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Chapter four

Gage

Unlocking the front door to my aunt’s house feels surreal, knowing she’s not on the other side. Grief slams into me—regret and remorse for not being here in her final days, wishing I could have visited her one more time before she passed.

I know she understood. She knew I would have been here if I could, if the doctors had let me. But it doesn’t make it sting any less.

I walk further into the house, tossing my keys on the kitchen counter as I look around.

The place looks the same as the last time I was here—the familiar stack of books on the coffee table that she’d read through faster than anyone I know, the coffee mug placed right by the coffee pot like she does every night, and her plants in the window, their leaves drooping since she’s not here to water them.

She’s gone.

She’s really fucking gone.

I officially have no family left.

I’m completely alone.

Isn’t that what you wanted, Gage?

The wind chimes on her back patio ring out as a breeze passes through. I want to believe that’s her, somehow sending me a sign that I’m not alone. As I swipe under my eyes, I remind myself that her presence still remains in other ways—like the stipulation in her will that ties me to Hazel Sheppard.

I glance around the room, gathering myself and wondering how the hell to even start this process. After Hazel left Timothy’s office, he told me my aunt’s other request—to prepare her house for sale. The proceeds were to be donated to the Carrington Cove Veteran’s Center in honor of Hazel’s dad.

“Does she know that?” I ask Timothy as he clasps his hands over his chest.

“Not yet. It was one last thing Diane wanted to do to thank her for her friendship.”

Hazel.

Fuck.

Seeing her again just piled onto the stress of this entire trip—not only because our interaction last year has played on a loop in my mind more times than I care to admit, but because my aunt has entangled us in a way neither of us could have predicted.

A marriage. A small fortune hanging in the balance.

And the insane part? I’m actually considering it.

Not only did I not know my aunt was that wealthy, but I never thought she’d be capable of something like this—something so calculated and manipulative.

It’s like she knew that kind of money would be the one thing to make me consider something I swore off two years ago when I realized letting someone fall in love with me would be the greatest mistake of my life—and theirs.

Bes ides, my aunt has told me about Hazel—about her heart, her passion for life.

Aunt Diane never showed me a picture of her, and I never bothered to look her up online.

I knew my aunt was delusional if she thought I’d upend my life in Florida to move here for a woman, so I never gave Hazel Sheppard much thought.

As far as I knew, she was a photographer, my age, and someone my aunt cherished. That was it.

Little did I know she would be the woman who helped add a checkmark on the bucket list my aunt had all but forced on me after my life imploded thanks to my father and his lies.

The sad part is, that’s the only task I completed off that list—because as soon as I touched her, I felt something in me shift, a connection that I couldn’t explain that’s haunted me ever since, and connection is the last thing I fucking need.

Loneliness.

That is the only avenue for me, and my aunt fucking knew that’s what I wanted.

Figures she’d try to fight me on that decision even after she died.

But how do I say no to this opportunity? How do I deny Hazel a life-changing amount of money? And how do I pass up the chance to open my own tattoo shop like I’ve always wanted?

I venture down the hall and into my aunt’s room.

I take a seat on her neatly made bed and the scent of her perfume immediately hits my nose.

The wind chimes ring again outside, and I stare out the window, trying to convince myself that I can do this—that I can agree to a marriage for six months and come out on the other side unscathed.

I’ve spent two years perfecting the art of shutting off my feelings.

Hell, when women started calling me an asshole instead of charming, I knew my transformation was working.

I didn’t want to give them the wr ong impression—that they would get anything more out of me than the physical connection I was offering.

But even that can’t happen with Hazel.

If my aunt thought forcing us to get married was going to change my mind about being alone for the rest of my life, she was sadly mistaken. I have to hand it to her though, dangling a 5.1 million dollar carrot definitely has me considering sacrificing six months of my life.

As long as we can agree to some terms and boundaries, six months will go by in a flash.

So before I can talk myself out of it, I shoot Hazel a text and pray to God—if there is one—that I’m not making the biggest mistake of my life.

***

I twist the ring on my middle finger as I stare out the window of Keely’s, waiting for Hazel to arrive.

A knot of doubt tightens in my throat, and my stomach twists with nerves.

Even though my life down in Florida is calling to me, begging for me to return, I know what I need to do for myself and for Hazel.

