“I’m an idiot.” I lifted my head and smacked my forehead against his shoulder. “You probably want to divorce me already.”
He went still, arms dropping. Then he crouched down, both hands gripping my shoulders. “Divorce isn’t in my vocabulary. You got me?” The way he said it wasn’t a censure. It was a promise. A promise that no matter how crazy I acted, no matter how many times I treated Target like a maze he needed to solve, he wasn’t going anywhere.
“I don’t deserve you,” I said.
“Ditto.” He squeezed my shoulders.
I didn’t even know love like this existed. At least for me. Up to that point, when things got too hard, people either disappeared or tried to get rid of me as fast as possible. Like Iwas stuck in a cruel, never-ending game of hot potato. AndIwas the potato.
“You know what I think we need?” he asked.
“What?”
“To go on this cruise and not worry about telling anyone until we get back. Just you and me, the sand between our toes, sunset walks, falling asleep to the ocean in the background. Completely incognito. How does that sound?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, overcome with relief. “Oh my gosh, yes, please.”
He rubbed his hands together. “Let’s do it.” He glanced left, then right, with theatrical suspicion. Then he crouched low and flattened himself against the Dawn dish soap, like he was evading hidden motion sensors. He whipped his head to the right, peering around the corner, Jack Steele style. His Uncle Ford would be so proud. “Bloody fantastic,” he hissed with an impressive British accent. “This store is crawling with civilians.”
I giggled. “Right?” I peered around the corner, my cheek smashed against his. Seriously—it had to be the busiest Target in the world.
He pulled the truck keys from his pocket and passed them to me with the gravitas of a man handing over nuclear launch codes. “I’ll take care of the payment,” he said, voice low, still in character. “Can you exfiltrate to the truck without triggering surveillance? Or do you need me to improvise a distraction?”
“Copy that, Agent Dupree. Solo extraction in progress, meet me at the rendezvous point.” I slapped him on the butt. He startled, then laughed. “I’ll be waiting,” I murmured before catching the lobe of his ear between my teeth and giving it a gentle tug.
“Woman,” he moaned.
“Hurry,” I purred. Then I pirouetted away, disappearing in the opposite direction.
I grabbed a journal from the stationery section and held it up, pretending it was a juicy novel, and made my way to the front of the store. Right before I reached the exit doors, I dropped the journal onto a bench. Then I jetted through the sliding doors out into the sunshine, fighting back a smile.
When the truck came into view, I thrust my fists in the air.
Being married to Griffin was going to be so. Much. Fun.
Chapter Twelve
JULIETTE
The cruise with Griffin was the best week of my life.
We fit so much into those seven days—walks on the beach, feeding each other tacos, swimming in cenotes, learning to surf, and hiking to the ruins in Playa Del Carmen. Every evening, we headed back to the ship blissfully exhausted and fell asleep staring into each other’s eyes, so happy and in love.
When we landed in Vegas, our noses were burnt, our bellies full, and our hearts overflowing. We exited the plane, grabbed our bags, and headed to Phoenix, not even swinging by my apartment to pick up my things. I’d told him—insisted, really—that I’d get my things the next time I was in town. The fact that he had to fly to California in the morning—because half of Yosemite was on fire—worked in my favor. There was only one thing I wanted from my penthouse, and I could have Fallon mail that. With Griffin gone for a while, I could replace my belongings, and he’d never know the difference.
We walked into his apartment, and I fought back a laugh. Yeah… a guy definitely lived here. No pictures, bare white walls, not a single personal touch. I’d have to fix that.
He dropped our bags just inside the door and pulled me into his arms. “Welcome home, Jules.”
No one had ever said those words to me before. Not once in my entire life.
“Thank you,” I said in a fierce hush. “I’m so happy to be here.” I pressed a kiss to his lips.
“You’re welcome, and I’m so happy you’re here too. Now,” he said, his expression turning serious. “Are you ready to tell my parents they have a new daughter-in-law?”
I was.
Until my brain hissed,You need to tell him the truth first.
