ASHLEY

Married .

Ashley had actually married a stranger.

Liam was in her living room, about to go to sleep on a sofa bed that needed to be replaced several years ago.

Adrian would be giving her such a hard time right now, but she was struggling.

Her finances were a mess, her schedule was different, she sometimes would come home from a flight and just collapse, not wanting to be around people – and now she had invited someone into her home, her domain.

There would be no escaping, no more solitude.

Lying there in her bed, she stared at the ceiling, listening and on edge.

She heard Liam moving around in the bathroom, heard him flush the toilet, and then heard the water in the sink before she heard him spit moments later.

He had brushed his teeth. Something so simple seemed too strangely intimate because he was here, in her home, and they were married.

That single thought just echoed over and over again in her head.

Liam bought her a truck. A massive, overly expensive truck that was fully loaded and more than she would have picked for herself – because she had a last-minute case of nerves.

He wouldn’t back down, wouldn’t let her out of their bargain – not that she protested – and he was treating her like she was on a pedestal.

She had been supremely aware of him when he took charge at the dealership, insisting that they fill the truck with fuel for her, that all maintenance was included, making sure she paid for nothing.

These were things she never imagined, but he pressed for the extras to ensure she was taken care of, and oh man, was it appealing.

He was handsome already, gorgeous in fact, but that simple move unlocked the next level in her mind. ‘Handsome’ became ‘HOT,’ because he was caring for his wife, his woman… and that was her. The truck was in her name only – her new name – Ashley Savage .

“Oh gosh,” she whispered, clutching her blankets to her chin and glancing at the door as a reminder.

Would he suddenly advance on her out of nowhere like he had on the plane?

When he’d pushed her back, covering her mouth, and was whispering to her, she hated the fact that something deep down inside had responded to that masculine aggression.

She never liked pushy guys, but he’d ‘pushed’ just enough to get her attention and then backed off.

And she’d responded.

“I’m such an idiot,” she mumbled, rolling to her side and pinching her eyes closed. “I need to go to sleep, trust him not to be weird, and figure out how to make this mess work for both of us for the next ninety days.”

And her eyes popped open as she heard a thud, followed by a loudly hissed ‘Ouch!’ – immediately responding. She hollered out from her spot, checking on him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he called out. “I accidentally hit my toe on the end table. ”

“Okay. Good night.”

“Good night, Ashley,” he called out once more.

S omehow, she managed to fall asleep – and slept deeply.

Waking up the next morning, she stared out the cracked mini-blinds in the window near her bed, and she saw someone in the yard.

There was a man in her yard, walking around, and she bolted straight up in her bed out of fear before she realized who exactly it was.

Liam.

Her home, her little cabin, was on five acres of land and had once been a hunting cabin – and before that, it was a sugar cabin.

Her great-grandparents had once harvested maple sugar from the trees on the property years and years ago.

Time had changed the property, the town, and everything slowly had been modernized while preserving some of the more historical things.

There was still an outhouse at the very back of the property that spoke to that history.

The wooden outhouse had been rebuilt with metal and now was untouched.

In fact, you couldn’t pay her enough to attempt to walk in there or use it.

There were drainage ditches along a dirt path that ran down to the back of the property, weaving through the trees.

It was pretty, overgrown, and could be so much more except for the fact that she couldn’t afford to have the undergrowth cleared out.

She couldn’t afford to have the paver pathway put in, nor the outdoor fireplace that she wanted each time the crisp temperatures began to descend on the area.

Someday, she’d love to have an asphalt-laid drivew ay instead of a gravel one, making it easier to navigate in the snow.

She had to make it two miles to the main road before she reached plowed lanes during the wintertime.

Maybe she’d get a plow for the front of the truck someday?

Another thought.

Another ‘someday’.

Another dream that had to wait— but did it?

That little voice had spoken up as she watched Liam start off back along the dirt path – and she moved. She shot out of bed, yanked on a robe, and darted out the back door to warn him.

“Wait!” she called out nervously, looking around and saw him turn, glancing back at her. “Wait a second and be careful.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Each tract here is five or ten acres. It’s not very heavily populated – and I’ve seen bears, deer, a wolf, and even a moose. I always take a rifle with me.”

