Page 48 of Runaway Bride’s Husband

“Morning,” I said when I reached him. “How did you sleep?”

Those blue eyes lingered on the screen for another beat before they flicked up to mine, but he only gave me a quick glance before his attention was back on the computer. “Morning. Yeah. I slept okay. You?”

Figuring that asking me a question was probably the only invitation I was going to get, I sat down in the seat opposite him and smiled. “It took me a while to fall asleep, but once I did, I was out like a light.”

He hummed a noncommittal sound and didn’t look at me again. I waited for some kind of response or conversation, but there was none. I knew a thing or two about closed-off, emotionally constipated men, and while I hadn’t taken Ryan to be one of them, that was sure what he felt like this morning.

Something had changed overnight. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but the warmth from last night was gone, replaced by a polished, efficient executive who was impossible to read because he didn’t want anyone to be able to do it.

Suddenly, that same guilt I’d felt when I’d gotten Daniel’s messages crept back in. Ryan hadn’t asked for any of this either. He’d been dragged into my disaster by our mothers, essentially becoming my keeper against his will.

“We’re almost there,” he said suddenly, still without looking at me again. “I’ve got meetings all afternoon, but I have an apartment in Chicago where you can settle in while I’m at the office.”

“You have another apartment?” I asked, surprised but not really sure why.

I’d known he commuted between the two cities and that his family still lived there, but for some reason, I hadn’t expected that his time was split to such a degree that he’d actually have a home in both. Finally, he glanced up at me again, a definite guard up when he met my gaze.

“It’s nothing to get excited about,” he said flatly. “I’m rarely there, so it’s just a simple one-bedroom I bought so I’d have someplace of my own to stay when I’m in town.”

“Right,” I said. “Well, I still think it’s pretty cool.”

He shrugged. “I was looking at buying a condo not so long ago, but in the end, I decided it was a waste, so I bought this instead.”

“Oh. Why?”

He didn’t answer the question, his gaze moving back to the screen. “You’re welcome to stay there while I’m working. My meetings run for the next couple days, but once I’m done, we’ll head back to New York.”

I nodded, about to ask if he was okay when he reached across the table and handed me a folded napkin. My fingers closed around it of their own accord. Then I frowned. “What is this?”

Ryan looked out the window to where buildings were beginning to appear in the distance, the landscape changing as we approached the city. In the reflection of the glass, he looked exhausted, so tired that I had no idea if he’d slept at all despite the fact that he’d said he had.

Something had definitely changed between us, though. I wanted to ask what I’d done, whether I’d said something that had pushed him too far, but then he closed his laptop and stood.

“It’s the name of a place that would make a good venue for the wedding if you decide to try again.”

My eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

He inclined his chin toward the napkin I was still clutching like an old lady with her pearls. “That place checks all your boxes.”

“What boxes?”

“Your weird ones,” he said, looking like he wanted to smile but not actually going through with it. “It also has enough acreage for a carnival.”

I stared up into those vibrantly blue but disappointingly guarded eyes. “Are you serious? You actually checked that?”

“I did.” He gathered his things, slid his laptop into its bag, and slung the strap over his shoulder. “It’s a good venue. You’ll like it.”

As soon as the words were out, he gave me a stiff, formal nod and walked away. An oddly hopeful little part of me hoped he’d stop and come back, at least to explain what’d happened between now and last night, but he left the dining car without looking back and disappeared along the corridor.

Once he was gone, I finally glanced down at the napkin, expecting just a name to be scrawled on it, but instead, he’d written down the name along with the location of an estate, the acreage, the number of rooms, the capacity, and a thorough list of wedding amenities that included several outdoor spaces available for the ceremony. There was even a website.

I pulled out my phone and typed in the address, but my head was spinning slightly. I couldn’t believe he’d done this for me, especially when the page loaded and I found myself staring at a castle-like estate on the upper east coast.

My breath stalled in my lungs as I scrolled through the gallery, realizing that Ryan Thayer had found an actual place that existed in this world but looked like it’d been plucked straight out of my dreams. It was absolutely perfect, so beautiful that I almost started crying.

There was ivy climbing the walls of gray stone buildings and moss growing on the paths. Great old trees surrounded the perimeter of the estate, the gardens slightly wild instead of manicured. It was breathtaking, but it got even better when I saw a rolling green field for the carnival and a link in the menu to a historic chapel.

I scrolled through the pages in a state of complete and utter disbelief. The website advertised a private woodland, accommodation, and fire pits in addition to the multitude of different options for indoor and outdoor event spaces. It was everything I’d described. Absolutely everything and more.