Page 30 of The Marriage Deal (Sunset Falls #1)

IT COULD BE GOATS

LILAH

“Damn, it’s hot as Hades out here,” I mutter as I wipe the sweat from my brow with the back of my garden glove-covered hand. I’m thankful Briggs isn’t home yet. His front yard looks like a bomb of earth and flowers went off. Pots are everywhere.

My gaze travels to where Senior is sprawled on the cool stone of the covered porch, lucky pup. Spook aka. Spookers is inside, but the outline of a Halloween kitty in the windowsill tells me he’s watching me.

Something about the sight fills me with a warmth I really shouldn’t let myself feel, considering this isn’t actually home. But it’s home for now. And I’m done putting my life on pause for everyone else. I want animals, so I’ll have animals.

Briggs wanted an authentic wife, and I’d say he bought himself exactly that. Pun totally intended.

Tugging my phone from my pocket, I do the thing I’d do if I were truly his soon-to-be-wife.

I text: Just remember, it could be goats.

His reply is instant.

Briggs: Why does that scare me?

I laugh an absolutely hands down maniacal laugh. I can picture Briggs in the field with the planning crew, quivering with fear in his scuffed cowboy boots.

I snicker again, because I’m evil like that.

Then I decide I’ve sweat enough for today.

Dirt is caked in places dirt shouldn’t be and I’ve got streaks of it down my arms and legs.

I can only imagine, after all the fighting I’d done with my hair with my gloved hands, again covered with dirt, how my face looks.

The potting that remains can wait for another day.

Giving Briggs’ text another peek joined by another evil snicker, I slide my phone into my pocket without replying and tidy up quick.

Then I head inside with Senior to see Spookers with his back arched and tail whipping fast from side to side.

The hair on his back is a little puffed, but he’s not full tail puffed, so progress.

I don’t invade Spookers’ space even though I really want to give him a snuggle.

I watch Senior give him a wide berth as he passes, tail tucked between his legs.

I give Senior a ‘good boy’ pet as I begin for my bedroom.

When I glance over my shoulder, I see Spookers—so brave already—following not far behind us.

My heart warms, because he’ll fit right in in no time.

I drop my eyes to the old pup at my side. With another pat, I tell Senior, “He’ll love you soon.”

I strip and absolutely am a mess of dirt. Really, I don’t know how I do these things to myself.

I leave the bathroom door cracked open because Senior doesn’t like when I close it, but he doesn’t want to be in the bathroom either. I haven’t even fully wet my hair when I see a streak of black dart past a wide-eyed Senior.

I giggle as Spookers settles on the other side of the glass; Halloween yellow eyes big as they watch me.

Again, my heart swells. God, I am in love with this life I’m living right now. Every single part of it—even the part that I really shouldn’t be letting myself love.

I hate that I’m happier than I’ve ever been.

I hate that one day, I’m going to pack up Senior and Spookers to leave it all behind.

I hate that I fear when that day comes, I’ll be leaving my whole heart behind, too.

“I’m officially offended,” Tara snaps, only half serious. I think.

I hope…

“I’m sorry?” Why do I make that sound like a question?

“You’ve been to visit Mad a lot. Like, a lot. And how many times have I seen you outside of wine night, which you missed last time, I might add. What am I? Chopped liver?”

“Jealous?” I hedge.

“Damn right, I’m jealous!” she cries, beautifully unashamed.

“You’ve picked yourself up two housewarming gifts from Mad now.

And nothing from me. I know you love Tara’s Trinkets, so don’t play around like that, girl.

Get your ass in here and let me give you something for that big house you’ve moved into. ” She huffs a sigh. “Lucky bitch.”

“First, I haven’t picked up a housewarming gift from Mad. I adopted two in need animals—”

“They produce heat and live in that house. House. Warming.”

“Smart ass.” I snort, sliding my blade through crispy apples.

“I’m serious, though. I miss your face, too, you know.”

“I miss yours, too.” I slide the cutting board of apples into a big bowl. “I’ll make sure I pop in tomorrow. But I’d like to point out that you have nothing warm in Tara’s Trinkets.”

“Not true. Ellie just brought me stock of her candles. And guess what?”

“What?”

“I’ve already set aside three of the rose scented ones for you.”

“I love you.”

She makes a noise that says, ‘damn right, you do’ even though she speaks no words. “So,” she begins. “How are things with the man?”

I feel a spike of guilt for not having told Tara that things with Briggs aren’t actually real.

She’s the kind of friend who’d storm herself over here to give Briggs an ear full of the what for.

Where Madelyn can get behind the adventure of our rouse, Tara is the type to be more concerned with the aftereffects on my heart.

I love her for it, but that fact has me biting my tongue and swallowing my truth.

I tell her, “It’s good.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Good?”

“Yeah, good.”

“You moved in with the town’s most hated, but sexy as sin man, and you’re telling me it’s just good?”

“Well, I mean, he’s amazing, Tara. The town is wrong about him.”

“Really?”

“He cares about Sunset Falls. He cares about the future, the sustainability, and the people of this town.”

“And you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, how does he care about you?”

My breath hitches as I mix cinnamon, brown sugar, and melted butter into the peeled and sliced apples. “He cares about me as a man should care about a woman.”

There’s another pause, and then she says quietly, “Good. I’ve been worried about you since you came back home. So, good.”

Frick, I love my friends. “Have I told you I love you lately?”

“Like three minutes ago, but I’m greedy so I’ll take it.” A loud crash sounds in the background and I hear what sounds like a curse-filled prayer from Tara. “I thought I could slip away for a ten minute conversation with you, but nooooo.”

I laugh. “Are the boys okay?”

“I don’t hear any crying.” She sighs into the phone. “Is it bad that I just can’t wait until they’re a little older. Just a little older?”

“I think you need a spa day, hun. You’re sounding a little burnt out.”

“I have a four and six-year-old. They’re boys, so they fight like demons for fun. Of course, I’m burnt out.”

“Hence the spay day.”

“Every woman needs a spa day.” There’s another crash. Another sigh. “When are we booking?”

“I’ll get on it,” I promise.

I hear a scream echo over the line.

“I should probably make sure Mason isn’t kicking the crap out of Calix.”

I giggle, because Mason is the younger one. He’s also a classic example of second child syndrome. “Poor Calix.”

Tara groans. “Kacey works late again tonight. Curse him.”

“Go make sure everyone is breathing,” I tell her. “And arrange a sitter. I’m serious about that spa day.”

“You better be. Talk later.”

Another scream is cut off by the line going dead. I laugh.

And then I imagine what it might be like if I had that life. In this house. With the man who is my fake soon-to-be-husband.