Chapter 12

chapter twelve

Grant

"This is a disaster. A literal disaster" are the first words out of Addie's mouth the moment we walk through the front door of the apartment.

I watch as she paces the living room, chewing nervously on her nails, stopping every minute or so to suck in a shaky, uneven breath and run her fingers through her already mussed hair.

Part of me wants to go to her and attempt to calm her down, but the other part thinks that I should give her a second to work through whatever's going through her head. If I didn't already know that her stepdad is a piece of shit, I sure as fuck know now.

He fucked her over in every way that he could, and the hateful shit he just spewed was unacceptable. It's clear from the conversation tonight that Addie's best interest was never a concern to him; all he wanted was to be sure that he secured his future by manipulating and using her.

I'm still shaking with rage. My need to comfort her soon wins out. Closing the distance between us, I reach for her, halting the hole she's currently pacing into the hardwood. Gently, my fingers circle her small wrist to still her, and she gazes up at me.

There's hurt and outrage in her eyes. It's written all over her face, and it makes me want to punch that fucker right in his smug, entitled face.

"Hey," I whisper, lifting my fingers to her chin and grasping it between them. "Fuck him, Addie. He'll never speak to you again if I have anything to do with it. He's a narcissistic asshole who's trying to scare you into submission. And we're not going to let him."

I'm not going to stand back and allow that to happen. I'm not going to let her do this alone. I'm going to support her every step of the way while we figure it out because I know how much Ever After means to her and how important it is for her mom's legacy to live on.

Maybe our marriage isn't real, but how much I care about her is , and I meant what I said when I told her we were in this together.

For better or worse.

"This is such a mess," she whispers defeatedly. "I'm so sorry for dragging you into this. This is exactly what I was worried about, the mess of my life bleeding out onto you."

"Don't apologize. I'm the one who's sorry that you had to deal with that. I should've just broken his nose," I mutter.

"You can't do that. You could break your hand, and those hands are going to be worth lots of money one day."

The corner of my lip tugs into a grin, and I nod. "That's true, but I'm pretty sure it would've been worth it."

"I… I just—god, he's such a jerk," she blurts out angrily. "I'm just so mad and so hurt that he's done all of this… simply for money? So he can sell the bakery and make a buck off of everything my mom worked for? Grant, he manipulated and exploited me my entire life. I'm not sure anything he's ever said to me was the truth. I've spent years suffering by his hand of calculated cruelty. I've had to deal with his lazy, entitled son while I carried the weight of everything around me, and they never cared. They never cared about me; they never loved me like a parent should. I did all of this for my mom because I can't imagine a world where I don't have a piece of her with me. I… Thi—I'm more angry than I've ever been in my entire life."

Her words fly out in a rush of frustration, and I just nod, giving her the space to unload and get it off her chest. This is the closest I've ever seen Addie to pissed, and I'm not going to lie, I'm happy as fuck she's letting all of it out.

I can't imagine what she's really feeling right now, and I want her to direct that anger toward the asshole who deserves it.

"He can't do this. I… I won't let him do this."

"No you won't, ArtGirl," I respond.

"I won't ."

I love the conviction in her tone. I'm proud as fuck hearing it and seeing her lift her chin higher, squaring her shoulders as if the more she says it, the harder she feels it, the more she'll convince herself.

My lip twitches. "Nope."

"I know I keep saying it, but I'm so sorry, Grant. About all of this. This isn't what you… agreed to. And now we're married, and all of this drama with Brent, it makes it all even worse." She pauses before pulling her lip between her teeth anxiously. "The only way to secure the bakery is to prove that our marriage is legitimate, or this will have all been for nothing. He's going to do whatever he can to try and disprove our marriage. He threatened us, Grant."

I nod. "I know. Take a breath for me. It's going to be okay. I'm here."

She follows my directions and inhales shakily while nodding and continuing the motion, in and out.

"I can't believe… that I'm even going to ask you to do this for me after you've already done so much. Would you be willing to pretend that we're really married? Because that's the only solution, right? To convince everyone, publicly, that our marriage is legitimate and give Brent no ammunition or cause to contest the will? I know that's not what you signed up for, and I'm so sorry."

