Page 46 of Seale the Deal

She shakes her head. I’m sorry, I just… She exhales sharply. I’m worried for the day people find out and start judging me.

I shrug. Well, it won’t be me.

It just drives me crazy! she says, hands flying wildly with the knife, causing me to step back. A sixty-year-old man can date a thirty-year-old, and nobody cares, but I can’t have a casual thing with someone ten years younger than me without having to worry it’s a scandal. It’s just a little fun.

I reach over and catch the flailing hand that’s not wielding a weapon, and the touch is enough to help calm her.

Okay, I say carefully, trying not to laugh. Now who’s being judgmental?

Her shoulders slump. Fair.

I let go of her hand and turn to the cutting board, slicing tomatoes while she quietly adds radishes to the bowl. I don’t have time for a relationship with my writing schedule. I want to enjoy this for what it is.

I get that, I say. And are you?

She looks over at me. Yeah. A grin slowly pulls at her mouth. I mean, the sex is really good. Like, alarmingly good.

I snort. Well, that settles that, then. I add the tomato I’ve cut to the salad. As someone who spent way too long pretending sex didn’t matter in a relationship, I’m not about to tell you to give up something good just because it doesn’t look conventional.

Her expression softens slightly.

I smile at her. Especially if it’s just for fun.

She nudges me gently. Thanks.

No problem.

We finish making the salad, and Remi slides it into the fridge as I lean against the counter with my wine.

Okay, Remi says, clapping her hands once. We should probably talk wedding.

At that exact moment, Ruger reappears in the kitchen and stops dead. I came back at the wrong time.

No, Remi says brightly. You came back at the perfect time.

Ruger looks suspicious.

I’ve started collecting ideas, Remi announces.

She yanks open a drawer, rummages around for a second, then slaps a spiral notebook onto the counter like she’s launching a military operation.

I blink at the colour-coded tabs. Remi, I say slowly. How did you—when did you—

Sleep is for the weak.

At least if you have a breakdown, we’ll know why, Ruger says dryly.

Remi points at him without looking up. Negativity has no place in my war room. She opens the notebook. Now, she says. We have limited time to pull off an unexpected wedding.

I flip through the pages in both admiration and horror.

Venues.

Decorations.

Guest lists.

Flowers.