Page 41 of The Marriage Mistake

My words fell like bricks in the middle of the clump of family members, and I was suddenly aware of what I’d just said. What I’d admitted.

We hadn’t slept together, and we were supposed to be head over heels.

And we never would! But they weren’t supposed to know that. We were supposed to be faking it. In love. Or at the very least, in lust.

Flustered, I made a strange growling noise, threw my hands up, and stomped toward the solarium doors. I entered into the damp space, inhaling the scent of greenery and dark soil. I threw myself into a wicker chair and slapped my hands over my face. What a disaster. I sucked at this. I hated this.

This was all because I’d woken up in his arms. So really, it was the storm’s fault. All that stupid rain making me feel like I was in a little bubble with Jack, and my body did things without my permission while I slept, and now I knew what it felt like to wake up in his arms.

I was confused, and overwhelmed, and there were too many fucking people here. I hated people.

The scuff of a shoe made me drop my hands from my face. I glared at Jack as he lingered in the doorway, one hand lifting to ruffle his hair, a vaguely contrite expression on his face. “Hey,” he said.

Shifting in my seat, I straightened, trying to regain my composure. This whole thing was a lot more difficult than I’d anticipated. And Jack looming from a few feet away, looking like he cared how I felt, wasn’t helping.

No. What would help was reminding myself why I was here. Six hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Dear old Dad, rolling in his grave. The chance at a better life.

Not included in that list: the attention of a wildly attractive man. The promise of true love. Sex.

It didn’t matter if Jack was jealous of Oren. I didn’t understand why he would be, and I wouldn’t waste any effort trying to figure it out. What mattered was me keeping my eyes on the prize, which was getting that marriage certificate filed so we could be officially hitched.

Which meant I had to do my part.

I pushed myself to my feet. “I apologize,” I said, dipping my chin in a businesslike nod. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Jack inhaled, eyes searching mine, and said, “Me too.”

I gave him another nod. “Good. We go out there and fake it like our futures depend on it?”

I expected Jack to relax and agree, and for us to walk back in together.

But there was a pause.

A pause where it seemed like he wanted to say something. A pause where his eyes lingered on mine before dropping to my lips. A pause that, incomprehensibly, made my entire body turn tingly and electric.

Finally, in a low voice, he said, “Do you want me to get them to stop? The women who come up to me when we’re together?”

Yes, my brain screamed. But what came out was, “How would you do that?”

His eyes were intent. “I would make it clear that you’re the only one I want.”

“You’ll ruin your chances with them in the future.”

“That won’t keep me up at night.”

It was suddenly hard to breathe. I didn’t understand what was going on. Scrambling for solid ground, I shrugged and said, “It’s fine,” and I knew I sounded grumpy and petulant.

That was probably why Jack’s jaw popped. Why he looked so mad and…disappointed? Then he tore his gaze away from mine and angled his body so we could walk back into the gathering together. I girded myself with a deep inhalation and marched toward him, but I still wasn’t ready for the press of his palm against my lower back. Tension gripped me, and I couldn’t help hiking my shoulders up near my ears.

A second later, his hand dropped from my back, and the distance between our arms increased to the point that I could no longer feel the heat of him along my side.

A long breath slipped out of me, relief cool and welcome.

If there was disappointment lurking in the shadows of my heart, I ignored it.

JACK

Ember was quiet all the way home. I tried and failed to resist the urge to glance at her constantly. I didn’t have the right to reach over and put my hand on her thigh, or grasp her fingers and bring them to my lips.