Page 23

Weird night. ?

I stretch my arms overhead and twist from side to side, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.

When it’s ready, I grab my favorite oat milk and pour just a splash into the cracked mug I brought over from my dad’s place last night.

I stare down into the dark swirls, hoping they’ll somehow explain what the hell happened between Hayes and me last night.

After that… moment we shared together, he’d retreated upstairs without another word and probably passed out the second his head hit the pillow because I never heard his door open again.

Meanwhile I’d packed away the old Mayberry photos I’d been looking at, tucked myself onto the new couch Colt moved in for me earlier that day, and stared at the ceiling unblinking.

There’d been something between us when he’d wrapped me in his arms to comfort me. A pause heavy enough to toe the line between what we should and shouldn’t be doing. At least, I think there was. For a second, it felt like he was going to kiss me.

Would that have been a bad idea? Probably.

Did I still want him to? Absolutely.

I’ve been attracted to Hayes since the first day I laid eyes on him seven years ago.

And like a good whiskey, time has only made him hotter, steadier, more…

him . I can’t explain it. He’s changed and somehow stayed the same.

That age gap between us? Irrelevant. He’s got that rough-around-the-edges cowboy thing going for him, like life carved him out of something solid and forgot to sand down the sharp parts.

But he’s haunted and even a bit tortured.

I can see it in the way his jaw clenches, the distant look that sometimes creeps into his eyes.

Like he’s got some stories that explain his behavior and hesitancy towards women and relationships.

I don’t push. I get it. Some wounds aren’t meant to be shared with strangers.

And technically, that’s what we still are to each other and likely the way we’ll stay.

Which is why I’m here, at five in the morning, rubbing sleep from my eyes and nursing coffee like it’s a lifeline and not spending my first morning as a married woman in bed with him.

I’m about to head over to the family’s egg farm because Cash sent me a crisis text as soon as he woke up, something about one of his older hens breaking their leg.

Poor guy treats his chickens like royalty, even after their egg-laying days are over.

His heart’s as soft as the down on their feathers and his chickens are like his children.

A knock on the front, screen door jolts me out of my thoughts.

I straighten my shirt, assuming it’s the realtor dropping off the barn keys I requested, along with spares for the cottages that our future wedding guests will grace with their presence, but instead, it’s a woman.

Pretty. Dark brown hair, bright green eyes, holding a bag in her hand like she isn’t lost at all.

“Hi, can I help you?” I ask, voice still scratchy from sleep as I open the front door.

She sizes me up with a grin. “Whoa. You’re super pretty. No wonder Hayes is trying to fight the legitimacy of your marriage.”

My brows drop. Uh, what?

I blink, trying to reboot my brain. “Have we met before?” Did Hayes tell this woman about our arrangement?

She steps forward, thrusting out a hand like we’re old friends. “Scarlett Walker. Hayes’s little sister from South Carolina.”

Oh. Okay. That makes more sense. Slightly.

I shake her hand, trying to play it cool. “Nice to meet you. I think he mentioned having a sister. I’m Regan Marshall.”

She squints at me, head tilted. “That’s an interesting name.”

I laugh because it is. “Long story. My mom thought she was having one baby her entire pregnancy which was my twin brother, Colt. Surprise, I came out first. They’d only picked out boy names, so when they had to fill out the birth certificate in a panic, ‘Regan’ it was. The other name they’d chosen for Colt.”

Scarlett grins. “Love that for you.”

And just like that, I realize this day is going to be something else entirely.

I shake her hand, then smile a little harder because I can see it now.

She looks like Hayes. Same sharp, pretty mouth, same round eyes, though hers are smaller, brighter and a little less tortured.

I can see the resemblance, even if they wear it differently.

But what really floors me is that Hayes told her about our marriage already .

I mean… that was yesterday so I get it, but he seems like the type of guy who would have wanted to keep things.

.. private. Especially with his family. Especially since this isn’t a real marriage.

“I take it he didn’t mention I’d be stopping by?” she asks, tilting her head.

