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Less than an hour later, Roe and I were on our own. We went up the elevator to our suite, and I threw my windbreaker on my bed and kicked off my shoes. Then I went out on the balcony and took a deep breath. Nice view, at least. Rolling hills and mountains, everything covered in rich green.
The sun was dipping lower.
I rested my forearms on the railing and heard Roe come out too.
He came to a stop next to me. “I feel like a spoiled brat for complaining, but…”
I nodded with a dip of my chin, feeling exactly the same way. We were in this gorgeous country halfway around the world—but…we had no time to properly experience it.
“Once we wrap, I want us to sit down with Ortiz,” I said. “Maybe we can do another project like Scandinavia. Miniseries or a special about a new region. Just you and me again.”
“I’d like that.” He turned a bit toward me and rested his cheek in his hand. “Can we talk about the wedding now?”
What wedding? There wasn’t gonna be a damn wedding.
“What’s there to talk about?” I side-eyed him.
He smirked ruefully. “You didn’t even open your invitation, Jake.”
Because it felt fucking unreal. They were squeezing in a lavish shotgun wedding when we were the busiest this year, all because Sandra didn’t wanna get too big for her dress. For the record, they had a mid-October due date for the baby, but you could barely tell she was pregnant.
The planning happened so quickly—though, I could admit, it probably felt that way because I didn’t go anywhere near it. Even so, the date had been set since July, and just a month later, we were approaching the big day too fast. Three weeks to go. We had another few days here, then Poland, then back to LA—for that damn game show—then New York. Then Mexico… And by then, Roe would supposedly be a married man.
Fuck it. I went with honesty for once. “It doesn’t feel like you’re gonna get married,” I said. “You don’t want a bachelor party, you don’t have time for a honeymoon, you didn’t even propose to Sandra properly—”
“We agreed.” He cut in. “I told you. She and I sat down in Seattle and agreed that marriage was the best option.”
“And you honestly believe that,” I stated. “Do you love her?”
“I—I care for her a lot.”
That wasn’t what I asked.
I stared at him. Waiting him out. I didn’t have to spell out the fucking obvious here. In the years I’d known Roe, I’d just…felt he was all but a romantic. He’d been so vocal about his dream of a big family, much like the one he came from. Love, happiness, children.
Roe deflated after a few seconds and turned toward the expansive view again. “I think I can love her,” he said quietly. “I think I will. Genuinely. I just—I have to work through some stuff up here first.” He tapped his temple.
“What stuff?” I asked, getting frustrated.
“Dumb stuff,” he retorted and rolled his eyes. “My brothers always accused me of being a silly dreamer. I guess they were right. I gotta manage my expectations a bit, that’s all.” He paused, making no sense whatsoever. “Did you know my aunt and uncle got married after a month of dating? They couldn’t possibly have known what marriage was about, but they made it work. They raised five boys—took in me and my siblings too—and we’re talking serious relationship goals. You’ve met them. You must’ve seen how my uncle still looks at my aunt.”
I hadn’t, but sure, I’d noticed they clearly loved each other. So what? Did he know how rare that was?
“Sandra and I make sense,” Roe claimed firmly. “We both want a big family, and she accepts that my work will entail a lot of travel.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It was so fucking unlike him. He was supposed to shoot for the stars. I was the settler. I was the one who went along with “this is fine.” Not him. Not my Roe.
I swallowed against the growing unease in my stomach, and I sort of lost my words. What could I say? He’d made up his mind. He was actually going through with this. He was gonna marry a woman I’d written off as soon as we’d been introduced. And now she was becoming a permanent fixture?
As Roe’s wife.
Fuck.
A tightness spread across my chest, and I rubbed at it absently.
This was wrong.
So fucking wrong.
“I need you with me, though, Jake.”
I flicked him a glance, and he inched closer to me. For a moment, I detected uncertainty in his eyes.
“I want you to give her a chance,” he murmured. “For me. Because…” He broke eye contact and wet his bottom lip, and he hesitantly linked his arm with mine. “I guess—until the day I love her like she deserves, your opinion matters more to me, and I don’t wanna get married without your support.”
