“No,” he says sharply, then softens. “No—sorry. I just… I have no idea what that’s going to say.”
“That sounds ominous.”
He lets out a breath through his nose. “It’s Jensen. Ominous is kind of his baseline. He’s probably calling bullshit.”
That gets a small smile out of me. “So, what’s next?” I ask.
He gives me the same damn frown. “Guess we get married. I have to be in New York Wednesday and Thursday this week.” He glances at me. “We could do it Thursday after work. If that works for you.”
“Wow,” I say grimly. “Every woman’s dream. Let me check my calendar.”
He huffs out a quiet laugh. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“I’m kidding,” I say. “Mostly.”
“How about I make it up to you?”
“Oh?” I grin, already bracing myself for some wildly inappropriatejoke about how many orgasms he can give me. “And how exactly are you planning to do that?”
“Switzerland.” He flashes a grin. “Come to Zurich with me in a few weeks. Could be a sort of honeymoon-type thing.”
Well shit.
What a smooth son of a bitch.
I try like hell to suppress the smile breaking across my face. “Asexlesshoneymoon,” I remind him.
“Whatever you say, babe.”
“Hmm.” I pretend to mull it over, while everything in me wants to scream yes. “I’ll think about it.”
“You’ll think about it?” He cocks a brow, smirk tugging at his mouth. “What’s there to think about? It’s Switzerland.”
“Well, there’s work, for one,” I counter. “I have to make sure I can take the time off. I’ve got that big account I’m working on.”
“We’ll stay at the best hotels,” he says easily. “I’ll get a suite. You can even have your own bedroom.”
I hold up a finger. “I’m not done. Then there’s my annoyingly charming husband who’s going to try to get in my pants the entire time. That could get old fast.”
“Christ,” he mutters, then laughs. “For fuck’s sake. Baby, trust me, once you see these rooms, it’syouwho’ll be trying to get inmypants.”
“Oh, dream on!” I laugh, playfully smacking his arm.
He keeps chuckling, andGod, it feels so damn good to see him laugh after the heaviness of today.
I lay my head back against the seat, letting it fall to the side, watching him as our laughter subsides.
“Yeah,” I say finally. “I’ll go. I’ll see if I can take the time off.”
“That’s great, babe. We’ll have fun. We haven’t been in a long time.”
“It has been a long time,” I repeat mechanically.A really long time.
My eyes drop instinctively to the inside of my bicep. To the one andonlytattoo I have, a small, simple outline of the Matterhorn. Matt got one too. Only his is on his chest, larger, and more detailed.
That was a good trip. One of the happier times I remember of us.
I glance out the window, lost in thoughts of the past, as Matt pulls into the parking garage and eases into his front-row space.
