Sweetest in the Gale - Olivia Dade Page 0,77

transfer them to his before the wedding ceremony. Talked about using his truck and the help of his construction buddies. Worked out all the details with obvious satisfaction in that deep voice.

But before he could get too smug, she insisted on a few addenda.

“First, we need a prenup.” She sat up straight. “Not to protect me. To protect you and reassure your kids. I’m not the rightful beneficiary of any of your possessions or money, and I want that clear to everyone involved.”

That prenup might also provide her with a reminder, if she needed one, of the precise terms of their marriage. The document’s strict bounds would confine her. Corral any wayward emotions.

He shook his head. “You won’t take advantage of me, Elizabeth. Everyone knows that. And if they don’t, they should.”

“We’re doing it,” she told him. “Or else the deal is off.”

Despite his narrow-eyed death stare, she didn’t falter or flinch.

He sighed. “Fine. We’ll get a prenup.”

“Second, we need to make a list of all our expected household expenses and divvy them up fairly.” Fishing in her purse, she located her phone. “Let’s do that over pizza. I’m paying.”

He took the cell from her hand and gave his own credit card number for the order, despite her protestations. A fitting start to the expense-allotment discussion, which—to her complete lack of surprise—didn’t go smoothly either. Even Carmelo’s truly excellent chicken parmesan pizza couldn’t make the stubborn man across the table see reason.

“If you cook for us, we can consider that ample repayment for your portion of the utilities and all the other bills.” James set aside his cleared plate and patted the gentle mound of his stomach. “We both know how much I love your food.”

She glared at him as she removed the blueberry cheesecake from his refrigerator. “No. Absolutely not. I’ll pay an equal share.”

But after a few more rounds of argument and a couple wedges of the cheesecake, she found herself agreeing to a compromise. She’d get a discount on the bills in exchange for cooking, largely because he told her, his mouth set in a mulish line, that he wouldn’t eat her food otherwise. And that was unacceptable to her.

They tackled her third and final addendum over decaf coffee. By then, he’d stripped off his sweatshirt and was—rather distractingly—only wearing a worn, thin t-shirt and jeans that molded faithfully to his strong thighs.

It was unfair, to say the least.

“We need to discuss what we should do if we find ourselves interested in other people.” She looked down at the sturdy blue mug in her hand, trying not to picture the situation. “While we’re still married, I mean.”

A long silence stretched between them, and he didn’t say a word. Finally, she raised her gaze to him again.

For some reason, he looked…odd. Agitated, almost. Above his reddish-brown beard, his cheeks had flushed, and those crossed arms had tightened until she could see his biceps pulling at his tee.

She didn’t understand. Was he embarrassed at the awkwardness of the question? Or was the thought of another romantic relationship that repugnant to him after the slow-motion train wreck of his marriage?

His blue eyes rested on her, sharp and intent. “Do you think it’s likely you’ll want to date another man?”

“Of course not.” She waved a hand. “I don’t have the energy for dating. And if I haven’t found someone I loved enough to marry in forty-seven years, what’s the likelihood I’m going to locate him this year?”

“You’re marrying me,” he pointed out, his shoulders dropping a fraction.

“That’s different, and we both know it.”

He made a kind of humming sound in response.

“But we should come up with a plan in case you meet someone.” And God, why did that thought send a lightning bolt of pain through her chest?

He dismissed her statement with a shrug. “Nah. I’m good.”

She didn’t have the strength to argue more. Or maybe she didn’t want to argue more, not about that. “Fine. Forget about it.”

Then, to her shock, he added one final addendum of his own.

“We can divorce once you’re eligible for individual insurance again.” He reached out to clasp her hand, a gesture he seemed to make all the time now. As always, it felt warm and comforting in a way that discomfited her. “But we don’t have to. I want that clear. As far as I’m concerned, we can stay married forever.”

Why? Why would he make that offer?

She laughed through the ache and the longing. “I’m unfit for human company before I’ve had at least

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