Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

W arrick

Em looked so lost I wanted to scoop her back up in my arms and take her to bed. And not to her bed in the guest room. To my bed.

Fuck . I scrubbed a hand over my face as her hands dropped from my shoulders. Things had gotten confusing. Fast. Half the time Emmerleigh Slaywright made me want to punch a hole in the drywall just to make her fix it with a scowl on her face, and the other half of the time, I wanted to make this marriage real. Forever. The three of us as a family. Not some fake arrangement to help her out with this court case. I'd never felt so useful and so at peace than I had here in Blueball with Em and Georgia.

Didn't help that this pint-sized general contractor of mine was sitting on the couch wearing a dress with my gold wedding band on her finger. A flirty little sundress in pale pink that highlighted her lightly tanned skin and long blonde hair. Her eyes were as big as saucers, realizing she'd hugged me of her own volition .

I owed Paisley a huge thank-you for getting Em to open up about her past. Bottling up all the hurt and anger from five years ago was clearly turning this tiny woman into a strung-tight, stressed-out, lonely woman. Turned out all I had to do was get her sauced on lemon drops and she'd be so free with her emotions she'd voluntarily hug me. The least I could do was show her vulnerability in return. Thankfully, I had no issue with exposing my underbelly.

"I know what it's like to be hurt by people you trust. I can't tell you the number of women I've dated who've sworn they loved me and then when the gifts quit coming, they dumped me to find someone else with deeper pockets. I like spoiling the people around me, but I tend to get taken advantage of." I waved a hand between us when Em gave me a skeptical look. "I know. Boo-hoo, the poor millionaire complaining about something. But if you could spend a day in my shoes, realizing I can't trust anyone but my immediate family to not use me as a cash cow, then you'll see that we aren't that different."

Em shook her head. "I would never be seen in snakeskin boots."

My lips wobbled. "Did you just crack a joke in the middle of a serious conversation?"

Em's eyebrows, uncharacteristically smooth and unmarred by a frown, lifted. "Maybe…"

The woman was so unfamiliar with flirting, she wasn't sure she was even doing it. That made me smile. "I like that sense of humor you keep buried under your loud bark."

Her mouth dropped open. "Are you calling me a dog?"

My hand landed on her knee, a natural thing for me to do when speaking to someone, but we both froze. Our gazes dropped to where my hand covered her knee completely. I could feel the heat of her beneath me, the silky soft satin of her skin where her dress didn't cover. My thumb danced across her knee, desperate to feel more of her. I heard Em inhale softly.

I lifted my head, trying to get the conversation back on track, despite how badly I wanted to slip my fingers under the hem of that dress and explore her strong legs. I bet her skin was even softer on the inner flesh of her thighs.

"I appreciate you trusting me with Georgia. You were right yesterday. She does give me purpose. Gives me someone to shower my gifts upon, knowing she's not taking advantage of me."

Em finally looked at me again, the line between her eyebrows back. "Why didn't you get married? Have kids? You're so good with her."

I smiled through the twinge of pain that hit my chest, knowing that role in life had passed me by. "Remember the taking-advantage-of-me thing? I wasn't lying. I couldn't find one woman who would want to be by my side if all the money dried up. That was my only criteria, but I just never found her."

Em snorted. Loudly. "That's ridiculous! What kind of women were you dating?"

I bit back a genuine smile at her outrage. "All kinds. Friends of friends. Women I met through my business."

"Models?" she asked with venom in her voice.

I shrugged. "A few of those. But I also dated baristas and teachers and even the woman who altered my suits. I just never found the right one, I guess. Always thought I'd get married and have kids. Retire early so I could be fully present in their teenage lives. Just never happened."

My gaze had slid away, studying the fireplace where Mom kept endless framed photos of us boys from over the years. Clearly, I'd truly hit my midlife crisis if I felt like I was about to blubber over not having framed photos of my own kids. Em's hand landed softly on top of mine, squeezing tight. My gaze flew back to her.

"I think we should get a divorce," she said quietly.

I flipped my hand over and gripped hers, needing to feel the solid metal of the band around her finger. "What? Why?" Alarm had all those sad feelings fleeing in a second .

