“What’s a newy-wed?” Kat looks up at Libby and then turns to her dad.
“Someone who just got married,” Will answers.
“What do newy-weds get up to?” Kat asks innocently.
My face is on fire, and Libby’s is bright red. Ellie laughs lightly, and again it’s Will who answers. “Kissing and stuff,” he says, his tone amused.
Kat scrunches her nose. “Oh.” She sounds very disappointed.
“Come on.” Ellie waves her hands at the group, motioning us toward the door. “Let’s go.”
Kat and Emmeline cheer and pull Libby forward. “Sorry,” I mouth at her as she’s propelled after Ellie. Guilt pools in my stomach for not somehow getting us out of this, and yet I feel certain Ellie would have known my marriage with Libby is a sham if we refused.
Libby shakes her head at me. “We were ambushed,” she says in a low voice. “Told you dinner with my parents was easy.”
CHAPTER 18
LIBBY
On the one hand, this bed is huge.
On the other hand, there is only one.
Jordan and I stand in Ellie’s guest suite, staring at it. Ellie reiterated on the way home that the guest bedroom is on the other side of the house from the master and the girls’ bedrooms, so whatever “newy-wed” things we got up to would be completely private.
Uuuuuugh. Once again, heat spreads through my cheeks thinking about that whole conversation. Why didn’t I put my foot down and say I wanted to stay in the hotel? I’m twenty-seven. I don’t have to do what my sister says.
Except here I am, in my sister’s guest bedroom.
Our bags were brought up here, just like if we were staying in a hotel, while we ate dinner with Ellie and her family, which, considering what went down at the airport, went fine. Ellie asked about how we met and seemed to accept all our answers—except she had the same shrewd expression the whole time we talked, like when she asked me why I didn’t want to stay with her. Worry creeps in that in the three days we stay here, she’s going to figure out somehow that Jordan and I have not been dating for six months and our marriage is all for show.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Jordan says, interrupting my fearful thoughts.
“No!” I say immediately. “My sister would probably find out.” I wave my hands wildly around the room and say in a loud whisper, “She’s probably got cameras or something.”
Jordan’s eyes widen, and he glances around. “Really?”
I let out a sigh. “No. She wouldn’t invade our privacy likethat. But she would figure it out. Somehow.”
Jordan swallows. Then he clears his throat. “So we’re both going to sleep in that bed?”
I nod solemnly. “We’re going to have to.”
Jordan scrubs a hand through his hair and paces a few steps around the room. His reaction is a little surprising. He’s been the perfect gentleman since day one: never trying to kiss me unless we’ve discussed it previously, always finding a way to make sure I was okay with hand-holding or his arm around my back or a peck on the cheek. I know he can be a gentleman for a few nights and sleep on his side of this massive bed.
And I guess I kind of thought, with all the flirting he does, that he might have feelings for me. But the way he’s clearly agitated by the situation means I’ve misread him. His charming demeanor is just that—part of his personality.
Jordan paces back toward me and stops. “If we told Ellie the truth, would she tell your parents?”
“I can’t tell Ellie.” I shake my head. “She’d book the private jet first thing to take her to New York to give Mr. Stevens a piece of her mind and threaten to sue him or something for making me jump through ridiculous hoops.”
Jordan presses his lips together. “Maybe we should’ve thought to sue. Sexism.”
“I never would have won. Ellie wouldn’t win. She’d just want to yell. They never came out and said the words, and they weren’t wrong that I am young and that I don’t have any hockey experience.” I sit down on the bed, facing away from him. “Ever since…” I hate talking about Grayson, and I can’t bring myself to say his name out loud. I’m so grateful that Jordan has never brought him up or made me talk about that experience. What happened with Grayson defined me for so long since it was all over social media and talked about on our show. I’ve worked hard to get my image past that. “Ever since the show ended,” I finish instead. He can infer what I mean. Jordan’s a smart guy. “My family has been overprotective of me—for good reason,” I rush to add. I don’t blame them. What happened with Grayson terrified our whole family in one way or another. “When Mr. Stevens suggested I couldn’t do this on my own, I knew my dad or Ellie or my mom could make it happen, but I wanted it to bemewho did this. Me who managed this franchise and made it a success.”
“I know,” Jordan says softly. “And I understand.” His voice is closer than he was a moment ago, and I want him to take me in his arms. He won’t, and that’s my own fault.
“I hired you because you’re really smart, Jordan,” I go on. “That was agooddecision.” Why couldn’t the governing board understand that I know what I’m doing, that I would surround myself with the right people? That’s what I did at my firm; that’s how I made it a success.
