The Marriage Sham: A Lover's Landing Novella by Marika Ray

Author:Marika Ray [Ray, Marika]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-02-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Frances

Savannah, Georgia

My stomach has graduated from butterflies to fully grown bats flying around and disrupting things internally. The car ride to Savannah has been pleasant, conversation flowing easily between Fen and me. I’m not sure whether to be disappointed or relieved everything we talk about stays fairly surface level. We don’t delve into the deeper subjects, which suits me fine when I’m remembering this whole marriage thing is fake. But then a little voice in my head pipes up about feelings and connection. And then my heart starts pumping, listening to her drivel, and then the bats start flying.

He ties me in knots, and all I want to do is enjoy this weekend. No, scratch that. I just want to get through this weekend so we have the picture evidence to show Granddaddy should he start asking again. But then my mind drifts to the way Fen looks in his dark wash jeans and button down shirt. The ones he’s wearing currently. The ones that hug his muscles and take him from boy-next-door good looking to GQ model good looking. I don’t know where he’s been hiding those clothes, but he should wear them often. Like, every day.

I’m a mess, what can I say?

Fen pulls his truck up to a gorgeous bed and breakfast, the front a charming brick building with black wrought iron handrails that lead you up to the reception desk. Fen is standing still right behind me with our two small bags. As for me, I turn in a circle, taking in the lush accommodations where we’ll spend our weekend, amazed that he booked something so beautiful. This place had to cost a small fortune.

“Fen…” I’m at a loss for words. I’m flattered, I’m annoyed, I’m worried for his bank account.

“Let’s just enjoy the weekend, okay?” He ushers me over to the front desk to grab our keys, apparently not up for a debate on the appropriateness of us staying here. Considering I did nothing to help with the planning of this weekend, I don’t really feel like I should make a stink about it. Besides, no one has ever gone to this much trouble for me, so why should I refuse it? The feminine side of me wants to lap it up and savor it.

I’m busy checking out every antique and piece of artwork on our way up the stairs to the second floor. There are decades, perhaps even centuries, of history here. Fen swings open a dark wood door and steps back to let me enter our room before him. My wedges are sinking into a thick elaborate rug, my nose is smelling the unique scent of old wood and fine fabrics, my eyes are taking in the brick wall surrounding the most beautiful white mantle fireplace you’ve ever seen. My senses are on overdrive, which is why it takes me several minutes to realize there’s only one bed in the room.

Spinning around, I see Fen eyeing the bed also, though he doesn’t look shocked like me.

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