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My eyes follow its movement, and I grip onto my glass so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t crack as I swallow down more bourbon. I’m the one who said I’d be honest, and if this is going to work, I owe her some truths.

“I won’t lie to my brothers,” I say, making sure she knows that’s a non-negotiable. “Griz?” I shrug. “I can work around him, but Linc and Grant are a hard line for me. If they ask, I’ll tell them the truth of how we came to be married.”

“And if they don’t?”

“Then they can believe whatever they’d like.”

“That you’re in love with me,” she says, pushing the pawn in the exact place I was expecting.

I advance my queen, taking her pawn. And she’s confused why I’d risk it by the way she studies the board, taking another measured sip of her drink.

Her fingers graze along the top of her foot, which she can reach easily by the way her legs are tucked beneath her.

“That we’re married regardless of the reasons.” I study the board and think about where she’d go next. “And that should be respected.”

“I’m assuming I’ll be living here?” she asks.

“It makes more sense.”

Her lips tilt up just as she takes another sip. “And I’ll be sleeping...”

I mirror her movement and take a drink. “You’ll be in my room. If Griz wasn’t here, it’d be easier to have your own space, but I’d rather avoid the attention it’ll draw if you move into the guest suite.”

“I don’t really cook,” she says. “Unless you count my version of girl dinner.”

I pause, not really sure what the hell that is. “What’s ‘girl dinner’?’”

She gives me a leveling glare, like somehow, I’ve royally fucked up.

So I mentally note that and just tell her, “Besides making breakfast for me and Griz and hosting family dinners on Fridays—although Laney likes to cook for those lately—you’ve been here long enough to know we have a private chef that does meals for the week. Just leave any special requests.”

Even though she nods, I can tell there’s more on her mind as she pictures what this is going to look like—us living together. Her bringing up cooking isn’t relevant, more like a warm-up. So I keep going with the more important and compromising parts of this arrangement.

“I don’t want you to change anything about your business or the things that are important in your life, but you’ll need to accompany me to things. You’ll need to play the part of a loving and devoted partner.”

She smiles, her pointy, red-chipped nail resting on her front teeth as she does it. “Devoted?”

I try to ground myself regarding the next few things I’m about to say.

“I don’t expect to hear about your life through my brother.

He’s your best friend, but I’ll be your husband for all intents and purposes.

There are plenty of things I’m capable of handling, but I can’t help or figure it out if I don’t know. ”

Glancing at the chessboard, she visibly swallows.

“And while this might not be a typical marriage, I recognize there are things...” I clear my throat once again. “I don’t want to find someone in my home or in my bed.”

Her eyes shoot back to mine. “Are you serious?”

I hate knowing how this woman has no qualms about leaning into her sexuality. She doesn’t cower behind it or prudishly keep quiet. I respect it, but fuck, do I hate it.

She barks out a laugh when I look at her pointedly. “Are you serious right now? What about you? Does this go both ways?”

“Of course, this goes both ways. I won’t allow a third party putting this agreement at risk or making either one of us look like we’re cheating pieces of shit.

” I try to read her reaction, but for the first time—maybe ever—I have no idea what’s going through her head.

“You know how this town talks. The two of us getting married is already going to catch like fire.”

“And if I’d rather not follow this particular rule?”

I do my best not to physically respond to her words. Clenching my teeth, I swirl what’s left in my glass, giving myself a moment to calm the nerve that remark just hit. “Rules are meant to be followed, Hadley.”

She moves another pawn. “I don’t think that’s how the phrase goes.”

I keep my attention on her and not the way my shirt looks better on her than me, or the way she’s looking at me right now—as if she wants nothing more than to push every one of my buttons.

Sighing, she rubs at her bottom lip. “You realize you’re no fun? You’re taking away one of the most fun parts of a marriage, Ace.”

“Infidelity isn’t a part of marriage, Hadley.”

