Page 32 of The Marriage Deal (Sunset Falls #1)

THE LONG ANSWER

LILAH

Shana Alder is the kind of woman who feels good.

I thought I’d be anxious and unsettled to meet my fake fiancé’s mother, but as soon as Briggs opened the door and she waltzed through to throw her arms around me and pull me into her chest, I instantly felt welcomed into her heart.

A heart I learned throughout the night is utterly gigantic.

She strokes a hand with fingers bound by stacked rings of gold down the length of Spookers, who has made her lap his spot on the deck. The sun bowed to the moon long ago, but conversation is still going strong.

“He always did love the land,” she tells me with a small smile touched by the past. “Before he started tinkering with tech, I thought he’d end up back on a farm.

” She sighs as she looks out over the rolling hills now mostly concealed by the blanket of night.

“I don’t know why I never imagined he’d end up here. ”

“Probably because I never came here,” Briggs says from where he sits close beside me, his arm thrown over the back of my seat. When he’d first sat down like that, my heart had fluttered. I’m not sure it ever stopped even hours later.

“Before this house was Daniel’s, it was your grandfathers. He was a good man.”

“I know.”

“He would have wanted you here.”

“Know that, too.” Briggs’ words are gruff, but they are wrapped in undeniable emotion.

Shana pulls in a big breath, as though sucking in the words she wants to say. She turns to me, “What about you, Lilah?”

“Me?”

“You’re from Sunset Falls. Is this always where you wanted to stay?”

“Oh, this has always been my home. It’s the only place I’ve ever wanted to be, really.”

“Your whole family is here?”

“They are.”

Her lips flatten into a thoughtful line as she nods. I don’t know much of her history with Daniel Alder other than it wasn’t great. But I suddenly wonder if she ever met my parents.

I hesitate for only a moment, but ask, “Do you know many people here?”

“Honestly, no. I’m sure there will be a few familiar faces, but Daniel was—” Her eyes flick to Briggs and back. “I mostly stayed home.”

“Are you comfortable here?” Briggs asks suddenly, darkly. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard the low danger in his voice that I hear now. As though he’s a moment away from burning it all down and rebuilding just to protect her from a bad memory.

“Oh, of course.” Shana smiles. “It’s very different from what it was.” She laughs low. “This whole deck, for one, wasn’t here. Much of the house has been renovated.”

“Probably why Daniel was so close to bankruptcy.”

My eyes whip to him. “What?”

“The man was months away from losing it all.”

I sputter. “He—really?”

“Really.”

“He always was a flashy man. Always wanted others to look up to him, up to what he had.” Shana shakes her head sadly. “He never was happy just being blessed.” We sit in the silence of our thoughts for a moment, before Shana asks, “So, tell me, how many babies do you want?”

“Oh, well, I…” Gosh, I’m confident I’m burning up. I can feel Briggs’ eyes on me, waiting.

Why isn’t he helping me right now?

I suck in a big breath and decide on the truth. “I’ve always wanted a big family. Three babies. Maybe four.”

I can’t make myself look at Briggs. I can still feel his gaze is hard and hot on me, but I don’t have the courage to peek at him until he leans in and mutters low, “Always knew you were a little lunatic. Four babies.” His lips swipe across my temple. “God help me.”

God help me, too. The man is good at playing for real.

Too good.

The bedroom door closes behind Briggs. Senior is already stretched out beside his bed at the foot of Briggs’ as though this has been his place to snooze since day one.

Shana seduced Spookers into her room with the promise of extra pets and a spot on her bed, not that the little traitor-cat understood her. Or maybe he did.

“I think your mom is going to steal my cat for herself.”

“She’s always liked animals. Cats especially.”

“Well, Spookers is mine.”

Briggs chuckles. “Tell him that.”

“Rude,” I huff, but the realization that I’m standing in my fake fiancé’s room hits me like a bag of bricks.

I shiver, the cardigan I’d pulled on no longer giving me the warmth it had offered out on the patio.

Or maybe it wasn’t my cardigan that offered that warmth.

Maybe it was Briggs’ arm and the heat of his big body next to mine.

“Cold?”

I lift my shoulders in a shrug. “I’m just tired.”

I don’t give Briggs a chance to say anything else as I grab a nighty from one of the drawers Briggs had given me, slipping into the bathroom and closing the door behind me.

I brush my teeth and splash water on my face before I stand in front of the mirror, trying my best to gather the courage I need to re-enter the room with Briggs.

“You can do this,” I tell my image in the mirror as I straighten my shoulders. It only accentuates my breasts and I let my shoulders fall again as I curse under my breath.

Then, big girl panties firmly in place, I strut my ass to the door and swing it open to find a big bare chest right there.

“Oh, sorry.” Briggs side steps. “I was just about to ask if you were okay.”

“I’m fine.” My voice doesn’t sound fine. The weight of Briggs’ eyes on me tells me he heard it too. The not fine bit in the rattle of my words, that is.

Thankfully, he doesn’t mention it.

I hurry from the awkwardness of the run-in with the man to the bed. Seeing the sheets turned down does nothing to ease the flip-flopping of my heart in my chest.

This is ridiculous. I shouldn’t be this worked up over sharing a room with a man. It’s not like I haven’t shared a room with a man before.

Geez, I’m being silly. Utterly absurd.

I slide between the sheets and force myself to snuggle down in the bed.

I can’t deny that it’s a really nice bed.

The sheets are softer than any I’ve ever slept in, and the mattress is like a cloud.

I decide the way to know if someone truly has money is by the feeling of their bed.

Because this bed is nothing to sneeze at and these sheets are sublime, perfection, transcending…

I’m still working on synonyms for Briggs’ sheets when he appears in the bathroom doorway. He flicks off the light, but the moon that spills in through the open window ignites every line of his muscled chest. And my eyes feast on all those inches as he moves.

