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His words and his dark look hurt. But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe I could distance myself from him, and this would all work out for the best for the both of us.
Maybe.
* * *
Back at his place, I showered, changed, and made sure I had everything I needed.
“We’re all packed—everything’s ready to go. Do you have your passport?” James asked.
I nodded. I took a long last look around his apartment, mentally saying goodbye to it. When we got back from our trip, I would be going home.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I mumbled, shrugging. “This is the last time I’m going to be here, is all. I just want to remember it.”
James closed his eyes as if he were trying to ward off a headache.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ll just stop talking.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he said, opening his eyes and coming to me. He grabbed my hands, and I looked at him, a mixture of hope and fear coursing within me. “About last night. I didn’t get a chance to tell you—”
“S’okay,” I said, abruptly pulling back from him and cutting him off again. “Don’t even worry about it.”
His steel-blue eyes flashed with what looked like hurt for a second, but then he put his billionaire all-business face back on. It was like I could see him closing himself off from me. He straightened himself up to his formidable height, his enormous biceps accentuated by the snug fit of his T-shirt. “Let’s just go, Audrey. We’ve got a plane to catch.”
* * *
James and I were silent on the way to Logan and as we went through security. Being next to him and not holding his hand was awkward; the absence of his touch was palpable.
Celia and Robert Preston were in the waiting area, as were Todd and Evie, Jenny and Cole, Evie’s cousins and their husbands, and a crowd of other people who I’d glimpsed at the ceremony last night.
Celia rose up as soon as she saw me. “Audrey, dear, we were worried you weren’t going to make it. What happened to you last night?” she asked. “I would have asked my son at the reception, but he avoided me like the plague, as usual.”
I felt James stiffen next to me. “I wasn’t feeling well, Mrs. Preston. I’m so sorry I had to leave—I missed everything. James said it was extraordinary.” I fake-smiled at Mrs. Preston and decided then and there that I needed to throw everything I had at her this week: James had protected me from my mother, and I needed to protect him from his.
“You’re better this morning?” She looked at us shrewdly, probably noticing that we weren’t holding hands for the first time ever.
I reached over and grabbed James’s hand, squeezing it. “I’m much better, thank you. I’m really looking forward to this trip.”
She smiled at me tightly and went to sit back down. But then stopped herself. “Oh, I meant to ask you—who was that strange woman you were talking to yesterday at the church? She caused quite a stir in the back, I understand.”
The fake smile was still plastered to my face. I hung onto it and James’s hand for dear life. “She was just some woman who wandered in off the street—I didn’t want her interrupting the ceremony. So I helped her out.”
Celia Preston managed to raise one eyebrow slightly, and her gaze shifted to her son. “And you left your brother’s wedding to go help Audrey with this random stranger?”
James shrugged. “I wanted to make sure Audrey didn’t need me. Turns out she didn’t. She handled it all on her own.”
“How impressive. You almost make it sound as if Audrey’s an actual adult.” Celia chuckled meanly and sat back down.
That’s when they called the flight; I exhaled in relief. “Saved by the bell,” James muttered under his breath. Then: “I really hope there’s a fully stocked bar on board.”
* * *
The private plane was impressively luxurious, of course. The chairs were wide and comfortable-looking, with plenty of space to spread out. James quickly said hello to Todd and Evie, and I hugged them both in congratulations. Then he dragged me all the way toward the back of the plane, far away from his parents.
At least we were still holding hands.
Jenny and Cole flopped down across the aisle from us. Cole was wearing enormous sunglasses on top of his head and a polo shirt, his black hair artfully wild and spiky. Jenny was wearing a fedora, a black jumpsuit, and a frown—directed at me.
