He comes over and kisses my left-hand knuckles, right above our “engagement” ring. “You’re fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“My brothers aren’t that difficult.”
“That isn’t what I read.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Did you look them up?”
I nod. “Bianca made a profile for each. Your brothers are intelligent and particular, and they care about you deeply.”
He scoffs. “You wasted Bianca’s time, because I would’ve told you that if you’d asked. And I’m telling you now: there’s no reason to be nervous.”
I don’t know about that. The information Bianca dug up indicated they’re incredibly protective of each other. She wrung her hands when she whispered, “What if they hate you for forcing Sebastian to marry you? Should we try to have a dinner or something before the party? To clear things up?”
“Maybe they don’t know,” I told her, but that’s just wishful thinking and my wanting to delay what could be an ugly encounter. There’s absolutely no reason for Sebastian to hide how our marriage came about. Even if he never said a word, they had to know something was up when we got married so quickly and didn’t invite them to the wedding. But at least his father attended the ceremony. That should make our union look less weird.
“I wish your father was coming,” I say.
Sebastian gives me a strained smile. “He says he’sverysorry about that.”
Closing my eyes, I breathe out, hoping to settle my nerves. “Maybe we can invite him over for dinner instead.”
“I’ll ask, but he’s generally pretty busy with movie stuff.” Something about his tone says he’d really not dine with his dad. Not sure why—Ted is such a sweet, well-meaning man. I would’ve been overjoyed if my father was anything like him.
“I just need a friendly face.” I expel a breath.
“I’m not enough?” His tone is half insulted, half teasing.
“I mean, obviously we’re going to play a nice, happy couple, so—”
Sebastian puts a hand on my waist and spins me around. I gasp, and his mouth fits over mine, his tongue gliding in. I melt into the kiss, the pulsing pleasure of his touch. His large hand supports my back, the warmth seeping in like heated honey.
He presses his mouth on my cheeks, forehead, over my brows and along my jaw line. “You worry too much,” he says between kisses. “And you’re way too tense.”
“I just want people to like me. Us.”I don’t want them to look at us and think you’re wasted on me, like your grandparents and mother do.
“What they like or don’t like is irrelevant. The only thing that matters is you’re my wife.”
“But…”
“If they have a problem withus, they can go fuck themselves.”
I blink, but somehow the crude words fit. He honestly doesn’t care what our guests think.
“And don’t forget, I’ll be right beside you the whole time.”
He squeezes my hand. The anxiety that’s been plaguing me since I got up this morning retreats. My belly’s still tight, but my nerves settle a bit. He raises my hand and kisses the back of it.
I go up on tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”
“And I brought this for you.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box with a discreet Sebastian Jewelry logo on it.
I open it and gasp at a pair of stunning butterfly pins. Beautifully cut blue stones glitter in the shining platinum setting.
“Sapphires and diamonds,” he says.
“Thank you. These are gorgeous,” I whisper, then look up at his handsome face, at his eyes gazing at me like my reaction means everything to him.
