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Weight lifting was one hobby I wouldn’t be joining him in. Me and weights did not get along. I hated the mirrors and knowing everyone was using the same germy equipment. Yoga—done on my own personal mat—was much more my speed.

He sobered and leaned forward across the table. “All kidding aside, I’m hoping there are no deal breakers here.” His deep brown gaze met mine, sparkling with sincerity. “Look, I broke it down.” He moved to the counter and returned with a notepad and stack of papers. “With my insurance, your co-pays and medications are reasonable. A marriage would help us both. I’d like for us to get married.”

My face softened. He’d done his research. The number he’d circled was the same one I’d arrived at, reviewing the information he’d sent me. It was sweet that he’d worked so hard to pull together his own data to show me. Even if the numbers weren’t compelling, his work on my behalf would be. Deciphering medical insurance wasn’t anyone’s idea of a good time.

I took a sip of wine, letting the tannins roll over my tongue and stalled for time. His gaze didn’t leave my face. Screwing up my confidence, I finally answered. “I’d like that too.”

A grin took over his face, and the white of his smile was dazzling. “You won’t regret it, Melena. I think we’ll be good together.” The knots in my stomach were slowly unwinding. He seemed certain. “And if it doesn’t work out, we’ve got our drama-free one-year exit clause.”

My stomach sank at his words. Of course he was still planning for an exit. It was practical. I should be glad this wouldn’t complicate my goals. I should be the one planning for my exit. A long-term marriage would get in my way. I had to remind myself Jimmy was simply doing me a favor by proposing. This was about my medical care and his home, which I could see now meant a lot to him. It wasn’t really about us. But I wanted it to be. Something about his words pricked my balloon of hope. I cleared my throat and forced a smile. “Of course. Speaking of that, should we have a prenup of some kind? I don’t want you worried I’m taking advantage.”

His expression remained calm. “I’m not. I don’t think there’s time to meet with an attorney and draft something official if we want to marry in time to get your hospital visit covered. If you feel strongly about it though, we can write something down just the two of us.”

I released a breath. As weird as it sounded, writing down something that protected him made me feel better about what we were doing. The scales were too unbalanced. And I would need a concrete reminder of why we were doing this, something to keep me grounded. Something to manage my expectations. One year. Drama-free.

I nodded. He stood from the table, only to return with a piece of paper and a pen. He bit his lip before scrawling at the top, ‘Marriage Agreement between Melena Nemitz and Jimmy Torres.’ Then he looked up at me. “Okay, so what do we need on here?”

Totes normal to be hammering out a prenup. Totally. I took a shaky breath. “The house is yours, obviously, assuming you buy one while we’re married. I won’t have any claim on it if we decide things don’t work out after a year.”

He tilted his head, but then nodded and wrote ‘Jimmy retains the house if the marriage ends after one year.’ “Okay. What else?”

“I’ll pay my portion of the medical expenses and any other expenses like utilities and food while we’re married.”

“Hmm. You can pay your portion of the out of pocket, but the premiums come out of my check already anyway, so I’ll handle those.”

I frowned. I wasn’t sure that was fair, but Jimmy saw my expression. “No arguments. It’s a small thing.”

I nodded slowly. “Okay. My business remains independent. I need the freedom to work any hours necessary.”

Jimmy was quick to agree. “Same. Sometimes I have to pick up extra shifts. Our schedules are our own.”

“Then the only other thing I can think of, is if either of us is unhappy after one year, or it’s not working out, we get a no-contest divorce.” I looked at him tentatively, unsure if I wanted him to rescind that offer or hold firm. “That’s what you suggested, right?”

He tilted his chin. “Right.” He scrawled down the provisions we’d outlined and signed his name, passing the paper to me for my signature. Somewhere an attorney was probably gnashing their teeth over all the ways this was a bad idea, but so long as Jimmy and I were willing to live with it, other opinions didn’t matter.

“So, how do you want to do this?” I asked after passing the paper back to him.

His brows raised. Then comprehension dawned. “I don’t know. Quickly? We only have five more days before the end of the month and it’s a three-day wait for the license. For your ER visit to be covered by my insurance, we should get the license tomorrow. We could get married at the courthouse before the end of the month.”

“You want to get married at the courthouse?”

For a marriage of convenience, it was a business-like setting. But a secret corner of my heart mourned the idea of a fancy party in my hometown. Full of family and childhood friends—that’s how I’d always imagined getting married.

He shrugged. “It seems straightforward that way.”

Right. What every woman wants in her marriage. Not romance,straight-forwardness. I was surprised my own Mr. Martha wanted to keep things simple, but this wasn’t a real marriage. I didn’t know how I felt about a judge marrying us. Maybe keeping things impersonal was a good idea. Things were awkward enough without adding another dose of formality to the mix. Last time I’d seen a judge I was called for jury duty. She didn’t inspire celebratory vibes. I didn’t want to feel like I was on trial for marrying Jimmy. “What about your friend, Chase, officiating instead?”

Jimmy snorted. “Last time I checked, he wasn’t ordained. He judges me regularly, but he doesn’t sit the bench. He’s an author.”

“But he’s one of your closest friends. Do you think he’d get ordained online and do it for us this Saturday?”

Jimmy laughed. “He’d love it. You have no idea how much. I’ll ask. What about you, who would you like to invite?”

I stared thoughtfully at my empty plate. Only Lisa came to mind. She’d murder me if I didn’t invite her. I debated on whether I’d tell my family. It was short notice, and they were always busy back home. They’d be hurt to be left out, but I justified it by reminding myself this wasn’t arealwedding. “Just my friend Lisa.”

He examined my expression closely. “No family or other friends?”

Lisa was the only one of my co-workers I spent any time with outside of the spa. Aside from the occasional trip home to see high school friends, I didn’t have much of a social life in Tacoma. My clients and the gym made up most of my social contact outside of the occasional date. I shook my head. “Nope.”