Page 36 of Gin and Bear It

“I guess.”

“And you made a plan, right?” He does a set of squats.

I sigh and nod.

Jeremiah always has a plan. When we were in high school, he knew he wanted to go to Crescent Hill University, and he wanted to be an electrical engineer. He graduated summa cum laude and went to work for an energy start-up, and as soon as he realized it was going to suck out his life force, he made a plan to get all the money he could and pivot to teaching. Now he has a job he finds fulfilling and a nice little house.

He makes it look effortless. He can make plans that cover every contingency and actually succeed.

Historically, planning well hasn’t been my strongest suit.

I roll onto my side, facing Garth. He stretches and yawns before walking away, not even giving me something cute to look at anymore.

“Yeah, but what if she contests the will and wins?” I laugh without humor to it. “That would figure. I’d be in an even worse spot than before.”

“Then you just have to prove that it’s real.” He stands over me, extending his hand down. I put my hand in his and he pulls me to my feet.

“I know.” I tug my sweatshirt back on over my outfit.

“I mean, you tolerate Ash enough to fake marry him. Just get to know him,” he says. “Not every couple is over the top in love. I really don’t think Danika could have hard evidence that you two aren’t in love, because it’s on your phones. Or it’s not there at all since you guys spoke in person.”

I rest my hands on the back of my neck and stretch my chest muscles. He’s right. Danika isn’t so cunning that she’d get all the evidence she needs. The knot in my chest doesn’t loosen even as I continue to stretch. My anxiety is burrowed in deep.

“Okay, but tell my lizard brain that,” I say.

“If I can’t convince your lizard brain, I can just tell you good luck.” He shrugs and grabs his water bottle.

“Thanks.” I sigh and grab mine, too. “I need it. There’s so much stuff to do at the hotel, too.”

“I know you can handle that.” He says it casually, which bolsters my hope. Maybe it’ll be okay.

The post-workout endorphins linger with me in the short drive back to my apartment, but I immediately lose them when I hear Ash talking through the door. I take a second to compose myself before I unlock it.

“Yeah, it’s bullshit,” Ash says into the phone, running his hand over his head. “I know…I fucking…I know. I’ll send the email.”

He turns to look at me and his eyes widen, his gaze trailing up and down my body. My body betrays me, once again, and my nipples tighten. Even in his agitated state, he’s hot. It’s the fucking robe—and his bare chest under it, of course, but a lot of it is the robe for some damn reason. He looks good in red and seems to know it, too.

His frown returns and he says bye to whoever is on the line.

“Everything okay?” I ask, more out of reflex than anything else.

“It’s fine,” he says in a way that tells me it’s not. I have just enough of a grip on my self-control to not prod him about it. This marriage has just begun and we’re on a weird tightrope.

“Do you want coffee?” I ask.

“Sure.”

I start putting together a pot, upping the amount I usually make. I’ve done it thousands of times, but I’ve never felt so watched.

I glance over my shoulder at Ash. He’s still leaning against the counter, frowning at his phone. Just taking up space.

“You’re sure you’re fine?” I ask again.

“Just…a lot of shit. And I’m starting at the office today,” he murmurs. “Didn’t sleep well.”

“The couch isn’t that bad, is it?” Because he’s staying there. Maybe I could get a blow-up mattress. Although where would I put it…

“No, my sleep just sucks when I’m stressed. Which I guess is a lot.” His eyes skim over me again. “You went to the gym? This early?”