Em shook her head, layers of light hair dancing around her shoulders. "I refuse to be one of those women who take advantage of you. We have to annul the marriage. Immediately."

"No."

She blinked. "Yes."

"Fuck no. I wanted to help you. I had to practically strongarm you and pin you to the ground to get you to marry me in the first place. No take-backsies."

Em huffed, but I squeezed her hand tighter.

"Let me do this. I love that little girl and I know she's better off with you. I had no plans to marry anyway and it was my idea. That's not taking advantage of someone. That's playing smart."

I could see the fight go out of Em. Her spine relaxed and her shoulders came away from her ears. "Okay. As long as you're sure."

"I'm sure," I said instantly.

"But…" She trailed off, giving me a hesitant look. "Even though we're legally married, you can't take over my life. You can't just jump in and save the day all the time. Calling around for subcontractors? That crosses a line and makes me incredibly uncomfortable."

Now I was frowning. "I never meant to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted to help."

She squeezed my fingers, laying her other hand on top. "I know that now. You feel the need to help people and it's a beautiful thing. But running my business independently is something I need. I can't give a man full control of my personal life and my business. Not ever again."

My teeth worried my bottom lip. Fuck, she had a point. As much as I wanted to take over and make sure she never lifted a finger again, I also needed to respect her wishes.

"What if we strike up a compromise?"

She lifted a single eyebrow. "Warrick Wolfe knows how to compromise?"

"Hardy-har." I stood, pulling her to her feet and making sure she was steady before I let go. "How about this? I jump in and save the day—as you put it—when it comes to our personal life. The house, Georgia, you know, home stuff. But your business is one hundred percent yours and I won't make a suggestion or even hint at making a judgmental face when you make a decision."

Em stared deep into my eyes for a long moment. Then she dipped her head in agreement. "Fine."

"Fine."

We stood there in the tiny lamplight in the corner of the room, just staring at each other. She was almost a foot shorter than me and yet she had the strength of a hundred-year-old oak tree, unbending and fucking majestic while she stood her ground. Not that I'd ever admit to comparing her to an oak tree. She hadn't liked that bark comment.

"I'm looking forward to seeing the nonjudgmental look." She pressed her lips firmly together, like she was trying to keep from smiling.

I inhaled deeply and then waved a hand in front of my face. "It looks like this." I carefully kept my expression blank, but she just burst out laughing. "Hey! You're judging my non-judging face. That's very judgmental of you."

Her hand landed in the middle of my chest as she giggled. Fuck, I didn't know the woman could giggle. It was light and bubbly and so damn happy it made that ache in my chest come back.

"I'm going to bed," she finally managed to say as she turned from me. "You might want to stay up and work on that face."

I watched her walk away, her shapely legs now steady. I almost wished the alcohol was still in her system so I'd have a reason to pick her up and carry her. Just one last chance to inhale her lemony scent. One last chance to have her close to me before she put the hackles back up and fought me at every turn.

"Em," I called out as quietly as I could, not wanting to wake up Georgia .

She turned at the entrance to the hallway. I took her in, the long hair hanging down her back loosely, the sundress highlighting her fit body, the relaxed expression on her face. Emmerleigh was a beautiful woman. Along with being immensely capable and strong. No wonder I had a crush on my contractor-slash-fake-wife.

"You look gorgeous tonight."

Her blue eyes softened. "You look gorgeous every day."

My jaw hit the floor. She smiled saucily and ducked around the corner to disappear down the hallway.

"She loves my snakeskin boots," I said out loud to no one in particular.

Em's muffled laughter trailed down the hallway.

I didn't work on my nonjudgmental expression, but I did lie awake for hours that night, thinking about my wife telling me I looked gorgeous. I'd spent the last three weeks thinking she despised me and now she dropped that bombshell.

All I could think about was our compromise. Emmerleigh had seen nothing yet. I was going to spoil the hell out of her—according to our terms, of course—until she felt for me what I felt for her.

Like she just might be the person I'd spent the first half of my life looking for.