They didn’t ask questions. They didn’t probe. There were no careful, suspicious looks at the ring on Aurelia’s hand. They simply moved on, as if our engagement was nothing more consequential than being five minutes late.
I felt my eyebrows pinch together, confusion clashing with something uglier in my chest—the knowledge that they didn’t care.
Their daughter, an incredibly smart, beautiful, wonderful woman, was standing here, newly engaged, and her parents had barely blinked. There hadn’t even been a flicker of concern that she might be rushing into something dangerous, or wrong, or unwise.
The least they could’ve done was care enough to question me. To make me prove I deserved her, but nope. Maybe it was still coming, but I found myself tightening my grip on Aurelia’s hand anyway, my jaw aching from how hard I was clamping it shut.
One thing was suddenly painfully clear to me. If her parents refused to protect her, I would.
We found our table and made small talk with the other guests, but when the Van Alens joined us, I was surprised that Regina seemed to be talking about our wedding to the woman who’d come to the table with her.
“…five hundred people at least,” she gushed. “We’re planning it for next summer at our estate in the Hamptons. Think tents on the lawn, sunset, a cathedral veil, and?—”
Aurelia tried to cut in. “Mom, I don’t?—”
Regina talked right over her, steamrolling her daughter like her opinion about this truly didn’t matter. “We’ll have a live band, of course. No DJ.”
Something inside me snapped. Aurelia clearly didn’t want this, and as my bride, she was going to get exactly what she wanted.
“Actually, we’re getting married on Christmas Eve in New York,” I said, my voice sharp enough that all the chatter around the table immediately ceased. “In the morning. I’ve already booked the venue.”
I hadn’t, of course, but the lie came out smooth, practiced, and unshakable.
Regina scoffed, unimpressed, like I’d just confessed to renting out a diner for the occasion. “Christmas Eve? As in,thisChristmas Eve?”
Her mouth curled like the words themselves were vulgar. Disgusting.
I didn’t bother responding to her. My eyes were on Aurelia, who was glowing. She was looking at me like I’d handed herthe world on a silver platter, giving me a soft, private smile and squeezing my hand under the table.
That was enough.
“Excuse us,” I said, standing and tugging her up with me before either of her parents could argue. I swept her straight onto the dance floor, letting the crowd swallow us up.
“You lied to my mother,” she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement as her body fit against mine. “Unless you really have booked a venue and forgot to tell me.”
“Yeah, no. I lied,” I admitted. “We don’t have any reason to wait, though. Work starts up again in January. It’ll be better to get it done before that.”
Her lips parted, curving into a slow, devilish smile. She tilted her head to look me straight in the eye. “Bossing you around is going to be so much fun, but if you’re serious about Christmas Eve, I hope you know we’re going to have our work cut out for us.”
CHAPTER 30
AURELIA
The moment the champagne glasses were set down and the band struck up another waltz, Harrison leaned in close to my ear. “Let’s get out of here.”
I didn’t argue. Not when my mother was already cornering some poor senator’s wife to brag about a wedding the woman wasn’t going to be invited to. Not when my father barely seemed to notice I’d been in the room at all. Not when my brothers had barely spared a glance at my fiancé when I’d introduced him.
Harrison’s hand was firm at the small of my back as he steered me out. The December air bit at my bare shoulders as we hurried to his car. I expected him to turn toward my apartment, but he didn’t. The streets blurred past, city lights glinting across the windshield, and soon enough, we were pulling up in front of his townhouse.
No words were exchanged, but at this point, none were needed. His intentions were clear. He’d come right out and told me earlier what he wanted tonight. I could tell that his plans had remained unchanged despite my parents’ appalling behavior. It was in the way he walked me up the steps with his hand still pressed firmly to the small of my back.
His fingers dipped under the material slightly, sending sparks across my skin from the contact. He turned his key sharply in the lock, kicking the door shut without ever letting go of me. Much to my own surprise, I was thankful for it.
Thankful for the way this shift in our arrangement to a place where sex was part of the deal had already happened. Thankful that it felt inevitable, natural, and necessary. Thankful that the boundary between business and pleasure had already fallen under the weight of us just being us.
My budding feelings for him, whatever these messy, unspooling things were, didn’t matter in the slightest. Because the second his mouth was on mine, I was swept away by the sheer force of him. I wasn’t even sure who grabbed who first, but we collided like we’d been waiting years for this.
My back hit the wall, his jacket already falling to the floor, and his hands slid into my hair like he couldn’t get enough of me. Frankly, I knew I couldn’t get enough of him either.
