Page 52 of In the Dark

“Exactly.” She finally picked up a fork. “That’s why I felt it was imperative we did it right.”

“What’s classified as right, Jas? The wedding is basically only a contract.”

“Most marriages are. Some are made in love, and others aren’t.” She shrugged like she never believed in a nuptial agreement in the first place.

Who was I to tell her any different, though? I’d seen how many lies could be told in one. My father had lied to us and my mother over and over again. “Right. Just start planning after we finish at the station tonight.”

She didn’t argue or balk. Jasmina would endure hell if she was getting her way. “I’ll get the invites out tonight.” She put her fork down and finally picked up a chicken tender, the most kid food on the whole table, and started munching on it.

I didn’t give a shit what she ate at that point, though. The tension that had me wound tight for days unraveled watching her chew.

And then, when she moaned at the taste and murmured it was really good, another part of my body tightened instead.

Fuck me.

“Also, I really do need to talk with my cousins. They’re great at this wedding planning stuff.”

“And you’re not?” The confidence seemed to drain from her with my question. Jasmina Ruiz was interesting. She held herself in high regard when it came to combat, to her family, and to analyzing a business, but I saw how she shied away from planning what most women would consider an important day of their lives.

She chewed her cheek before saying, “They just have a better eye for these sorts of things.”

“What about what you want?” I was genuinely curious if she ever pictured her life outside of them. I didn’t know if I pictured my life outside of the Diamonds, but I contemplated it with the way Jameson had told me I needed my sanity.

I’d always accepted the Diamond lifestyle, accepted that I enjoyed who and what we stood for. It was easy probably because I didn’t care much about anything else.

Now, I considered what I’d do if I did care about something other than them.

She tilted her head. “Didn’t you say this wedding doesn’t have to be what I want at all?”

“I say stupid shit to you all the time, Jasmina. Doesn’t mean I actually expect you to think it’s true.”

“Callahan, it’ll be a performance. Whether it’s the one I want or not, doesn’t really matter.”

Why did that statement piss me the hell off now? I was giving her a whole two months, and she couldn’t put one thing she wanted in the wedding now?

“I want your cat to run down the aisle holding our rings,” I blurted out like a legit imbecile.

“Romeo?” She stared at me, confused, and then a small smile tilted her mouth. “You hate my ex.”

“Fran will like it.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to get a grip on myself. I did hate that fucking cat. What was I thinking? “And what are your favorite colors?”

“Does it matter?” She chuckled and took another chicken tender. I was entertaining her enough that she was eating. That’s what mattered at this point.

“It does to me. Tell me. What’s your favorite color?”

She pointed to her hair. “I love blues. Dark as midnight and as light as a blue sky.” She glanced at me and sighed. “Sometimes I’m even drawn to a blue-green that resembles the color of my future husband’s eyes when he’s not being a jackass.”

“That a compliment?”

“It might be, or I might just be fluffing your ego to get my way.”

I’d take her admission either way. The pull this woman had on me already wasn’t something I could ignore.

She looked away and broke our connection by studying the different plates. “What’s your favorite here?”

“The pasta. It’s an Italian restaurant, Jas.”

“So I should eat that instead of chicken tenders? You know, chicken tenders are universally the best food you can have, because they always are decent even at a new restaurant. So, no fuss.”