rather suffocate their individuality than be cast out from the herd.
I always thought they were pathetic. Men who grew uphaving everything handed to them on a silver platter and were still terrified of their daddies.
Slade’s a whole different breed. Rugged and self-possessed and completely unbothered by what anyone thinks of him.
The men I grew up around were house cats. Slade is something altogether wilder.
I’d be lying if I said that didn’t thrill me.
“What about logistics?” I say. “Living arrangements, all of that?”
“You’d move in,” he says. “Guest room’s yours. So’s the rest of the house. You’re designing it anyway.”
“You want me to move in with you.”
“A husband and wife usually live together.”
Those words send another thrill through me. My cheeks heat. “And so we wouldn’t… I mean, this is on paper, so…”
I’m fumbling over my words hopelessly here. I need to just come out and say it.
I blurt, “No sex?”
He goes very still. A muscle works in his jaw. His eyes stay on the horizon. “No. Of course not. I’m not trying to… exploit the situation.” He swallows. “Besides, it’s best not to complicate this, don’t you think?”
It’s honestly the answer I was expecting, even if it wasn’t the one I was hoping for. Not that I wanted him to demand sex in exchange for something. But if he’d left the door open to the possibility of something between us, I wouldn’t mind one bit.
But then again, to what end?
I’m not looking to get my heart broken. Especially not by someone who could probably shatter it as thoroughly as Slade Rhodes could, without even meaning to. Without even knowing he was doing it.
“Sex complicates things,” I agree. “Especially for me. I’mnot good at… casual.” I look at the valley. “So it’s good. That we’re on the same page.”
“We’re just being practical here,” he adds. “You have a lot to gain. It’s not a big ask from me. And it could benefit a lot of people who could use that money when you donate it.”
I look at his profile. That incredible jaw. The dark stubble catching the last of the light. The studied way he’s keeping his eyes anywhere but on me.
He reaches over and his hand closes around the flask, and around my fingers, and holds. The leather is warm between our palms. The wind whips between us and neither of us moves.
He takes a slow pull of bourbon and extends it back and our fingers find each other again around the leather.
“Right,” I say. “Practical.”
I drop my hand.
“Speaking of practicalities, we should get a prenup,” I say. “For your sake. To protect your assets. I don’t want there to be any ambiguity about?—”
“No.”
I blink. “Slade.”
“No prenup.”
