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“Thank you, dear, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

We ended the call and I turned to pull my favorite Versace dress out of the wardrobe box I had yet to unpack. “Becca, did you get on with Gloria? This second-wife thing is dicey.”

“Felicia?”

I started. Michael had come home without me realizing. Fortunately, he was still in the living room. It might be a little unnerving for a man to hear his nearly total stranger fiancée chatting up his dead first wife.

“I’m in the closet,” I called out.

He appeared in the doorway, still wearing a suit from being at work. It was sexy as hell. He was sexy as hell. He peeled his jacket off. “Hey. I didn’t realize you weren’t done unpacking.”

“Almost finished.” I tried to be casual but I was dying to ask him more about his marriage. “Being in here makes me think of Becca… how did the two of you meet?” I wasn’t looking at him, but was hanging up dresses.

For a second he didn’t respond. Then he just said, “We met through friends at a party.”

“How long did you date before you got engaged?” That was me, being super casual. Not.

“A couple of months, I don’t remember exactly.”

Michael shifted in behind me, startling me. His hands ran down the length of my arms. He kissed the side of my neck. “Why are you asking me about Becca? Are you feeling jealous?”

“What? Of course not. I’m just curious.” More worried than jealous. What if Isla was right and Michael was just a man who snagged a woman, regardless of who she was?

Though that didn’t really make sense given he’d been single for a decade.

I continued to fuss with the sleeve of a dress and didn’t turn around.

“Becca was a wonderful woman in a lot of ways. But she was also frivolous and demanding.”

I closed my eyes and didn’t respond, feeling emotionally overwhelmed and I wasn’t sure why. Too many changes in a short period of time, that’s what it had to be.

“Our marriage was actually on the rocks when she got sick. I felt guilty about that, you know. It’s probably part of why I didn’t date for the first few years.”

That made me open my eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that. You shouldn’t feel guilty. Neither of you could have predicted she’d get sick.” I turned around. “Do you need a hug?”

The corner of his mouth turned up. “I need a lot of things. But I’ll definitely take a hug.”

I wrapped my arms around him and rested my head on his chest. I gave him a squeeze. I liked the way he felt, strong and muscular. I pulled back and gave him a stern look. “See, that is exactly why I told you we have to be totally honest about our flaws. We don’t have that much time to get to know each other and you need to be really sure you want to move forward with this engagement.”

“I am being totally honest with you. I’m a sexually demanding man who hates mornings.”

That made me laugh. “Who leaves beard hair in the sink after shaving.”

“Exactly. But I can just be a real dick if that would make you feel better.”

I rolled my eyes and dropped my arms. “Absolutely. I’d love that. Now let me get changed so we can take more pictures. Immigration is looking to see that we have a history together.”

“We don’t have a history together.”

“That’s why we’re going to change outfits and take selfies in various places.”

Michael tossed his jacket on the ottoman in the center of the closet. “You’re joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking. Didn’t you read the list? I’m making a scrapbook. I’m dating it back to late September so we’ll have to do some shots outside with just T-shirts.”

He opened his mouth like he was going to tell me I was bonkers, but then he just shook his head and closed it again. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Get out, then, so I can change.”

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