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“So is that where we’re going? To your apartment?”
“After this blissful North Carolina honeymoon?” He raised his eyebrows.
I inhaled, taking in the room from my vantage point on the floor. “The room is great, but I don’t think six hours at the Magnolia Inn counts as a honeymoon.”
He bit into a Danish. “Why not?”
“Honeymoons are usually vacations, Jer. You know people go to the Bahamas or Mexico, or they do the whole European thing. Sometimes they’re gone for two weeks. It’s more than breakfast on the floor.”
He rubbed the back of his head. “I have to talk to my lawyer. We need to make our marriage public. The sooner we do that, the sooner we have access to the money. I need to be in New York today.”
“Right. Of course.” I didn’t mean to frown. There was a lump in my stomach. It shouldn’t be there twisting with disappointment. What? Did I expect an exotic honeymoon with this marriage? How far off the deep end had I gone? Did sex with Jer make me process information differently?
“You can always take a trip if you want. You can go anywhere. Do anything. I’ll cover it. Have you been to Europe? It’s on me.”
The sour pit in my stomach grew larger. “Thanks.”
It sucked. And it was shitty. But I needed these reminders. This wasn’t a marriage. This was an arrangement. I needed to write it on my hand, or set a daily alarm on my phone—Jeremy wasn’t my boyfriend. He wasn’t my best friend. And even though that piece of paper on the table said we were married, he wasn’t a real husband. He wasn’t going to be protective or jealous. He didn’t need me. He didn’t love me. I was a means to an end. A voluntary ticket to a fortune.
“But maybe you should let me know where you are if you do take a trip.”
I stared at him. “I’m not going to just leave. It seems like the timing would be off, don’t you think?”
“I guess that’s true. Not a very convincing start to our story if you take a vacation on your own.”
“And not to mention the other part.”
“Other part?”
I blushed again.
He laughed. “I know. The baby part. You need to be in my bed every day. Anything less seems like we’d be making a mistake.”
“A mistake?”
“To waste an opportunity to get you pregnant. You need me inside you, every day.” He winked.
“And you need me,” I reminded him. This was a mutually beneficial situation. I wanted him to know I was as important to this puzzle as he was.
I looked at him over my coffee, waiting for his reaction.
His head snapped when we heard a phone ring.
“It’s mine.” He rose from the floor.
I realized I needed to call my parents. Or Frannie. Someone needed to know where I was. They wouldn’t miss me until tomorrow, but my mom would undoubtedly call at some point to see how my shift went last night.
Jeremy walked into the bathroom with the phone and closed the door. I stared as it locked behind him. The thud seemed louder than it was.
I didn’t know who had called him. I didn’t know who was in Jeremy’s life. Was there someone important to him? Was there a woman out there who loved him? Someone who thought one day she would be Mrs. Hartwell?
I wrapped the sheet around my chest as I stood. I could hear his deep voice through the door. I tiptoed closer.
13
Jeremy
“What is it?” I barked into the phone. I didn’t want to be interrupted.