I shiver again, holding my breath as he rounds to the other side of the bed. There’s a rustle and I wait for the weight of his big body to dip into the mattress—but it never comes.

Something thuds on the ground, and I sit upright to see the man has dropped his pillow to the floor and is spreading out a thin blanket.

“You’re joking.”

His eyes snap to me. I can’t see them in the dark, but I can feel them. “I told you I would sleep on the floor.”

“That’s ridiculous.” I pat the bed next to me, ignoring the haphazard way my heart strums an unsteady rhythm in my chest. “The bed is plenty big enough for both of us.”

“I’m good.”

“Briggs,” his name is a tumbled sigh. He freezes at the sound. “Please.”

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, Lilah.”

“I’m not uncomfortable with you.” The words are the truth. I say again, “Please.”

Briggs stands still for only a moment before he bends, swipes the pillow from the floor and moves back to the bed. My heart is so loud, I can hear it between my ears like thunder. I wonder, a little unnerved, if he can hear it, too.

He places the pillow back onto the bed. “Are you sure?”

I nod, then force, “Yes.”

He tosses the extra blanket onto the foot of the bed, then he pulls back the sheets and slides into the bed beside me.

I fall back against my pillow, nearly choking on the heart that tries to climb up my throat. After a few minutes pass, Briggs says calmly, “Relax, little lunatic. I’m not going to touch you.”

My body is singing with nerves—and yet his words disappoint me far more than they should. “I know.”

“Go to sleep.” Briggs settles on his back. One hand is tucked behind his head, the other resting easily on his belly.

I curl onto my side, facing him. I can’t sleep, even though I give it a really good effort for a solid five minutes. I break the silence when it feels too loud. “Your mom still wears her wedding rings.”

He tilts his head to the side. “Yeah.”

“She loved him a lot, didn’t she? Your stepdad, I mean.”

“She did.” There’s a frog in his throat. Emotion I’m sure he’d much prefer I didn’t hear.

I push anyway. “Why didn’t she ever remarry?”

“I don’t think she ever will.” He looks back to the ceiling. “She likes to tell me that she had enough love for one lifetime with him. That anything else is greedy.”

“That’s not true. Wanting love is never greedy.”

Briggs’ chuckle is dry. “Were you serious earlier?”

“About what?”

Briggs shifts to his side, propping himself up on an elbow. The shift is intense, because he suddenly feels far bigger than he had simply laying on his back next to me. He feels imposing in the best kind of way. I can’t deny that I sort of want him to impose more.

His words echo in my mind, “I won’t touch you.”

“Wanting three or four kids.”

I laugh, but it’s nervous. “Yeah. I was serious.”

“Wow.” His brows jump with the shock of my response. “That’s a lot.”

“Too much?” I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until he shakes his head.

“No. Not too much.” His eyes fall to my lips when I smile and my heart kicks in my chest.

I ask breathlessly, “Do you want kids?”

“Yeah.”

“How many?”

“I always figured I’d have two. Eventually.”

“Four is only two more.”

His brows shoot upward, and his laugh is tinged with incredulity. “For a woman who likes her sleep as much as you, I’m surprised.”

“I’m up every morning bright and early.”

“And you’re in bed bright and early, too,” he teases.

“It’s summer. The sun takes an age to set.” I huff my defense, but I can feel a sting of red in my cheeks. More, though, I can’t deny the ache in my core. He’s so close, I can smell him. Leather and cologne and earth.

There’s a pause where nothing but our shallow breathing and Senior’s light snores fill the space. Briggs asks, “What else do you want, Lilah?”

Gosh, is it normal to feel so breathless in bed with a man you’re not sleeping with? It can’t be. I’m losing my marbles.

I clear my throat. “You mean from life?”

Briggs nods once. “Yeah.”

“I want to be happy.”

“Doesn’t everybody?”

“I imagine.”

He shifts just a little closer. Still, it’s close enough to have my flipping heart forget more than one beat. His voice pitches low. “Now, tell me the long answer.”

“My mom and dad are real. They’re silly and a little weird, but every part of them is real.

It’s not for the show, for the things other people see.

They don’t care about that. Dad kisses Mom when he feels the urge, not because he should.

Not because she expects it. Mom takes care of Dad because she likes to take care of him, not because he needs it.

Even though he does.” I laugh lightly. “Even after all these years together, they’re happy.

They’re in love. They’re excited about the life they’ve lived and the life they will live.

They dream together every day. They wish on stars and dream about growing old. ”

I don’t think his eyes have left my face. Not even once.

I continue, “I want that. I want to be with someone who loves me so much that they can’t wait to dream with me over coffee every morning.

Someone who kisses me because they want to, need to.

Someone who laughs with me and wishes on stars with me.

Someone I can grow with and grow old with.

I want to vow my life to someone who will cherish me for all of his.

I want to have his babies, and I want to love them with all that I have inside of me.

I want to watch them grow and then I want to watch them soar.

I want to hold hands in the silence and share words with only our eyes. ”

I pause, and whisper, “I want to fall madly in love. So in love with someone that I’ll only ever wear his rings for the rest of my life.

And I want to be that for him. I want to be his whole world, because when I give that man my heart, he’ll be my whole world.

” A shaky smile curls my lips. “Long enough answer for you?”

“No.” There’s a croak in the thick of that one word. “I could listen to you dream all night long, and it wouldn’t be long enough.”

Speechless. I’m robbed of words.

My heart is too busy fighting the full-scale invasion of this man to give any thought to the wild beating or the breaths that rush from my lungs.

Briggs settles on his back again. To the ceiling he says, “Sweet dreams, little lunatic.”