I inhaled, the air like glass. I’d left like he’d said, and here I was, dangerously close to acting like my dad. “It’s time to go, Autumn.”
I started moving before she did. I slid my arm off her shoulder and snagged her hand. Since I’d caught her off guard, she stumbled when I tugged on her. “Gideon?—”
“It’s time to go.”
“But we haven’t eaten.”
“Take some to go.” I continued pulling her toward the door. A band was squeezing around my chest and the air hurt to breathe. I needed to get out of here. Out of the past. Out of the thoughts of how much I was like the one person I had ever counted on, the one person I had worked so damn hard not to be like. I’d toiled all my adult life to stay away from the place where I’d never measured up.
Autumn yanked on my hold. When I turned to frown at her, I caught the way Tate was scooting around his wife, like he was coming to rescue Autumn. I couldn’t keep towing my wife and fighting her and then end up arguing with her family. That wouldn’t work.
I pulled her into me and dropped my mouth to her ear. Her body was rigid and her eyes were full of concern, but also annoyance.
I wasn’t used to irritation from women.
“I need to leave. We can either bicker with your siblings or make up an excuse. I don’t care. I have to leave.”
She searched my expression. Whatever she saw made her relent, but only slightly.
Tate approached us. “Everything okay, Autumn?”
I shot him a glare. I’d make sure Autumn was fucking fine.
“It seems like lunch didn’t agree with Gideon. Stomach cramps,” she whispered loudly.
I’d forgive her for tossing my guts under the bus. I wasn’t behaving like a gentleman.
“The house has a toilet.” Tate’s bluntness wasn’t helpful.
“No telling how long it’ll last or if it’s infectious. We wouldn’t want to spread it.” She patted my forearm. “Hopefully I didn’t pass anything on to him. Lord knows I have a stomach of steel after all my years of teaching. Poor guy. It’s going to hit him hard.”
She was using diarrhea as our reason for leaving—nonexistent diarrhea—and I was admiring her for it.
Tate’s mouth twitched like he knew exactly what his sister was up to. “We’ll send you home with some food.” He twisted. “Chance, give me a hand.”
Autumn
Gideon didn’t talk all the way home. He gave me the keys, and I assumed it was to make it look like he really wasn’t feeling well. But the whole trip, he was on his phone, clicking away.
When he’d first dragged me off, he’d looked green around the gills. Like he’d seen a ghost right after eating bad shrimp. Meanwhile, my stomach had been rumbling up a storm.
My sisters and Scarlett had packed us a ton of food, and Chance had helped them carry it out. Mama had watched the show, but she’d been looking Gideon’s way, her brow furrowed. She must be concerned about him.
I had been too.
Now, I was a little irritated. We’d been home for an hour. He’d ignored the food and was set up at the table on his laptop. He’d called it early on the gathering that was to celebrate us and now he was ignoring me.
I was starving. And I was done waiting for him to interact.
I fixed myself a plate, my stomach growling the whole time. It took everything in me not to ask him if he wanted me to do the same for him. Two could play the ignoring game. I heaped on ham, veggies, Wynter’s fruit salad, and the macaroni salad that I was sure Teller had bought from the grocery store and put into a bowl. I even took all of Mama’s cookie salad.
Not once did Gideon glance up. He didn’t initiate a conversation. He didn’t treat me like I’d want to be treated as a realorfake wife.
I took my food outside and sat on the front stoop. The day was beautiful. A little cool, but I was still wearing the cardigan I had put on over my dress.
The sun was going down, but I chomped down on my food. I needed the crisp, fresh air to chisel away the resentment I was building toward the absurdly gorgeous man in my kitchen. How could he kiss me senseless and then brush me off like I was nothing more than his chauffeur?
Did I want to have his bigheaded, frustrating babies?
