Damn, he was infuriating and also hot when he got this way. Bossy and insistent with a healthy dose of cranky—that was Lucas in a nutshell. Too bad he was also wrapped in a pretty package that I couldn’t help noticing. Over and over. It’d be so much easier to be irritated by an ugly asshole rather than a beautiful one.
It didn’t help that his bossiness always had me wondering if he was that way in bed, too. Stop it, Kat!
I was lucky, really. So far he hadn’t asked many questions about why it was so vital I stay here in the US and not go back to Canada. My heart raced and my stomach dipped even thinking about that possibility. No. He was helping me stay here and putting himself on the line to do it. So for that, I’d overlook the asshole-ness and be grateful.
My home country was a wonderful place. But the specific situation I’d left… not so much. I fidgeted again, plunging the straw in and out of my empty cup to produce a wailing squeak. After a minute of this, he shoved his hand on top of mine to stop me, that fabulous jaw tensing.
“Cranberry,” he muttered between his teeth. “Calm down.”
His hand was warm and calloused—apparently from years of rowing crew in college, he’d once said. Warm tingles raced up my arm from where our skin connected. Holy crap. Tingles… shocks… goosebumps. I gulped loudly and extricated my hand from under his. Then I scooped up the pen and added my signature to the license.
After reading over the form again, I sat back, glancing up in time to catch that he was staring intensely at me, his eyes somewhere on my neck or hair. But as soon as I caught him, everything changed. By the time he met my gaze again, that usual granite veil had been replaced in seconds.
He gave me a not-so-convincing nonchalant shrug and looked out the window.
“So when do I move in?” I bounced cheerfully. I already knew the answer to the question. But as usual, I found it almost impossible to avoid the temptation of pushing his buttons once in a while.
His face darkened. “You said—”
I held up my hand. “Kidding. I’m kidding. But I need to make it look like I’m living there with you. I’ll have all my mail sent there, if you don’t mind. But never fear, I’ll keep living with Heath at his condo.”
He turned back to me. “We should also get a joint bank account and I’ll add your name to my bills. You won’t have to pay them.”
I snorted. “Good, because I’d never afford the mortgage on your fancy house.”
“Whatever.”
“I’ll put together a photo album. Can you send me any pictures you might have? I’ve got some from past work parties. We should pose for a few, too. I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to do something rare and possibly painful, though, and actually smile in the photos.”
He sighed. “Fine, if I must.”
I couldn’t resist picking up my phone and snapping one of him now, complete with scowl. Then I took a moment to study it. Even with that scowl, he was way too handsome—a fact I once again reminded myself to ignore. “Well, this won’t help me give us a glamorous, romantic wedding for the immigration officers. We’ll have to work on that.”
“You’re filing the paperwork right away?”
I glanced down at the marriage license between us that bore both our signatures. “I have to. By court order. I’ll get it all done.”
“Good. There shouldn’t be any problems with that then. And of course, we have rules for everything else.” I raised my brows at him, almost as if to challenge him to dare to go over that BS yet again. “You do remember the rules, right?”
Aaand here we go…
I shook my head, gaze flying out the window. Jedi Boy and his damn rules. “Yes, I remember. You’re not going to make me repeat them.”
His eyes narrowed. “Wanna bet?”
My gaze snapped back to his. “You’re annoying.”
“Don’t care.” He stared me down.
I blew out a long breath. “Fine. But this is the last time I speak them out loud, got it?” No reaction. I bit my lip and continued. “No acting like a married couple at work, at home or ever. No joking about being married. The secret does not go beyond you, me and Heath. No dating other people.” I slurped at my drink noisily to