I’d be stupid to walk away from this opportunity.

The front door chimes, and when I turn in that direction, my eyes instantly lock onto Hazel’s long, tan legs peeking out from under the hem of her cutoff jean shorts.

Fuck, those legs would look fantastic wrapped around my shoulders .

I shake off that thought and stand to greet her. “Good morning.”

She eyes me curiously. “Is it?”

“Are you going to have a sarcastic reply for everything I say?” I ask as we take our seats.

Kee ly comes over to take Hazel’s order, and once she leaves, Hazel crosses her arms, her gaze sweeping over me like she’s debating whether I’m worth the energy. “I’m sorry. Am I supposed to be kind to you after this little turn of events?”

I can’t help my smirk. “Please, elaborate.”

She rolls her eyes. “You know what? Never mind.”

I lean forward in my chair. “No, Spitfire. Tell me. Tell me why you’re pissed at me.”

“I’m not pissed,” she starts, glancing away. “ Annoyed is more appropriate.”

“Because…”

Her eyes narrow, and I can’t deny that her irritation is only making her more attractive.

Focus, Gage. Thoughts like that are exactly what you need to avoid.

“Are you honestly going to play dumb with me?”

“I just want to hear you say it.”

She just glares at me, and I have to fight the grin tugging at my lips.

“Is it because you think I don’t remember you?” I ask, throwing her a bone since she seems to be just as stubborn as I expected.

She tilts her head to the side. “So you do remember me?”

I huff out a laugh, leaning back in my chair as I lift my coffee cup to my lips. “Yeah, Hazel. I remember you, babe.”

“Ugh. Don’t call me babe. You don’t even know me.”

“I know you better than you think.”

She rolls her eyes again. “Just because your aunt talked about me does not mean you know me. You only know the version of me she wanted you to.”

“Well, based on your reaction to me, I’m guessing the version she painted of me wasn’t the best?”

She shakes her head. “The opposite, actually. She spoke very highly of you, but I’m having a hard time seeing it, given how you’re behaving.”

The corner of my mouth lifts. “And how exactly am I behaving?”

“Like an immature man who can’t have an adult conversation with a woman because he’s afraid she’ll see right through his tough guy act and force him to be honest for once in his life.”

Jesus, Gage. She just figured you out in record time, and it barely took five minutes .

“Funny. You didn’t seem to have a problem with me when I had my hands on you last year.”

Hazel’s eyes widen, and she stumbles over her words. “I—I honestly was in such shock during that experience, I barely registered what was happening.”

“Uh-huh.” I tilt my head, my grin growing. “I’m calling bullshit. You wouldn’t be so pissed off if you hadn’t thought about it.”

We stare at each other for so long that I’m wondering if her heart is hammering as hard as mine is right now.

Those hazel eyes of hers are hypnotizing, deep and soulful, highlighting the disposition I’m getting to know.

This woman has stories. She’s lived a life in her twenty-nine short years, and I hate that I want to know more about it, that I want to know more about her—just as much as I did when I left her the first time .

Keely comes over with Hazel’s coffee, breaking our standoff, and part of me is relieved because I have a feeling Hazel could have kept going.

Yeah, my aunt was right. One hell of a spitfire she is .

Hazel takes a sip of her coffee, then crosses her legs and leans back in her chair, drawing my eyes back to her legs before I catch myself.

Unfortunately, she catches it too.

“ Can we move on and talk about why we’re really here, please?” she asks pointedly.

“Fine,” I agree. “Probably a good idea.”

“You’ll come to learn that I’m full of them.” She smirks as she takes another drink, her full lips a deep pink that distract me all over again.

Snapping out of it, I clear my throat. “Well, I think we both have a lot to learn about each other if we’re going to get married.”

Her eyes widen slightly, but she recovers quickly and studies me with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. “Does that mean you’re agreeing to this?”

I brush a hand through my hair and release a breath. “I’d be stupid to pass up 5.1 million dollars.”

Hazel scoffs. “Right? That’s how I feel.”

“But I’m serious when I say, that’s the only reason I’m doing this, Hazel.

” I lean forward again so she can see how serious I am.

“Timothy was right. I have always wanted to open my own tattoo shop, and this money would make that happen very easily. But love? Feelings? They have to stay out of it. I don’t do that shit. ”