Lucas started talking, his voice wandering along her spine, the same way his hands did when he reached for her at night. He threw around real estate terms and an impressive amount of research. When he was all professional and authoritative about his area of expertise, it pulled at her and bobbled her focus, which wasn’t so sharp right now anyway.
Her brain was too busy arguing with her heart about whether she’d actually been stupid enough to fall for her all-too-real husband.
No question about it. She’d put herself in exactly the position she’d sworn never to be in again—reliant on a man to make her complete and happy. All her internal assurances to the contrary and all the pretending had been lies.
This was where brainless had gotten her: harboring impossible feelings for Lucas.
It hardly mattered if Lucas freed her to jump in and enjoy life alongside him. It hardly mattered if she’d accidentally married a man who understood her and everything she was about. It hardly mattered if she wished her soul had room for a mate and that such fairy tales existed.
They didn’t.
Life didn’t allow for such simplicity. Anything she valued was subject to being taken away, and the tighter she held on, the greater the hurt when it was gone. The only way to stay whole was to beat fate to the punch by getting rid of it first.
She’d married Lucas Wheeler because he wasn’t capable of more than short-term. She could trust him to keep his word and grant her a divorce, the sole outcome she could accept.
They had a deal, not a future.
Midway through an email, Lucas realized it had been four days since he’d spent time with his wife outside of bed. Their time together in bed had been less than leisurely and far from ideal. It was criminal.
He picked up the phone. “Helena. Can you reschedule everything after five today?”
“I can,” she said. “But your five-thirty is with Mr. Moore and it’s the only day this week he can meet. The counteroffer was a mess, remember?”
He remembered. Once upon a time, he would have passed it off to Matthew and dashed for the door. The deficiency created by his brother’s vanishing act multiplied every day, demanding one hundred percent of his energy and motivation, leaving none for Cia.
He missed her. “Reschedule everything else, then. Thanks—you’re the best.”
If he put aside a potential new client’s proposal, skipped lunch and called in a couple of favors, he’d have an infallible amended contract ready to go by five-thirty and a happy Moore out the door by six. Dinner with Cia by seven.
The challenge got his blood pumping. The tightrope grew thinner and the balancing act more delicate, but without his brother to fall back on, new strengths appeared daily.
He was thriving, like Matthew had predicted, because every night Lucas went to bed with the ultimate example of sacrifice and commitment. He and Cia were partners. How could he look in the mirror if he didn’t step up?
He texted Cia with the dinner invitation, and her response put a smile on his face for the rest of the day: It’s a date.
A date with his wife. The wife he secretly contemplated keeping. Forever didn’t fill him with dread or have him looking for the exit. Yet. He’d been nursing the idea in the back of his mind, weighing it out. Testing it for feasibility. Working the angles. If he didn’t file for divorce, he’d have to give up Manzanares because he hadn’t fulfilled his end of the bargain.
There was a lot to consider, especially the effort required to convince Cia to look at their agreement in a different light.
It was time to take the next step and see how difficult Cia would be about staying married. The six months were more than half over, and he had a suspicion it would take a while to bring her around, even with the added incentive of his idea of using the hotel for the shelter.
Moore agreed to the amended contract and walked out the door at five forty-five, giving Lucas plenty of time to cook a spectacular dinner for Cia. The poolside venue beat a restaurant by a country mile, and the summer heat wasn’t unbearable yet.
They sat at the patio table and exchanged light stories about their day as a breeze teased Cia’s hair. He waited until dessert to broach the main topic on his mind. “Have you thought any further about the hotel site?”
Her eyes lit up. “That’s all I’ve thought about. Courtney and I have been redoing the numbers, and she’s excited about it. I’m pretty sure I’m going to buy it. It was a great idea, and I appreciate all the work you put into it.” She hesitated for a beat and met his gaze. “Would it be weird to ask you to be my broker if we’re in the middle of a divorce?”
Perfect segue. “About that. You can’t wait until you get your trust fund to buy. There are other interested parties already. A bank loan is out, I realize, but I can scrape up the money. Would you accept it?”