Page 48 of Hired Husband

“Yeah. There’s nothing else like it, is there?”

“Not that I know of.”

We took our seats around the fire, joining another group and chatting until our tour guide came wandering over with a clipboard. “My friends, it is my pleasure to tell you that we are able to offer you a tent in a more modern establishment for your lodging this evening. We’ve had a cancellation. Another married couple in Sharm on their honeymoon couldn’t make it, which means their accommodation is available.”

I stared up at him. “I, uh, thank you?”

“We’ll take it,” Isaac said, shifting slightly on his seat beside me. “Thank you.”

The guide beamed at us. “Excellent. I will show the way after your tea.”

He spun around to move on to the next couple and Isaac glanced down at me, amusement dancing in his eyes along with the firelight. “I think he’s mistaken us for a married couple.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. “Oh, he definitely thinks we’re married. Where were we supposed to sleep?”

“The booking website said our only options were the male and female dormitory tents.”

I nodded slowly. “Well, that makes sense, but he must’ve thought that was all we could get because we booked too late. So now, he thinks he’s doing us a favor by upgrading us to a tent for married couples.”

“Well, it’s up to you,” he said. “If you’d be more comfortable⁠—”

“In a dormitory tent?” I scoffed and reached for his hand, wrapping my fingers around it before pulling it into my lap. “No, thank you. I hate communal sleeping arrangements, so you just got yourself a wife for the night, Mr. Thayer.”

“Okay, then.” His grip on my hand tightened and he scooted a little closer, sending me a smile so tender that it made my heart stutter. “We’re playing along, Mrs. Thayer.”

When I looked up again, an older couple we’d been chatting to at dinner was coming over to sit with us. The woman grinned as she caught my eye. “The honeymooners’ suite, huh? You two must be thrilled.”

I nearly inhaled my tea, but Isaac didn’t miss a beat. “We’re very grateful the other couple didn’t show up.”

“I bet.” The man chuckled as he lowered himself onto the low stone bench beside Isaac. “How long have you two been married?”

“A couple months,” Isaac replied easily, leaning into my side and resting his head on top of mine. “I know it’s not that long, but it’s definitely been long enough to know I married well.”

The woman sat next to her husband, laughing softly as she patted his thigh. “It’s been a while since you’ve said something like that about me.”

“Nonsense.” He slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “I know how lucky I am. I just haven’t said it out loud.”

Isaac and I both laughed, drawing the attention of some of the others around the fire. While we spoke about our imaginary wedding and courtship, a few more people came to join us and the guide brought over a tray of marshmallows.

We took a few to roast, but somehow, Isaac managed to do it all without his hand ever leaving mine. He was playing the role of doting husband so well that I was having some real trouble not just sinking into his side.

As he spoke to a few of the men about what we’d seen and done in Egypt so far, he turned at one point to motion toward me. “You should ask Jasmine about that. She’s our adventure mastermind. I’ve been living the best version of my life with her at the helm.”

I wasn’t even sure what the guy was supposed to ask me about, but Isaac had looked straight into my eyes when he’d said that thing about living his best life and he seemed completely genuine.

It really didn’t look like part of the act.

I leaned a little closer to him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek as I smiled. “You make it easy to plan those adventures.”

That wasn’t a lie either. Maybe we were only pretending tonight, but surrounded by all these strangers who believed we already belonged to each other, the alternate reality felt pretty damn good.

Everyone around us oohed and ahhed. A couple comments about the joys of being newlyweds rippled through the group, but I didn’t care. I just rested my head on his shoulder while he regaled the others with tales of our day at Ras Mahomed.

Finally, the guide circled back to us and we followed him across the raised wooden platforms to our tent. Lanterns were strung beside the paths, casting a soft, orange glow that lit our way.

“This is it,” the guide said, sweeping a hand toward a tent that overlooked the dark desert, its canvas walls backlit by a single lamp inside. “There will be more tea at the fire when you’re ready. Maybe some dancing later too. It really depends on the group.”

“Thank you,” Isaac said.