She gags, making me giggle. But it’s exactly what I need.
Everything’s going to be all right. I don’t know how I know it, but I do.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Hartley
“I really shouldn’t be this nervous,” I say, wincing as I stretch my arms overhead.
The lunch Cathy left in the oven for me has been sitting on the kitchen table for the past hour. I’ve sat and stared at it, swirled it around my plate like a toddler, and eyed it like it personally offended me. My stomach growls, reminding me of the one thing I didn’t do—eat it. But the idea of adding weight to my already heavy stomach doesn’t feel like a smart move.
“I’m just full of not smart moves, lately,” I mutter.
Mira’s texts are still on my phone screen because every time I try to close them, I end up rereading them.
Mira: I’ve already agreed to marry you. You don’t have to keep charming me.
Me: Unfortunately, my charm fails when it comes to you.
Mira: I don’t think that’s true.
“But it is true,” I say quietly. “Otherwise, this marriage wouldn’t have a timer flashing over our heads.”
I blow out a breath, pushing the pity party out of my head. It’s not going to do any good to ruminate over something that’s always been true. She agreed to this setup—and she’s getting a nice chunk of land and house out of it. I might as well accept this thing with Mira for what it is, enjoy it how I can, and just know in the back of my head that it’ll be over in a year.
My finger is set to scroll my contact list when it buzzes with an incoming text.
Mira: I didn’t know this, so I’m going to assume that there’s a decent chance you don’t know this either. (It seems Lolly only clearly communicates select things.) Anyway, I’ve been instructed to wear a wedding dress or something wedding dress-ish. Are you aware that this might be a suit-and-tie occasion?
I grin as I read her message, imagining the look on her face while she typed those words.
Me: To be honest, I haven’t really thought about what I might wear. But a suit and tie sounds like a good choice.
Mira: I don’t want you to have to get anything new.
Me: I know I’m pretty dirty most days, but I do clean up from time to time.
Mira: I didn’t mean it like that!
Chuckling, I type out my response.
Me: I have a suit and a lot of ties. Do you have a color preference?
Mira: Lolly sent me pictures from a florist shop a little while ago. I chose wildflowers—for what, exactly, I don’t know. But there are blues, lavenders, pale pinks, yellows, blah blah blah. But a simple black tie always looks classy.
Me: Your wish is my command.
Mira: You’re going to be my husband in three days. I’d clock that language if you know what’s good for you. Your Honey-Do list will be a mile long.
I reread that last message a few times.You’re going to be my husband in three days.
“Why does that feel like handing matches to a man standing in gasoline?” I ask the empty house. While I’ve imagined how difficult this situation will be just being in proximity to her, I’ve never stopped to think about her language.
That might be my undoing.
Me: It’s a good thing I’m looking forward to it then. I’ll text you after I tell Gray.
