Page 90 of The Marriage Mistake

There was subtext there. He wasn’t flirting, was he? That made no sense. So I just nodded and stared at the lightning, waiting for the boom of distant thunder.

When the thunder had faded, Oren said, “So how’s that working out, really?”

I blinked, shifting my gaze from the angry sky to the billionaire at my side. “What do you mean?”

“I read about Etta Mars’s plan. I’m surprised someone as bright as you would sign up for a scheme like that.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Are you implying that I’m not bright for signing up to an arranged marriage?”

“Marriage of any kind is a risk,” he said.

“True.” Spoken like a man who hoarded his money like a dragon hoarded gold.

His eyes were green like summer grass. “So why’d you do it?”

Obviously I would never tell anyone else about my father’s will. So I shrugged and said, “I was lonely,” and was surprised to realize it was the truth.

What was more surprising was the realization that now that loneliness had vanished. I’d been in town for four weeks, and I felt like I had the beginnings of a community. I had daily rituals with Darby and Jack. I had Sunday lunches to go to. I had Thursday trivia in my calendar. My life was so much richer than it had been before, and I hadn’t actually received any money yet.

Oren looked at me, then leaned in and laughed. “Aren’t we all a little lonely?”

There was something in his eyes…in the way his hand came up to brush the back of my arm…in the tenor of his voice…

It was similar to the way the dark-haired woman had looked at Jack. An invitation.

I was so shocked that I could only stare.

“I wish I’d met you just a few weeks earlier,” Oren admitted in a low voice, his hand sliding over my arm. “You’re a remarkable woman, Ember.”

This was so far beyond the realm of usual interactions for me that I was momentarily glued in place. This tech billionaire…wanted me?

I thought about Jack’s jealousy, and a curl of pleasure twisted in my stomach. He was the only man for me. I smiled at Oren as I put a bit of space between us, then shook my head. “I’m not sure a few weeks would’ve mattered,” I said.

Before he could answer, there was a man’s shout, a crash, and a woman’s ear-piercing shriek. We all turned toward the sound, which was coming from just outside the main party room. A second later, a drenched, ragged-looking man in old jeans and a leather vest came sprinting through Oren Blanchard’s fancy party, tackling men in tuxes and women in glittering jewels left and right.

Spider was here. And he was coming straight for me.

It all happened very quickly. First, I turned and saw the man sprinting in my direction. Then, I did what I always do in a stressful situation, and I froze. Time slowed as his brown eyes lifted to meet mine. His arms pumped as he sprinted through the mansion, black boots leaving mud smudges with every step, his leather vest flapping at his hips. He vaulted up, dirty boot landing on a pristine white chair, and windmilled through the air before landing on a coffee table and darting for the open doors.

Where I stood. Alone. Oren had ducked for cover at some point, so it was just me standing between the criminal and freedom.

Spider—it had to be him—gave me an awful smile and sped up.

Jack yelled my name. “Get out of the way!” He screamed from somewhere inside, the words nearly swallowed by the next peal of thunder.

But something inside me had changed these last few weeks. Maybe it had started the moment I’d decided to claim my share of my father’s will. When I’d stopped letting life take me along its current, and I’d decided to act. Maybe it started when I saw Jack lounging on that armchair in his grandmother’s parlor, looking like a king holding court. Or when I’d held Darby as she cried and felt like I’d made a difference in her life.

Maybe it happened when I’d stood in front of Jack and his brothers and told them what I knew, or when I’d gone with them to confront Cash.

I didn’t want to be a passenger in my own life anymore. I didn’t want to accept scraps and tell myself it was good enough. I didn’t want to chip away at a good, safe career in my good, safe apartment while other people took risks that paid off.

The change felt like a dry twig snapping in the middle of my chest. Crack. A tiny rupture. A gargantuan change.

For once, I didn’t think. I just braced myself, my heels digging in against the stone patio, my knees going soft.

“Out of the way, girlie,” Spider shouted in a raspy voice as he closed the distance between us, then juked left and reached out to push me out of the way.

Acting without thought, I reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking to spin him like he was a human discus. He shouted, but I’d caught him by surprise. He stumbled, head bearing toward the big planters at the side of the patio, but leaned into the turn and did a full three-sixty.