One Night Wife (The Confidence Game 1)

“I’m not mad.”

She wasn’t quite right in her head though, because she might’ve hurt Cal when she tackled him. He tipped over making an oof sound as his back hit the carpet. She balanced over him. The last time she’d told a man she loved him, he’d become her bar tab revenge and her reason for worrying about her sexual health. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I love you.”

“Holy fuck.”

He laughed. “Not exactly the reaction I was looking for.”

“What did you think I was going to say?”

His brows angled down. “I, ah.”

He started to sit, and she pushed him down again. She wasn’t suffering from organ failure, but this was an out-of-body experience all the same. She stared at him. Those blue eyes, electric vibrancy, the sweep of dark hair that tousled up beautifully, the strong chin and jaw, and devilishly clever mouth. Under her scrutiny, his expression switched from his usual easy confidence to concerned.

“Say it again,” she said.

“I love you.” He didn’t twitch. He didn’t make any of those moves she’d learned people lying did. Nothing in his eyes or around his lips that suggested he was gaming her.

“Oh God. I love you, too.”

Now, every move he made was one of relief. He held her as if she was his anchor in a storm, murmuring sweet endearments that curled up her spine and smoked her bones. They kissed for a long time on the carpet in the corridor. There was a giant bed not a few feet away, but Fin was happy to have Cal where she wanted him, and he kissed her till she forgot about rug burn and social inequity and the fact that men lied about this kind of thing.

It was only later, after they’d made it to the bed for round two and she lay snug against his side while his breathing deepened and he drifted to sleep, that she remembered why this was still unsettling. He’d said everything she wanted to hear and yet not enough, because Cal had loved Rory, too. But he’d left her because he wasn’t in love with her.

Chapter Twenty

Now that the Everlasting deal had closed, Cal was independently wealthy once again, no longer in danger of having to liquidate assets, or unable to protect himself should fortune turn against him.

He had his eye on a new giving portfolio and a sweet Mercedes Coupe. He was helping himself to outrageous wealth and putting it to work to save an underappreciated world, while being responsible for the financial and legal wellbeing of the all the members of the Sherwood, Archer, and alliance families—and still his parents could make him feel like a careless kid careering into unseen danger, without the good sense of impending doom.

The three of them sat in the garden in the waning warmth. Dad’s prized rose bushes were nothing but thorns, and the conversation was as prickly and likely to draw blood.

“This was going to happen at some point,” Cal said.

Did they truly think he’d be satisfied to be alone forever? He met terse mouths and narrowed eyes. Dad drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair. Mom crossed and uncrossed her arms and generally fidgeted about.

“If it wasn’t me, it could’ve been Zeke or Halsey.” That got an eye roll from Mom. “Okay, maybe not Halsey. I can’t remember the last time he dated. But what if it was Sherin or Tresna?”

“But it’s not one of the girls,” said Mom. “They know the rules.”

“And you both know the rules have to change.”

Mom crossed her arms again. “We don’t know any such thing.”

He looked at his father. “This is important to me.”

Dad had to understand. He’d faced the wrath of his own father when he wanted to marry Katrice Archer, who Granddad considered a two-bit hustler and not worthy of taking the name Sherwood.

Dad looked at the secateurs on the table in front of him. That wasn’t a hopeful sign.

“We never thought we’d be having this conversation with you.” Mom gave the sigh of millenniums of mothers disillusioned with their child. You could almost hear the ancient cackle of why won’t you do as you’re told in it. “You were supposed to marry Aurora, and none of this would be an issue.”

“Yeah, I got it. I’m a big disappointment. But we have to move on.”

“Why can’t you be like other men and have a grand affair and leave it at that,” she said.

His turn to sigh. His sounded more like why wasn’t I orphaned at birth. “I’m having a grand affair. But I’d like to make it a permanently grand one.”