I shake my head. “Nope. But he worked late last night, and we didn’t geta chance to talk much.” Because of him making my heart race while he held me against his chest and told me he shouldn’t kiss me. “Come on inside and let me grab you some coffee. You must be exhausted from the drive.”

She steps inside, giving the place a quick once-over, her smile lingering. “Thanks, I’ll take it black with only a little sugar. This house is cute. You’ve started decorating already?”

“Trying to,” I say, shutting the door behind her.

“It’s going to need a lot of work. Hayes said he’d help with the big stuff like ripping out wallpaper and painting, but I’ve mostly been clearing out old furniture and bringing in some new pieces.

” I gesture for her to follow. “Come on, I’ll show you around the place. ”

She falls in step beside me as I guide her through the downstairs.

It’s not big, but it’s not small either—just the right kind of charming with enough space for Hayes and me not to be bumping into each other constantly.

Closed-off living room, unlike the open-concept everyone seems obsessed with these days.

A den in the back that could double as an office, a full bathroom tucked under the stairs, and a cozy kitchen at the front.

It’s nothing fancy. Just enough for me. With Hayes living here too it could become cramped at times, but I don’t mind. I have a feeling our schedules will rarely cross.

“Upstairs has three bedrooms,” I say as we loop back to the entry.

“You’re welcome to take one while you’re here unless you’d rather have your own space.

Then we have the cottages you passed at the beginning of the driveway.

We’d just have to wait for the realtor to drop off the keys to those buildings tomorrow. ”

She shakes her head, waving me off. “I’m good with whatever’s easiest for you two. I don’t want to be a hassle.”

I laugh softly. “Absolutely not. I’m happy to have you here.

I’m sure I can use your help.” I turn to her slowly, debating on how much I should divulge to respect Hayes privacy.

“Honestly, I think Hayes is still feeling… a little weird about this whole arrangement. Might be nice having you around to break the tension.”

Scarlett snorts. “Uncomfortable sounds about right. He’s never lived with anyone before.”

“Anyone?” I arch a brow, genuinely surprised because he’s in his forties now and that’s surprising.

“Unless you count me and my brother,” she says, shrugging. “But we’ve got a different mom, and there’s almost fifteen years between us. For most of his life, it was just him and our dad. Then he moved out the second he could and joined the circuit for bull riding.”

“Wow,” I murmur. “I guess I just assumed he’d lived with… you know, a girlfriend. Or maybe another guy he competed with at some at point.”

She laughs outright. “No girlfriends. He’s never really dated anyone consistently either. Unless you count Vanessa. You know, I think they might have lived together briefly but that was a disaster.”

Vanessa. Noted. Filing that name away for later.

“I think that’s why this marriage is so shocking,” Scarlett adds. “But now that I’m here and have met you, it makes more sense.”

I’d love to know how any of this makes sense to her because it’s still not making sense to me.

“Hayes got home pretty late last night,” I say instead of diving into her comments further. “He’s still sleeping.”

“Oh, you saw him?”

I nod. “Yeah, I was up going through some boxes of things from the previous owner. Lost track of time.”

She hums like she’s filing that away, then glances around again. “Well, I can hang out here until he wakes up, or…”

“Or you can come with me,” I offer before I can overthink it because she’s Hayes family which means in some weird, twisted way she’s now my family too and it’ll be nice to have some company. “I’m heading to my family’s egg farm to help out with the new baby chicks. I could use the company.”

Her face lights up. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, why not? Maybe you’ll fall in love with them and decide to stay. I bet Hayes would love that.”

She laughs. “Yeah, I don’t think so but I’m down.

” She drops her bag and pulls out a pair of worn boots before tugging her dark hair into a messy bun.

I already like her. She’s down for anything, no pretense and isn’t turning her nose up at the thought of getting messy with some baby chicks before the sun is hardly even up.

I grab my coffee, pour it into a to-go cup, and hand her one too with a grin. “We’ll take the golf cart.”

***

Three hours later, Scarlett and I are a hot, sweaty mess, knee-deep in wood shavings and baby chick chaos.

We’ve just finished feeding the newest batch of fluff balls and scrubbing out their home, both of us glistening in that special kind of farm grime that sticks to you like a badge of honor.