She rolls her eyes and clarifies. “ Sex . You’re taking sex out of the equation with this”—she air quotes—“rule.”

“Out of all the things we should be talking about, this shouldn’t be your priority.”

She raises her eyebrow and smirks. “Is it because you’re older? Things aren’t as...” she taunts, glancing down at my crotch.

“You’re a smart woman. I’m sure you can figure out how to ease your needs,” I practically choke out. Like telling this woman to get herself off is as casual as telling her the weather.

“Oh, I’m very well-versed in that department,” she mumbles.

Fuck. My dick nudges me at the insinuation.

“How long?” she asks on an exhale. “I’ll need reinforcements,” she mumbles to herself as she picks up her phone, swiping at the screen. “How long is this marriage and its rules going to last?”

Good fucking question. “It’s more than just the bourbon business now. We’re talking about your safety, along with a plan that needs...massaging,” I say, barely holding back a groan, hoping like hell this all works out.

“Then I have some rules of my own.” She sits back in her chair, her fingers gliding along the edge of the leather. “You’re not going to treat me like some kind of inconvenience. If you invite me to something, I won’t just be an arm piece.”

It’s amusing for her to think so low of me. That I’d ever consider her as either of those things.

Tipping her chin up, her eyes meet mine when she adds, “I’ll be your wife, Ace, but don’t ask me to turn into something I’m not.”

“Like what?” I smile. “Quiet? Reserved? Obedient?”

A laugh erupts out of her. “You know how well that’ll end for you, if you ever suggest me to be quiet.

” She shifts in her chair. “Reserved? Not in my wheelhouse.” With a hum, she moves a pawn.

“Obedient, though?” She bites the inside of her lip, as if she’s thinking about a word I so carelessly threw out.

“Depends.” Her eyes shift to mine, and there’s a twinkle there meant to torture me.

“Playing with power dynamics has always been intriguing to me. But I wonder...is it sir and daddy that gets you all warm and fuzzy? Or would you prefer a whimpering please ?”

She has a way of getting under my skin, and I don’t even realize it's happening until it’s too late.

Answering that question is asking for trouble, and she knows it.

So, I keep to the point. “You have my respect, Hadley. Always have, but even more so now as my wife. I will not treat you in any way that doesn’t show respect.

You should know that. And if you didn’t”—I clear my throat—“well, now you do.” Releasing a breath, I force a smirk to keep my shit together. “What else?”

Fidgeting just a little bit, she’s buying time to figure out what else she should demand.

“I want a nickname. You always say my name with a little twinge of annoyance—I’m not sure you even realize it.

But other people will. So...” She lifts one shoulder like this request is no big deal. “I want a nickname. Something sweet .”

I watch and wait for what else she’ll say, but she lets the statement linger there. She wants me to call her sugar .

As I study the chessboard, I can’t help but crack another smile.

With my silence, she keeps going. “I’m not against something typical like babe or sweetheart , but I feel like you can be more creative than that.

” She finally looks up at me. “What? Your brothers really stepped up with the nicknames Peach and Honey . I’ll feel left out.

” She fiddles with one of the buttons on her shirt when she can’t help but mutter, “You seem to react nicely to Daddy, so?—”

Jesus, she’s trying to kill me. “No. You’re not calling me that, Hadley. I’ve told you this already. It’s a hard no.”

She blinks at the forcefulness of my words. “Alright. Can I ask why?”

“Your father—” I start to say, taking the opening to shift the conversation. She needs to know my plans, and I’m not going to enter this with her and have it hanging over our heads.

“Ace, are you kidding me?! You can’t drop a cold bucket of water like that on me.

Please do not connect the two. My relationship with that man does not have anything to do with that word.

Ew!” She cringes. “They’re similar words, but they do NOT mean the same thing. I understand limits and can respect?—”

“Hadley,” I interrupt her rambling, shaking my head. “If you’d let me finish...I went to see your father.”

“You what?” She stops the glass decanter from pouring mid-air, her face turning from curious to angry within two blinks.

