Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
“Sorry about that,” he says, his voice low and apologetic. “I hope she wasn’t too intrusive.”
Not wanting to make things more uncomfortable, I force a small smile and take a sip of my beer. “No, she was fine.”
His brow arches slightly, clearly not buying it. “I’m sure she wasn’t. Anya can be a little... much sometimes. But I wanted to tell my siblings about our arrangement before they heard it from someone else.”
I look down at the condensation gathering on my glass, feeling oddly vulnerable in this moment. “You don’t need to explain anything to me.”
He leans back in his seat, his eyes studying my face. “When it comes to this situation, yes I do.”
We fall into a brief but noticeable silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I swirl my drink, watching the pale gold liquid ripple in the glass, wondering how we’re supposed to navigate this strange dynamic. A marriage of convenience doesn't come with a handbook, and I can already feel the awkwardness creeping in between us.
I glance at Callum again, his face relaxed but his mind clearly working. How are we going to manage this? We may have agreed this is just a business deal, but it’s becoming clearer that our lives are now intertwined in ways I didn’t fully consider. We're tied together for the next two years—whether we like it or not.
Finally, Callum breaks the silence. “You know, for what it’s worth, I think this will work out just fine. We’re both adults. We can figure this out.”
His words are meant to reassure, but I can’t help the doubt that creeps in. "I hope you're right," I murmur, taking another sip of my beer, trying to push down the uncertainty gnawing at me.
Because no matter how practical this arrangement seemed, the reality of being married to Callum is beginning to feel a lot more complicated than I ever expected.
Chapter 10
Callum
“So, when will you move in?” Violet asks, her voice calm, though there’s a hint of curiosity in her eyes as I order a Kunt Kicker IPA from Trudi behind the bar.
“I guess I can move in tonight,” I say, my voice steady, but inside, everything feels off-kilter. The idea of moving in with someone, especially someone I just married in a courthouse earlier today, feels surreal. It’s not like we’re in love or even dating. We made a deal. But still, the reality of sharing a space with her hits me in waves. I’m used to my solitude, my routines. Now, everything’s about to change.
Fuck.
It’s my wedding night, and I should really be with my wife, like really, be with her. You know, the way most newlyweds are. But instead, here we are, sitting at the bar, talking about logistics like we’re negotiating a lease, not a life together.
I glance over at her, feeling the oddness of it all settle in my gut. I know this is what I signed up for, what I wanted—to get my family off my back and help her keep the ranch. But it’s hard to shake the strangeness of it. I should be excited, but everything feels so clinical. So… transactional.
“And then on Sunday, we’ll go to my parents’ house for dinner,” I add, trying to push past the weirdness, reminding myself this is the next step. Introducing her to my family as my wife is going to be a whole thing.
Violet blinks slowly, her long lashes fluttering in the low light of the bar. Her big blue eyes are thoughtful as they meet mine. “Oh, right. The parents,” she says with a soft laugh, though there’s a flicker of hesitation behind it.
I can’t help but smile at the way she says it, like she’s bracing herself for the inevitable awkwardness. “Yeah, the parents,” I echo, taking a long sip of my beer. “It’ll be fine. They’re going to love you.” I’m not sure if I’m saying it to reassure her or myself. Probably both.
The truth is, I don’t know how my parents will react. I mean, this whole thing is sudden, and they’re not exactly used to surprises. But Violet, well, she’s easy to like. I just hope they don’t see through the charade. Because, let’s be honest, this isn’t your typical love story. It’s more like a business arrangement with a wedding band attached.
Violet fidgets with the edge of her sleeve, her fingers tracing the fabric as she thinks. “I’m sure it’ll be… interesting,” she says, her voice soft but not unkind.
“Yeah, interesting’s one way to put it,” I mutter, swirling the beer in my glass. We sit in silence for a moment, the noise of the bar filling the space between us.
"I think this is the last of it," I say, hauling in another box, slightly heavier than the rest, into the spare room of Violet’s cozy rambler. The room smells faintly of lavender and fresh laundry, a far cry from the place I’ve called home for years. I set the box down with a thud, glancing around at the nearly empty room, which is now cluttered with my few belongings.