I emit a shaky breath. “I’m pretty sure my luck is already fucked,” I manage to mumble.
Lincoln’s stare locks onto mine, narrowing in concern. “Would you guys give us some privacy?” His eyes remain on me as the men shuffle out of the room.
“I’m just going to take this with me. Sorry, not sorry,” Oliver mutters, snatching a bottle of brown liquor off the antique sideboard on his way out.
Rocco duck-waddles at the back of the line, his pants clenched in one fist by the waistband and his shirt crumpled up in his other fist. He’s grumbling the whole way.
Lincoln and I both ignore the guys. We just stand there in silence, staring at each other.
The moment the door finally closes, Lincoln steps toward me. He looks better than I even imagined in his fitted tux pants and crisp button-down shirt. His fresh haircut and clean shave make him so handsome that I almost forget the terrifying fate that awaits us on the other side of that door.
“What’s going on, Jules? What happened?” His palms stroke up and down my trembling forearms.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I don’t…I just…I’m sorry…I’m having second thoughts. I don’t want to deceive all our loved ones.”
His concerned expression doesn’t waver. Not a hint of annoyance or disappointment appear. “Okay. Okay,” he repeats, nodding and wiping at my overflowing tears with his thumbs.
God—disappointing him feels so unexpectedly shitty.
“I know we have an agreement…and you’re depending on me to hold up my end of the deal…and—”
“Hey, don’t worry about me,” he whispers in a gentle rasp. “Whatever you choose is the right decision. Either way, I’ll stand by you when we face our guests today.”
After saying those reassuring words, he pulls me toward him and holds me tightly in his warm, strong arms.And my shaking begins to wane.
I wasn’t seeking his comfort when I darted in here, but I sure can’t complain. Somehow all the noise quiets when he’s holding me. I’m able to think a little more clearly.
I need my trust fund. Lincoln needs his business deal. It sounds selfish, yes. But doing this will give us the keys to get ahead in life.
Could it potentially hurt our loved ones? Maybe. But those loved ones—Cameron, my mom, Lincoln’s mom—they will be so much better off when we’re able to take care of them financially.
This marriage is something temporary. Something convenient.
The short-term turmoil will be nothing once we finally achieve our goals.We just need to get our asses down that aisle.
The door bursts open again, making us jump. I turn to find Great-Grandma ambling into the room, wearing her finest dress and lipstick and jewelry. Her eyes widen when she finds us alone, hugging.
“Hey now, you two. No nookie before tying the knot. Save that stuff for tonight.” She stabs at the floor with her walking stick.
Lincoln cringes, and I shudder, hoping to never ever hear the word ‘nookie’ roll off my great-grandma’s lips again.
“Oh, no nookie is happening right now,” I promise.
“Scout’s honor,” Lincoln adds.
Great-Grandma scans me up and down, taking in my outfit. I’m afraid that she’ll scold me for my choice of attire. Instead, she only frowns slightly. “Your neck looks dreadfully plain, dear. I’d like you to wear this.”
That’s when I notice that she’s holding a jewelry box in her hand. She struggles to open it. Lincoln steps in to help her.
She blushes.
“Thank you,” she says sweetly to my charming groom. “These fingers of mine don’t work like they used to.”
Lincoln offers her a smile. Then we all glance down at the gorgeous string of pearls sitting in the cushioned jewelry box.
I gasp. “Great-Grandma. This is beautiful.”
“Go ahead. Put it on your bride,” she coaxes Lincoln.