My shoulder dips slightly. "Okay, so we're going to have to show everyone that it's real. So what? We can handle that. We just need a plan."

Addie doesn't look any less worried, her blue eyes flicking back and forth between my eyes nervously, so I keep going, trying to reassure her that it's going to be okay. I mean, fuck, we just got married —if the only thing we have to do is pretend that it's real in public in order to prevent Brent from taking the bakery, then we do it.

"He's not ever going to prove that our marriage isn't real, ArtGirl. Because we're going to show him that it is. If he's looking for a way to prevent you from getting your inheritance, then we're going to have to convince everyone that this is legit for it to work. We don't give him a single opportunity to disprove anything. What better way to convince everyone than to be the sappiest, head over heels, crazy about each other couple they've ever seen?"

I can't imagine I'm going to have to try very hard to act like Addie's my wife. To pretend that we're a real couple.

When she nods hesitantly, I step closer and lift my hand to cradle her jaw, leaning in until my lips are a centimeter from hers. So close I can feel the warm fan of her breath as it hitches, ghosting along my mouth. Her eyes widen, and my lip tilts in a smirk.

"But… I think in order to do that, we're going to have to practice being a couple in private first so you're comfortable in public. There can be no room for doubt, so we practice until you're comfortable with PDA. With me touching you. Holding your hand, putting my arm around your shoulders when we're around other people." My fingers trace her jaw lightly as I continue. "Your cheeks turn this fucking adorable shade of pink when I give you a compliment. And as cute as it is, it's clear you're nervous anytime I touch you. The only way we're going to pull this off is if we practice until we seem natural as a real couple."

Her throat works as she swallows and peers up at me with those wide, endless blue eyes that flicker with curiosity. "Are you… Are you going to be okay with that? Doing that in public? With me?"

I chuckle when she scrunches her nose and pulls back slightly. "Yeah, it's not a problem for me. Are you going to be okay with this?"

"Um… yes? I mean, I think that I probably won't be very good at it," she murmurs timidly as she drops her gaze to the floor and fingers the ends of her hair. "It's not like I have very much, um, to go on."

My brow pinches. "Holding hands? Kissing?"

I've picked up on the fact that she's nervous around me and really shy, but this is not a conversation we've had. Her experience with things.

"Today was my… first kiss."

Holy fuck. My heart drops to my ass, and my throat runs dry.

I was her first kiss?

I shouldn't like that so fucking much, but I do.

"Ever?"

"Ever," she whispers before swallowing roughly. "I mean, unless you count in the second grade when Grady Owens kissed me against the monkey bars, but I am not sure that it does. Count, I mean."

A laugh slips from the back of my throat, and I shake my head. "No, I don't think it does, ArtGirl. So, we… start at the basics? Work our way up until you're the one initiating the PDA."

Her expression sobers, and she blows out a shaky breath. "Could you… teach me? What to do? So we can convince everyone?"

A heavy pause passes between us, and I lick my lips. I'm finding it hard to even process thoughts right now, knowing I'm the only one who's ever kissed… my wife. And that now the dynamic is changing, and I don't hate the way it's going.

"Well, married people kiss. A lot," I say gruffly, suddenly aware of how close her lips are to mine and how fucking much I wish I could taste them again. Her warm breath cascades along my lips, something I know I could find myself becoming addicted to if I'm not careful.

"So, we should… practice that?"

Smirking, I nod, my gaze lingering on hers. "Definitely. We should probably practice a lot. You know, just to make sure we get it right. So much practicing. Actually, all the practicing."

The rational part of me says how bad of an idea this is, barreling past lines that will too easily become blurred, but I'm not paying attention.

I'm too caught up in Addie. Later, I'll deal with my rational side, but for now, I'm going to be delusional and pretend that we're not getting ourselves into something we might not be able to come back from.

"That's the plan. We aren't letting this fucker win. We'll be the most convincing couple anyone's ever seen. They'll be sick of us by the time we're done showing them how real we are." My fingers gently trace her jaw, and I smirk. "Let's do this, wifey ."