The hotel door clicks shut behind you, the heavy lock sliding into place. For the first time all day, it’s just you and Bucky. No handlers. No civilians to fool. No cover to maintain.

You tug the wedding band off your finger, dropping it on the table with a sharp clink.

“Remind me why I agreed to this?” you mutter.

Across the room, James peels out of his jacket, tosses it onto the back of a chair, and glances at you with that infuriating smirk.

“Because nobody else could pull off bein’ my wife.”

You shoot him a glare.

“Oh, please. Nat could’ve done it with her eyes closed. Hell, Steve could’ve done it better.”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as he toes off his boots.

“Don’t tempt me. Steve wouldn’t have lasted a day without givin’ himself away. You? You’re stubborn enough to sell it.”

You cross your arms, leaning against the counter.

“Glad my stubbornness is finally good for something.”

The silence that follows isn’t comfortable—it never is between you two—but it’s charged. It always has been. The way his eyes linger a second too long when you brush past in public. The way your pulse jumps whenever he leans in close, whispering endearments that sound too real when you know they’re not.

Earlier today, at the hotel desk, he slid his arm around your waist and called you sweetheart. You hated the way your heart stuttered. Hated it more when you caught his faint grin afterward.

Now he drops into the armchair, sprawled out like he owns the place.

“Y’know, if you’re gonna glare at me every time I call you ‘darlin’, this is gonna be a long mission.”

“Don’t worry,” you snap. “I’ve been fantasizing about smothering you with a pillow since day one. Mission shouldn’t last long.”

His grin widens—lazy, wolfish, knowing.

“Careful. Keep talkin’ like that and people are gonna think you really are in love with me.”

Your jaw tightens. The ring on the table catches the light between you, gleaming like it knows something you don’t.

This was supposed to be simple: act married, blend in, complete the mission.

But as the silence stretches, broken only by the sound of his slow, deliberate breathing, you realize it’s not just the mission making your pulse race.

And he knows it too.