“Are you serious?” he started, moving back toward the house, glancing over his shoulder briefly as he headed her way.

“Yes.”

“That’s so cool,” he grinned, jogging the last bit to join her. “I grew up outside of Houston, and we’ve never had anything like that. Do you put out corn or something to bait them?”

“Bait them?” she gaped, staring at him. “No. I don’t want them here. I mean, I know they live in the woods, but bears can be destructive, moose can be mean if they feel threatened, and I’m not exactly a fan of wildlife.”

“Maybe I can see them from the back door,” he paused and gave her another easy smile, looking at the house. “What i f we put a large deck on the back of the house? Then we could sit out there and enjoy coffee together or…”

She must have had a look on her face echoing her thoughts. Frankly, she was stunned he was mentioning adding a deck to the tiny house, talking like they had a future; like he was planning on staying.

“Sorry,” he whispered, his smile fading. “It’s a really nice place, and it was natural to think about ways to enjoy this breathtaking view a little more. I didn’t mean to intrude or imply something was wrong with your home.”

“No,” she hesitated, tying her robe once more, realizing she was standing out here with him – barefoot and in her pajamas. “I’ve always wanted to make a seating area outdoors to enjoy it a little more, but…”

“But we need to see where we are at in this marriage in ninety days,” he finished when her voice trailed off, looking at her.

“I don’t mean to dissuade your ideas…”

“I wasn’t intending to push myself into your life – any more than what I’ve already done…”

The air around them pulsed with nervous energy, that strange, awkward dance they kept doing every time they were around each other.

Apologizing, pulling back, circling – married yet not – strangers circling.

Every word they exchanged was layered with so much hesitation, worry, and anxiety that it was wearing her down.

This wasn’t how she imagined any of this.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like walking on eggshells.

She did that enough at work but not here.

This was home. He’d talked about friendship in their fake marriage.

Home was supposed to be a refuge, the one place she didn’t have to wear a mask, perform, or brace herself against whatever came next.

Home should still feel like a comfort that she shared with a friend for the next three months – but not like this.

Not with the apologies, the awkward silences, the carefully phrased sentences between them. She was on edge, worried, and… and… it wasn’t good for either of them.

“Liam, relax and just stop,” she began, her voice softer than she had intended.

There was a weariness because she’d just gotten up, and the tension was already blooming between them.

“Look, I have a stressful job, and home is where I unwind, escape, or relax… but if I come home to you… the last thing I want is you apologizing for existing in the same space as me or trying to make our experience together something better, something nice.”

She could see it there in his eyes, the ache to make her comfortable with him, to make her happy, but what she didn’t need was perfection. She needed to feel real, comfortable, a part of a friendship she hadn’t anticipated – and saw him nod in agreement.

“I want you to enjoy our time together.”

“Then just be yourself around me and let me get to know you,” she whispered, her voice pleading. “Your tension is putting me on edge. We both have to stop worrying, putting our guards up, and relax. We made a temporary pact, you mentioned friendship, and whatever this is…”

“Ashley?”

Liam’s voice cutthroughherthoughts.Not sharply, but gentle enough to pull her out of any spiral as she tried to define whatever this fake marriage was between them. He smiled softly, a little sheepish, and in that moment, the morning sunlight was edging over the trees to burn off the mist.

“I made coffee. Would you like to have a cup together, and I could try to whip up something for breakfast – if you show me where the pantry is.”

The breath she hadn’t realized she was holding escaped in a small laugh. She met his smile, warm and genuine, as something loosened within her chest. He was there, trying and offering an olive branch between them that shouldn’t have been necessary, but it was there and welcome.

“I would love some coffee – and breakfast,” she replied, nodding and letting herself lean into the beginning of a strange friendship blossoming between them as she shared her life and home with Liam.

“Perfect,” he replied, nodding, smiling at her as he extended his arm like some gentleman at an event – and she a lady. She tucked her hand on his arm, despite wearing a bathrobe, and nodded, looking up into his eyes and ignoring that wobbly, fluttering feeling in her chest.

“Lead the way, my friend.”