“Your father knows more than he should about my business. He threatened to share names of my colleagues. Names he shouldn’t know or with whom to share them.

” I bite down and clench my jaw trying not to get worked up over this right now.

“It puts my friends and their families in danger and I can’t allow that.

” I pause and take a breath before what I’m about to say.

“Unless I convince you to see him and grant him access to the financials tied to Finch & King funds.”

She tosses back the entirety of the bourbon she poured.

“I have plenty of reasons why I don’t want to help that man, never mind see him.

Speak with him. And you...” Her anger drifts off just as quickly as she realizes what I’m saying.

“He wants access to all of the estate through me, so you’re marrying me. ..to make that impossible?”

I smile and give her a firm nod. “I’m marrying you to gain my share of Foxx Bourbon.

” Even though it feels like a lie at this point, it makes sense for me to have a selfish part in this.

“ And to make sure you’re safe because, despite everything, that matters to me a great deal.

” I don’t miss the way her mouth parts, but no words come out, almost like she’s taken aback.

“I can’t tell you when this will end, because I don’t know if your father being sent to prison ends any of this burden thrust upon you.

But you’re marrying me to help and pay back a debt you think you have, and to make sure your father doesn’t have an opportunity to use you again, or anyone else for that matter. ”

She blinks and stays quiet. Maybe absorbing everything I’ve just said or planning my demise. Her unpredictability is as enticing as it is terrifying.

“Then what? After you get your portion of the business and after my father...after all of that settles, then what?” she asks, sinking back into the chair. “After all of it, we just stay married? You have to have an exit strategy, Ace.”

I grit my jaw. If it were up to me, there’d be no exit strategy. The thought of it ending feels wrong, regardless of it being an integral part of an agreement like this. I’m so fucked. “I’ll let you decide. When it’s enough. When you say, then we stop.”

She glances at the board, and then back at me. “And you’ll be okay with that—allowing me to be in charge of how this ends?”

“Yes,” I say, watching her think through her next move. “I would prefer that this marriage look as real as possible. If there are things you need or want, then you need to ask for them. I’m not a mind reader, and I don’t want this ending in either of us hating the other.”

“I don’t think I could ever hate you,” she whispers. And I could never hate her . “If you meet someone and?—”

“I won’t,” I say, looking her in the eyes, leaning forward, bracing my elbows on my knees and letting the empty glass hang from my fingers.

I won’t. “How and when this ends can be up to you.” She doesn’t need to know that an end is the furthest thing from my mind right now. Not with the way she’s looking at me.

She mirrors my pose—elbows braced on bent knees, looking me in the eye. “While I appreciate the sentiment, I don’t want the responsibility. This is a partnership. Plenty of people muck this part up—forget the fact that choosing someone isn’t just about the gesture, it’s the ride.”

“Hadley . . .”

“I’m not done,” she says, glancing at my mouth. “The minute you want to choose something or someone else, you tell me. We’ve both earned that level of respect.”

There won’t ever be anyone else for me.

She moves one of her pawns to the right side of the board. A move I knew she’d make. So I take her knight.

“I refuse to be anyone’s pawn,” she says with a slow smile.

I look at where her eyes just fell and where her rook is set.

Wiping my hand across my mouth, I try to erase my impressed amusement.

She set a fishhook. In chess, a gambit typically means sacrificing a pawn.

But this move sacrifices something higher, a stronger piece to gain the advantage.

She isn’t only a smartass with a dirty mouth.

My soon-to-be wife just played me. And with strategy.

She tips her glass all the way back, rather dramatically, then gets to her feet and heads for the door.

“If you are making plans that involve me, I expect to know about them. I will not be just a player on your board.” Lingering in the doorway, my shirt hits high on her thigh.

She looks too good in it. “Careful looking at me like that, I might get the wrong idea...husband.”

With a wink, she leaves my office, just as she calls out, “Checkmate!”