To a man who was simultaneously sweet and dangerous.
Nerves coursed through me as I smoothed my hands over the skirt, my chest going splotchy. But this was definitely the dress. “And can you make any alterations tonight?” I asked.
“We can make it work,” the consultant said. “It doesn’t need much. It’s made for you.”
For the prices in this place, I would have been shocked if they couldn’t make it work. I balked at the numbers and ran it past Jack when I was looking for an appointment. It was the only place with Tuesday availability during Thanksgiving week. When I showed him their website, he just shrugged, dropped a credit card on the kitchen counter, and kissed my cheek. “Spend whatever. Get something that makes you feel pretty.”
I got a chill every time I thought about Jack’s foul mouth saying a nice little word like “pretty.”
Did I feel a little bit like Cinderella actually getting to go to the ball? Yes.
Did I also feel a whole other swirl of emotions heading into a marriage of convenience with a man who had a chance of being just as bad as my ex-husband? Fear? Terror? Hope?
I did.
But I was willing to take the risk if it gave my kids a chance at an easier life than what we faced without Jack. I’d do anything to give them stability, security, and a chance to thrive.
THIRTY
MARA
NOVEMBER
Wednesday night,I was up late doubting every choice I’d made. I was packing up my apartment to move my family in with some hockey player who was Aspen’s best friend’s dad. Granted, he was hot, but what if he had head damage that made him as mean as he feared he was? What if he was worse than Bryce?
I was neurotically packing each kitchen drawer into a separate box, saying goodbye to this place that I once had with Bryce. Did that make me sad to leave it, or happy to put it in the past?
A knock at the door interrupted my ennui, and I froze. It was one in the morning. I picked up my phone to dial 911 only to find a text from Jack, saying he was outside.
What if it was some murderer who stole Jack’s phone? What if Jack was the murderer?
Phone in hand and 911 dialed, ready to hit send in case this was the end for me, I swung my front door open. “Jack. Hey.”
Jack stood on my doorstep in a suit, suitcase at his side and one hand propped on the doorframe. His tie had already beentaken off at some point, his collar slightly cattywampus. “Can I come in?”
I stepped back, closing the call app on my phone. “Yeah. Come in. What brings you over this late?”
“Just got in from St. Louis. Thought I’d see how my fiancée’s doing before the big move.” His lips curled up in a little smirk. “Did you just have 911 dialed?”
“Um, yes. I thought you’d murder me. Or maybe it wasn’t you somehow. It’s one in the morning, you know.”
He tipped his head from side to side as he closed the door behind him. “Fair. Glad your instinct is to be safe.”
“Safe from you?” I asked.
“From anyone. If you’re taking care of my kids, I want to know you’re ready to do what you need to do.”
“Good point.”
He stood, studying me for a minute. “You look cute.”
I blushed and smoothed my ponytail, gesturing to my sweatsuit. “Here I am!”
Jack took half a step closer. “I, um—” He put a tentative hand on my waist and dipped his head down to mine. I awkwardly swiveled my head, not sure if he was trying to kiss my cheek or my mouth. He hesitated, hovering while we both tried to figure it out. We kissed each other’s cheeks at the same time like we were European, but then Jack gripped my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re going to be my wife in two days. Should probably kiss, yeah?”
“Probably,” I whispered against his lips.
We pressed our lips together, holding for a beat and pulling away. I kept my arms looped around his neck and his hands remained on my waist.
