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)
She mirrors my stance, crossing her arms over her chest. The action brings attention to her cleavage. “Is that so? Well, don’t let me stop you then.” She turns to walk away, and I stop her.
I place my hand gently on her shoulder, trying to steady both of us. "Wait."
She spins around with a sharpness that almost stings, her anger flashing like a storm ready to break. “What?”
“I think we can really help each other,” I say, my voice quieter now, trying to soften the blow of what I’m trying to suggest. "How long do you need to be married for?"
“Two years,” she whispers, the tension in her shoulders easing just a little as her arms drop to her sides. The fire in her seems to flicker for a moment, like she’s tired of fighting the world all on her own.
Two years. I can do two years, right? It would get my family off my back, and Violet is as work-obsessed as I am. We’re not the type to get caught up in messy feelings. We’d both focus on our careers, no drama. “And after two years we can get divorced and never have to see each other again?”
She shrugs, a hesitant movement. "I guess, but I still don’t get what you’re getting out of this."
I take a deep breath, glancing down at the dusty ground before meeting her gaze again. “My mother... she has the best intentions, really, she does. But my siblings, they’ve all found their person, you know, that one person who completes them, or whatever. And they expect me, as the oldest, to do the same. To meet someone, fall in love, get married, live happily ever after. But that’s just not me. I have no interest in falling in love, no desire to get married for real. Honestly, I’m married to the brewery at this point, and I think you and I have that in common. We’re both workaholics.”
She nods slowly, her expression softening as she considers it. “Yeah, this ranch... it requires a lot of hands-on work. There’s no time for anything else.”
“Exactly,” I say, inching closer, hoping she’ll see the logic in this crazy idea. “We’d probably hardly ever see each other. You’d run the ranch, I’d run the brewery, and in the meantime, it would keep my family happy. And you’d get to keep the ranch.”
She hesitates, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “And at the end of two years?”
I shrug, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “It’s over. Easy and done. No strings attached.”
She studies me for a moment, her eyes searching my face for something, maybe reassurance that I’m serious, maybe proof that I’m not as insane as I sound. The wind blows softly between us, kicking up the scent of hay and earth, grounding us in this bizarre proposal we’re considering.
Violet doesn’t speak, but I can see the wheels turning in her mind, weighing the pros and cons. I don’t blame her. It’s not every day someone offers a no-strings-attached marriage contract.
Chapter 5
Violet
Callum Atwood stands before me, a vision of calm confidence like some heaven-sent angel offering me a lifeline in the middle of my storm. His piercing green eyes lock onto mine with an intensity that sends a jolt through me, making it impossible to look away. His presence, tall and commanding, fills the room, and for a brief moment, the chaos surrounding me fades into the background. Every inch of him radiates assurance as if he’s the answer I’ve been waiting for.
It’s terrifying, but the clock is ticking. I have two months until I turn thirty, and there’s no sign of any other marriage proposals on the horizon. If I want to save this ranch, there’s no other option. As much as I hate to admit it, Callum makes a good point: we’re both workaholics, too busy chasing our own ambitions to even think about love. This marriage doesn’t need to be anything more than a contract. A business deal. He can live his life, and I’ll live mine. We’ll be married only on paper, bound by convenience, not affection. Love, emotions—those are for people looking for something else, something softer, but I’m not. I’m looking to save my legacy, my family’s blood and sweat, and Callum just threw me a life preserver when I was drowning.
I push my hair off my face and nod as I hold my hand out. “All right, you have a deal.”
His face lights up, the corners of his mouth curving into an easy, confident smile. For a moment, I’m struck by how handsome he really is. Broad shoulders, chiseled jawline, and those eyes that seem to gleam with something just shy of mischief. I could definitely be marrying worse. Callum isn’t just good-looking; he carries himself with confidence and that is incredibly sexy. He comes from a fabulous family, the type whose door is always open and they will do anything to help you. I can’t help but wonder what they’ll think of this whirlwind marriage, but that’s his problem to deal with, not mine. As far as I’m concerned, this is a business deal. Nothing more. Let him handle the fallout.