The guest room at the lake house had one bed.

"One bed?" I hissed as soon as the door clicked shut behind us.

Liam glanced around like he was appraising a hotel suite. "Looks comfortable enough."

"We can't"

"We're supposed to be engaged, Mia. What did you think your family would do, give us bunk beds?" He loosened his tie and tossed his suit jacket onto the chair, completely unfazed.

I paced. "We'll make a pillow wall."

He grinned, unbuttoning his shirt cuffs. "By all means. Build your fortress. Just don't hog the blankets."

I was halfway through my pillow barricade when there was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Liam called before I could stop him.

It was my mother, holding two mugs of tea. Her eyes flicked from the bed to Liam's bare forearms and back to me. "I thought you two could use something warm before bed."

"Thanks, Mom," I said quickly, taking the mugs and forcing a smile.

When she left, Liam sat on the edge of the bed, sipping his tea like he hadn't just been caught in the most suggestive scene possible. "You're overthinking this."

"I'm protecting the plan."

His gaze softened just a flicker, quickly masked by that infuriating smirk. "You really think I'm going to blow our cover?"

"I think you like pushing buttons."

"Only yours."

The tension hung there, thick and electric. I climbed into my half of the bed, turning my back to him, determined to focus on sleep.

I'd almost succeeded when I felt the mattress shift. Liam's voice was low, close. "You talk in your sleep, Cross?"

"No." My voice was muffled by the pillow.

"Good. Wouldn't want you revealing our secrets."

I rolled over to glare at him and that's when it happened.

Too close. Too much heat between us. His hand was braced on the pillow next to my head, his eyes darker in the lamplight. My breath caught, and for a split second, I forgot every rule we'd agreed on.

He looked at my mouth, and I swear he almost ,almost closed the gap.

Then he pulled back, smirking again. "Goodnight, fiancée."

I lay there in the dark long after his breathing evened out, wondering if I was the only one replaying that almost-kiss.

By Sunday afternoon, I was running on caffeine and adrenaline. The family reunion had been a whirlwind of nosy questions, "accidental" matchmaking attempts from relatives who hadn't gotten the memo I was already taken, and one too many rounds of the Newlywed Quiz.

I should have been relieved it was over. Instead, I felt an odd twinge in my chest as I stood on the porch, watching my parents hug Liam like he was already part of the family.

"Don't be a stranger," Mom said, patting his arm. "And we'll see you both at the wedding, of course."

I froze. "The wedding?"

Mom smiled brightly, like she'd just told me the weather was nice. "You two clearly aren't wasting time. Aunt Carol already offered to bake the cake."

I shot Liam a warning glare, but he only smiled politely and promised to "keep them posted."

Once we were back in the car, I turned on him. "Why didn't you correct her?"

He started the engine. "Because you were standing right there, and you didn't either."

"That's because I was too busy choking on my own disbelief!"

He smirked. "Relax, Cross. It's not like we're actually-" He stopped, glancing at me in the rearview mirror with that calculating look I'd learned to dread. "Although..."

My stomach dropped. "No. Absolutely not."

"Hear me out," he said, shifting gears. "Friday's investor dinner is the most important night of my career. My biggest competitor is already whispering about my 'unstable bachelor lifestyle.'"

"Which is none of their business."

"In a perfect world, sure. But the board loves optics. And nothing says stable like a man who's not only engaged, but married."

I blinked at him. "You're suggesting we...?"

"Make it official," he said smoothly. "Just for now. Long enough for me to secure the deal, and for you to get your family completely off your back."

I laughed sharp and humorless. "Do you hear yourself?"

"Yes. And I'm hearing opportunity." His eyes met mine, steady and unreadable. "Think about it. We set terms. We file the paperwork. We play the part for as long as we need, then walk away. Clean break."

I stared at him, torn between outrage and... something else I didn't want to name.

"This is insane," I said finally.

"Maybe. But it solves both our problems." He leaned back, like he already knew I was halfway convinced. "Unless you'd rather explain to your mom why your fake fiancé vanished before the wedding invitations went out."

I groaned, pressing my hands to my face. "I hate that you're making sense."

"Is that a yes?"

"It's a maybe."

He grinned, slow and victorious. "I can work with maybe."

The rest of the drive was quiet, but my mind wasn't. I kept replaying his words, imagining the headlines, the family reactions... and the fact that somewhere along the line, pretending to be Liam Wolfe's fiancée had stopped feeling entirely like an act.