I stared straight ahead. “Of, course I like him. He’s my husband.”
“Uh-huh.” She bumped her shoulder into mine. “Try that again without sounding like someone reading tax law regulations out loud.”
I rolled my eyes. “Stella.”
“Charlotte.”
“Fine. I do like him,” I admitted. “A lot. Even more now than I did the last time we had this conversation, but I still don’t know how he feels about me.”
She barked out a laugh. “Hemarriedyou.”
“In Vegas.”
“And?”
“And we were drunk.”
She shrugged. “People get drunk and marry the wrong person every day. That doesn’t explain the way he looks at you.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.” My cheeks flared hot, but I still forced out the truth, my voice barely above a whisper. “He only looks at me like that because he wants me.”
“Sexually?” she teased, her eyebrows inching up.
“Obviously, but that’s all it is right now and wanting someone is easy. Especially if you’re living with them and spending almost all your free time together. It doesn’t mean he’s falling in love.”
“This again? Really?” Stella stuffed the last bite of her croissant into her mouth, dusting crumbs off her shirt. “He literally threw you over his shoulder and dragged you off to Vegas to get married, then he took you home, paraded you around a ranch like you’re the crown jewel of Texas, and he’s fighting your father tooth and nail. That has to mean that he’s at least a little bit emotionally invested.”
I swallowed hard, trying to suppress the surge of hope rising from deep within. “The marriage wasn’t his idea, though. Neither was Vegas. I’m pretty sure Alex was responsible for both those things, and in the meantime, back at the literal ranch, I’m head over heels for the guy.”
“That guy is your husband. You’re allowed to be head over heels for him. In fact, you should be.” She paused in front of the gleaming doors of a high-end department store where she practically had VIP parking. “Give me five minutes. I need new sunglasses, but for the record, I still think you’re wrong. It’s notone-sided, or physical, or a drunken mistake. Give him a little more credit than that. Your husband likes you, Lotte. I think it’s about time you accepted it.”
As soon as the words were out, she pushed into the department store and I followed her, grateful for the AC and the moment to breathe when she disappeared to go to the accessories section. I lingered near the perfumes, pretending to be smelling samples I couldn’t focus on.
Instead, I was replaying every moment with Trent in my mind, the kisses, the warmth of waking up next to him, and the quiet way he traced his thumb along my jaw when he thought I was asleep. I desperately didn’t want to get ahead of myself, but sometimes, I could swear that I felt something more than just lust or affection from him. Something deeper and a lot more real.
But before I could put a name to it, awareness prickled at the back of my neck. My stomach rolled and I turned, my entire being falling when I saw Gregory walking toward the doors from the menswear section.
He saw me instantly, and the expression that slid over his face made my insides twist. Those regal features I’d once thought were handsome went ice cold, his jaw ticking and his eyes narrowing the slightest bit. I had half a mind to run, but before I could move, he closed the distance between us with confident, calculated strides.
“Charlotte,” he said warmly, but his face said he was feeling the complete opposite. “There you are.”
I took a step back when he opened his arms for what looked like it was about to be a hug. “Don’t.”
He reached out anyway, quick and invasive, and grabbed my hand, lifting it to inspect my fingers. My wedding set glinted in the overhead lighting and he scoffed.
“You should stop wearing these,” he said. “Why don’t you just take them off now and save us all the trouble?”
I yanked my hand back. “Don’t touch me.”
“Fine, but you shouldn’t wear them.” He smiled, all condescension and manipulation. “It’s misleading.”
“Misleading?” I repeated lamely. “How is itmisleading?”
He folded his hands behind his back, his posture relaxed but his eyes glinting with cool detachment. “Your sham of a Vegas wedding isn’t going to hold up in court. You know that. I know that. Trent probably knows it too.”
I stiffened, but he leaned in slightly and lowered his voice. “You already agreed to marry me before you ran off with him.”
So surprised that I laughed, I gaped at him, my head shaking as I pulled back. “I never agreed to anything.”
