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She needed to call their chef and have Callie give her the meal plan she already had detailed out from her blue binder. She huffed out a laugh. All those times Callie had teased her and now look how it all would turn out. Maybe it was a good thing she had all her lists and details worked out, after all.
More than disheveled and only this side of exhausted by sheer will, Juniper slung her feet over the side of the bed. What would everyone say when she told them it was a fixed marriage? Would they understand? She hated to disappoint them but the good she was doing by agreeing couldn’t be ignored either. Her family had to see that.
Across from the room sat an old bureau with elegantly carved claw feet and a beautifully framed mirror stacked on top that offered a very honest view of what five hours of sleep could do to a person.
“Geeze. Zombies have more color.”
Juniper groaned and pulled at the dark circles under her eyes and the sprigs of hair pulled from a sloppy braid.
She and Marshall had worked through their second solid night until neither of them could stand another stack of paper or staples. Still grainy and sore, she rubbed at her eyes and let the room come back into focus before attempting to stand.
While they ate fried rice and sweet and sour chicken Marshall explained the history of BlackCo and the company they were merging with. Masterson Oil, she recalled. With the lack of funding and higher rolling companies on the rise, they wanted out while their company still had value. Smart move and even smarter of Marshall to see the opportunity.
She’d also learned about Priscilla Masterson by way of Stella when she joined them for dinner.
They hadn’t made the date he offered of cooking her dinner, but she couldn’t complain about takeout Chinese food and good company.
Too tired to argue, she accepted Marshall’s invitation to stay with him.
Now, morning light barely peeked through the slit in the curtains. She tossed the blankets and sheets to the side and beat her best time at managing a shower and squaring away her things before making her way downstairs. Texan summers were no joke. If the day ahead matched the previous ones it would be sweltering before nine so she opted for a strappy dress with sunflowers and white sandals.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” Marshall smiled as she rounded the corner, following the smell of food.
“Morning to you, too. You’re up early.” He pulled out a stool at the high counter, planted a kiss on her all before turning back to the food on the stove.
“Sporadic naps are more my style. I hope you like scrambled eggs and bacon this time.”
She snatched a piece off his plate and bit into the crunchy goodness. “I don’t trust anybody who doesn’t.”
That earned her a husky laugh. “Good answer.” She watched him whip up a fresh batch of scrambled eggs like a pro from her favorite cooking show. Okay, not entirely true. Yes, she had a favorite cooking show but none of that came to mind at the moment. Right now, she watched the way he filled out a pair of Wranglers.
Huh. Come to think of it, she'd never seen him out of a suit.
She peered over the island and cracked a grin. Yep. Black boots. She didn’t know why she thought he’d have on anything else. You can take a cowboy out of the fields and all that, she supposed. He coupled the dark jeans with an equally dark dress shirt neatly tucked in and a deep blue tie with tiny golden stripes that matched the color of her sunflowers.
Her phone rang, and she swooped it off the counter where she’d placed it seconds ago.
“Need to take that?”
She saw Jon’s, name pop up on the screen. He’d received her message about the wedding venue and probably wanted to know why she needed his place.
An hour conversation would ensue. The man loved details.
She could answer or push it off and talk to him later after breakfast. The quiet time and the shared meal didn’t happen nearly enough and definitely not with a man like Marshall. An hour or so wouldn’t make a difference.
“Nah. It’s not important right now.”
Marshall served her a plate then refilled his own and joined her at the counter.
She scooped up a mouthful and let out a low moan of appreciation.
“That good, huh?”
She nodded forgoing words as she crunched another piece of bacon and chased it down with some fresh orange juice. Not the bottled stuff either.
“Wow. You really know how to do breakfast. If this keeps up I’ll be as round as the dining table.”
He leaned in, “I’ve pictured it. But not with food.”
