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Brianna walked away, leaving Morgan and Mike alone again.
“Sorry about that,” he said, shuffling up to her.
“It’s okay.” He held his hand out, which still had the ring on it, and she slid hers into it after a moment’
s hesitation. “What did you tell her?”
“That we knew each other.” He shrugged. “I didn’t want her to know about the marriage thing yet. I mean, who knows what’s going to happen, right?”
Nothing. Nothing was going to happen. Because she didn’t want to be married, and neither did he. Morgan nodded. “Okay. Sounds good.”
She pulled free of his grip and closed her fingers around her cool band, but he rested his palm on her knuckles. “Whoa. What are you doing?”
“If you don’t want people to know, then I should take this off.” She glanced down at his ring. “This is going to fail, so there’s no point in us wearing them. Or telling anyone. I agree with you, for once.”
He clenched his jaw. “Why are you so certain it’ll fail?”
“I might not know you that well but I know me. I don’t want to be tied down. I want to be free.” Speaking of which…she pulled free of his grip. “What if I get the role in Chicago? Will my loving husband just sit back and let me go, not giving a damn that I’m halfway across the country without him?”
He paused, as if considering the situation. “Sure. Why not?”
“Because in my experience, that doesn’t happen. In my experience, men want the woman to give up all of her dreams and become a pretty, barefoot and pregnant housewife who cooks while wearing red heels and a checkered apron.”
“Heels and an apron, you say?” He rubbed his jaw. “I could definitely work with that, as long as that’s the only thing you’ll be wearing in our kitchen. You don’t even have to cook. Just stand there.”
She smacked her palm against her forehead. “Oh my God. This is why I didn’t want to get married.”
“Because I want to see you practically naked in heels?” He cocked his head and stared at her feet. “Scratch that. Just keep the boots on.”
“Not happening.”
“Fine, you can wear heels.” He let out a dramatic sigh. “Look at us. Compromising already. This marriage stuff is easy.”
She choked on a laugh but slapped his arm as she passed him. “God, you’re so annoying.”
“Hey, wait for your hubby.” He caught up with her easily. “What? Can you blame me for wanting the boots? You look hot in them and an apron, even in my head. Tell me you’re not picturing it right now.”
She wasn’t picturing that at all. No, she was picturing the look on his face if she greeted him dressed in that. And what he would do after he found her dressed the way he wanted. Shaking her head to clear it, she narrowed her eyes at him. “It’ll never happen.”
“We’ll see about that.” When she headed for the doors that led outside, he stopped walking and pointed at the elevator. “We’re in the honeymoon suite, remember?”
She hesitated. No, she hadn’t remembered. “Well, I’ll still need clothes. And toiletries.”
“Then I guess we’ll have to go get them.” He held the door open for her. “After you, wife.”
She pushed through the door to the sidewalk. It might be after two in the morning, but Vegas was still in full swing. A drunk couple talking about gambling stumbled past them and an old, completely sober couple holding hands walked the other way. How cute. Could that be her and Mike if they waited this thing out?
She headed for a parked cab, ignoring Mike’s outstretched hand. “Don’t you need some stuff, too?”
“No.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I got my shit earlier while you were working. I also took off work, you know, to enjoy the honeymoon.”
How cocksure could he be? He’d had no idea what her answer would have been. She was so indignant about his arrogance that she forgot to ask him what he did for a living. “And what if I said no to you?”
He shrugged. “I’d have been fine up there alone if you refused me.”
Yeah, but she doubted he would be alone. A guy like Mike didn’t have to try hard to get a woman interested in him. Or to get them to marry him, for the love of God. The only reason he was trying so hard for her was probably because she didn’t want him.
Or…didn’t want to want him, anyway.
