Free The Pre-Nup by Beth Kendrick Page A

her boot heels clicking on the Saltillo tiles. “You
wanted
to hurt me.”
    Josh studied her face. “And did I? Hurt you?”
    “Aha!” Mara jabbed her index finger toward him. “So you admit it.”
    “We’re not in court, Mara. And we’re supposed to be on the same team. You shouldn’t be trying to win.”
    “Bullshit,” she retorted. “One party always wins when it comes to legal contracts.”
    Josh made himself comfortable on her cushy leather club chair and stretched his long, thin legs out in front of him. “I know you’re still angry. But I’m pretty mad myself.”
    “Well, I guess that leaves us at an impasse,” she replied with a flippancy she didn’t really feel. “And what on earth do you have to be mad about? You’re the one who started this! All I asked for was a bare-bones, cut-and-dried, totally fair pre-nup.”
    “There’s no such thing as a totally fair pre-nup.” He switched on the lamp next to his chair. “You just said so yourself. One party always wins, which by definition means the other party loses.”
    “Well…” She sputtered for a few seconds, then yanked open the fridge and scanned the shelves as if the answer to this dilemma could be found in the crisper. “Perhaps I overstated the case.”
    “No, I think you summed it up perfectly.” Josh waited until she turned toward him, then looked her in the eyes. “I love you. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you. But you have to trust me.”
    Mara slouched over the breakfast bar and braced her hands on the counter. “I do trust you. Or, at least, I did.”
    “Then act like it,” he said softly. “Give me a sign of good faith.”
    “Says the man who insisted on a snarkily worded clause about how much joint property I have to forfeit if I start dallying with the pool boy.”
    “No, I’m the man who didn’t want a pre-nup in the first place,” Josh corrected her.
    “Which I still don’t get. Honestly, what’s the big deal?” She pounded the counter in frustration. “It’s just a minor legal formality.”
    “In case we get divorced.”
    Mara recommenced pacing. “Having a pre-nup does not mean we’re going to get divorced.”
    “It means you’ve thought about it, though. Extensively.”
    She shook her head. “I’ve just seen too many cases where people didn’t bother to communicate about what they wanted and what they deserved until it was too late. And then things get messy, Josh. And vicious. And litigious.”
    “And this is what you’re focusing on while we’re planning our wedding,” Josh said dryly. “Our messy, vicious, litigious divorce.”
    “You know what I think?” she challenged. “This pre-nup isn’t what you’re really upset about.”
    “Uh, yeah, it is.”
    “No, this is about what happened in San Diego. Still. You say you’ve forgiven me, but you haven’t. You say you trust me, but you don’t.”
    “
You
don’t trust
me,
” he countered.
    “How can I?” She leaned back against the cold refrigerator door. “When you want to litigate my loyalty?”
    “You’re right.” He gave a quick nod. “We’ve reached an impasse.”
    Mara was terrified that she knew what he was going to say next, but she didn’t interject. He was going to leave her and she wasn’t going to stop him, because what rational argument could she make in her own defense?
    He took a deep, purposeful breath and she steeled herself for the worst. But then he said, “Let’s scrap the pre-nup, get married like normal people, and just take our chances. What do you say?”
    The nape of her neck beaded with sweat until a veritable tributary river system of perspiration soaked her back.
    He sat up straighter, looking energized. “We don’t need a legal contract to keep us together.”
    “No,” she said slowly. “We don’t.”
    “What? What is that look about?”
    “It’s just…” She laced her fingers together. “Why bother with a marriage license at all, then?”
    His whole body