Page 53

He just laughs.

“Heading up to watch the sunrise?” he asks with a yawn.

“Yeah,” I tell him, and he loosens his grip. I scoot to sit at the edge of the bed, swinging my legs over.

I almost invite him to join me, but I need a moment alone to process everything that’s happened. Being together at the hotel was one thing, but having him in my bed blurs the lines of our pretend relationship.

I must keep things professional, but it’s hard when he’s here, tangled in my sheets. I turn to face him, keeping my gaze locked on his to avoid giving him the wrong idea.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he interrupts, sitting up against the headboard, flipping on the small brass lamp next to the bed.

“Just remembering that I never finished making my grocery list, and if I have coffee, it’s going to be an emergency stash in the freezer. I’II make us some after the sunrise if you wanna go back to bed.”

“Yeah, I think I will pass on sleeping at this point,” he admits with a yawn. “How about you go up and do your thing, and I’ll check my email because it’s an hour ahead in New York.”

He picks up his phone. “I’m gonna jump in the shower real quick and then I’ll make us some coffee.”

“Mi casa, su casa,” I tell him, anxious to get upstairs and have a minute.

“About that.” His comment stops me, and I lean against the doorframe of my bedroom. “Now would probably be a good time to talk about…”

Beau starts running his hand through his hair, the way I figured out he does when he’s nervous.

“Just spit it out.” It can’t be worse than anything we’ve had to deal with so far.

“A prenup.”

Okay, I take that back. And my stomach sinks.

“I’m not after your money,” I blurt out in response.

“I don’t think that at all!” He jumps up from the bed and walks toward me. I try not to notice the way his black boxer briefs hug his hips because I’m supposed to be angry.

“Then why bring it up at all?” I’m not a complete moron. I know why people have them, but I don’t want anything of his… well, maybe something.

Focus!

“It’s to protect both of us.” He grabs the doorframe with both hands, leaning into me. “Not just me. It protects you too.”

“What are you gonna take from me, Beau?” Besides my heart… The thought crosses my mind because the more time I spend with him, the more I realize this doesn’t feel nearly as fake as it did when we made this plan a week ago.

“Nothing. I would never do that.”

“You’re damn right you wouldn’t because I have nothing, besides the business that’s just getting off the ground. And my family farm? Well, thanks to cancer, student loans, and me needing start-up for Simply Southern Weddings—the bank owns that. I have $213.85 in my bank account and $1,000 stashed away in savings for an emergency. My Marc Jacobs tote is probably the most expensive thing that I own, and it was a gift from a bride. I’m supposed to believe that a prenup is to protect me.” I shoulder past him to grab my stuff.

“Lucy, please.” He drops his hands and steps back like I slapped him. “I didn’t mean to suggest—”

“Well, you did, and I can’t have this conversation until after I’ve had coffee, so why don’t you do us both a favor and go make some,” I snap, digging in my tote bag for my notebook and then snagging a cold-water bottle from the fridge on my way up to the rooftop.

I stomp up the wooden stairs to the top, where a patio door opens to a tar-covered roof. The morning heats envelops me the minute I step into my personal little sanctuary.

It’s not much. It’s definitely not the Wisteria. But it’s mine. Or at least it will be someday when I can afford to change my contract from leasing to owning.

I’m pretty proud of my little secondhand table and chairs and the fact that I’ve only killed half the plants up here. It’s a joint effort between me, the sun, and the fact that I’m always forgetting to bring water up with me.

As I settle in my favorite chair, knees pulled to my chest, I wait for the sun to rise with a lump in my throat. A prenup. I already know there will be NDAs. It’s funny, when I envisioned planning my wedding, I thought the only thing I would be signing was a marriage license.

I know why we have to have one. I understand we’re from two different worlds. He’s champagne and caviar. I’m sweet tea and cornbread. But even with him standing close enough to touch me… I have never felt further away.