Page 78 of Runaway Bride’s Husband

His eyebrows inched up. “No one looks that excited when they’re anticipating an email. You’re waiting for something else. Something that’s not work. So spill.”

I took a sip of my drink, but that wouldn’t get me out of this. Holden had always been the worst person to lie to. Probably because he’d been handed a particularly vicious education in bullshit from a younger age than me. When our family had fallen apart, Holden had taken the hit almost as badly as Jane.

Overnight, his entire future had shifted. Everything he had thought he would have in life disappeared overnight, the money, the connections, and the doors opening simply because of our name. He’d never forgiven the world for it, now moving through life with no patience for old-money families who pretended their traditions were anything other than elaborate scams.

“Let me guess,” he finally said. “You’re still dealing with that whole Pembroke-Hawthorne circus.”

“I’m helping the Pembrokes plan the wedding.”

“Okay, but you’re not a wedding planner and it’s not like they can’t afford one of those,” he said slowly. “Plus, I’ve been to parties you’ve planned. You’re not very good at it.”

“Hey, I got a keg that one time you and your friends came over.”

“I had the keg delivered literally to your door,” he pointed out. “You forgot to buy plastic cups.”

I groaned. “You guys broke almost every glass I owned that night.”

“That’s why I told you to buy the plastic ones,” he said emphatically, then leaned back against the chair and searched my face. “If you ask me, Daniel and Maggie deserve each other. I’m honestly not sure why you’re so invested in this.”

“Why would you even say that? You don’t know either of them.”

He shrugged. “I don’t need to. They’re both rich, trapped in that ridiculous ecosystem that forces people to marry someone exclusively because their parents think it’s a good idea.”

“That’s how arranged marriages work, Holden. They’re not exactly given a choice.”

He snorted. “No, there’s always a choice. They just refuse to make the difficult one because it’s too…”

“Difficult?”

“Exactly.” He smirked. “What’s a poor trust fund baby without their trust fund? Oh, that’s right. Just poor. Like us.”

I sighed. “We didn’t have a choice in what happened to us, but Maggie and Daniel? They do. They don’t have to lose everything and rebuild from scratch.”

“See? I told you they have choices.” He took a long sip of his drink before regarding me with a strange look in his eyes. “So do you, though. You have choices too, Ryan. Why are you choosing to waste your time on a wedding that has to happen, no matter who plans it or what it looks like?”

“Mom—”

“Will be fine,” he finished for me. “Stop trying to pretend this is about her. It’s not. She might’ve pulled you into it initially, but you wouldn’t still be chasing Maggie around just to give Mom a chance to get invited to a party.”

“I love Mom.”

“Sure, so do I, but let’s be serious about this. You helping with the wedding doesn’t get her a ticket back in and you know that. So what is this really about?”

Fuck.

When I didn’t answer, Holden’s eyes suddenly widened. “Oh, hell. You have a thing for her again, don’t you?”

“No.” I scoffed, looking down at the ripples in the amber surface of my drink as I lifted it back to my lips. “It’s not like that. She’s a nightmare. She locked me out of the cottage when it was raining and then she locked me out of my own damn apartment.”

“That sounds like foreplay for you.” I glared at him, but he just grinned like he had it all figured out. “You’re sleeping with her, aren’t you?”

“Keep your voice down,” I hissed, leaning across the table and narrowing my eyes. “Holy fuck, Holden. We’re in Manhattan. Everyone here knows who these people are.”

“I know. So what the hell are you thinking?”

I swiped my hand across my face and dropped my forehead to the table. “I’m not. Okay, is that what you wanted to hear? I’m not fucking thinking.”

“Yeah, that much is obvious. You’re smarter than this, Ry.”