Page 6 of The Marriage Mistake

Heart thudding, I glared at him. “Let’s just get this over with,” I grumbled, and let him tug me toward the plant-filled space.

Etta Mars sat at a small table, sipping coffee from a fine china cup. She wore a pale blue twinset and pearl earrings, her hair a shock of perfectly styled white. She set the cup down on its saucer with a delicate clink and shifted her body to face us. A wrinkled, graceful hand swept up to indicate the wicker chairs across from hers.

Jack did not let go of my hand. Not as we shuffled toward the table. Not as we sat. Not even when his grandmother watched, eyes sharp and all-seeing.

No. Jack tightened his hold on my fingers and then brought our clasped hands up to his mouth. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of my hand, his eyes full of laughter as he glanced at me. His breath ghosted over my skin, his hand big and warm as it clasped mine.

The bastard was enjoying himself. Waiting for me to crack. Expecting me to run.

He didn’t understand me at all.

“I see your first meeting went well,” Etta said, and Jack brought our braided hands down to the arm of his chair. I took the opportunity to stroke the outside of his thumb with mine, relishing the way his forearm tensed beneath mine. Two could play at this game.

“We’ll give it a shot,” Jack said, flashing his grandmother a wide smile. It was a mask. I could see it from a mile away, and I wondered if his grandmother knew his expression was a lie. How much of himself did Jack Mars hide from the world? Who had seen the wolf? Who had caught glimpses of the heart within?

Etta nodded, then poured us each a cup of coffee from the silver carafe on the side of the table. She indicated the cream and sugar, and I extricated my hand from Jack’s warm grasp and tried to pretend my fingers weren’t shaking while I doctored my coffee.

“I’m surprised,” Etta said to her grandson. “You were so sure that you would walk out of that room a single man. What changed?”

Jack sighed, glancing at me, eyes soft as they circled my face. “I met Ember. That’s what changed.”

It took all my self-control to resist the urge to roll my eyes. He was laying it on a little thick. I shifted in my seat, feeling the gaze of the raptor in the pearl earrings fall on me.

“Last time, my grandson Gideon married his bride at first sight,” she told me. “Jack refused to do that. So this is uncharted territory. We’ll have to plan a wedding⁠—”

“No need,” Jack interrupted. “Let’s sign the paperwork now.”

Etta Mars’s eyebrows climbed up. She looked at me. “You don’t want a wedding?”

“It’s an unconventional arrangement,” I answered, my voice scratchy. I cleared it and continued: “I’d rather keep things simple until we get to know each other. Maybe we can have a more lavish ceremony later.”

“Hmm.” Etta took a sip of coffee. Her movements were slow and fluid, and the air in the solarium became heavier. She considered us for a long time, and I resisted the urge to squirm. I had the nonsensical thought that she could read my mind and knew all my secrets. Even the ones I hadn’t admitted to Jack.

Jack shifted in his seat. His voice dropped, and when I heard its sincerity, I turned to look at him. “I don’t want to do a big wedding right now, Grandma. For Darby. If”—he cleared his throat—“if things don’t work out between us, and we’ve made a big deal about it, she’ll be heartbroken. She’s only thirteen.”

A niggle of worry squirmed through my chest. I remembered being a young teen, hoping a new mother would swoop in and save me, hoping my father would finally love me. I didn’t want to break Darby’s heart. I’d never met her, but I wasn’t a monster.

But this was my best shot at securing my inheritance. It was a way for Jack to claim his independence and secure his daughter’s future. One day, Darby would understand. I would just have to keep my distance from her until then. Not get attached.

The clink of fine china brought my attention back to Etta Mars. Rings glinted on her fingers as she spread her hands. “I’ll call the reverend,” she said. “We’ll do it in the chapel.”

Half an hour later, I stood at the altar of the little chapel on Etta Mars’s estate as I waited to be married.

Despite the fact that it was a sham, nerves still fluttered in my belly as I stood before my soon-to-be husband. Jack watched me, faintly amused, while the small, round reverend with a shiny bald head spoke the words of the ceremony.

My hands were nestled in Jack’s much bigger ones, and I struggled to brush off the feeling that this meant something. These vows. These promises. These oft-spoken words of love, commitment, and forever.

My stomach turned into a hard, painful ball.

“Jack Mars,” the reverend said, his voice booming in the nearly empty chapel. “Do you take Ember Knightly to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to love and cherish her, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better and for worse, and forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her, until death do you part?”

Jack smiled at me, eyes sparkling. He squeezed my hands. “I do,” he said, his voice rich and warm. His grandmother watched on in the front pew beside a couple of members of her staff, the only witnesses to our pathetic ceremony. And thank goodness it was pathetic, because even this much pomp and ritual was too much for me. It felt like I was inviting doom into my life. Like the lie was just a bit too big to sit comfortably in my conscience. A mistake that wasn’t worth six hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

It would be worth it. It had to be.

It was my duty to secure my future by any means necessary. I’d done a cost-benefit analysis a thousand different ways, and logic always led me right here, tying my life to someone else’s. Temporarily.

I shifted, my sheer black tights chafing against my legs. I wore a cream cable knit sweater over my favorite burgundy pencil skirt, and even though the chapel was as cold as the autumn air outside, sweat beaded down my spine and under my arms.