She waves and climbs into the car as I turn to Marston.
“She’s a good kid,” he says, and there’s something in his voice I can’t nail down. Grief? Reluctance? Regret? Hell, I can’t even figure out my own emotions. I don’t know why I’m trying to understand his.
“I know.” I exhale slowly and make myself meet his eyes—even though it’ll make it that much harder to walk away. “Thank you for that.”
He quirks a brow. “For what?”
“For making her feel special. She’s grown up at The Orchid. It’s important to her.”
“It was nothing.”
It was everything.
“Julian’s . . . coming over?” he asks.
I shrug. “Yeah.”
“Meaning he doesn’t live with you,” he says, searching my face.
I swallow. I don’t want to stand here while Marston analyzes my relationship. It feels too flimsy under the heat in his stare. “That’s right.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Interesting.”
I want to squirm under that knowing gaze, but there’s no way Marston can know the truth, and even if he did, it’s none of his business. “I won’t keep you. I know you have plans, but . . . have a good night.” I turn to go, but his fingertips graze my wrist and I stop.
“I owe you an apology for earlier,” he says, and slowly, I turn. “Seeing him touch you . . . kiss you?” He shakes his head and cuts his eyes away from me to watch the cars pass on the street. “There’s no excuse. I was out of line.”
“I shouldn’t have slapped you.”
“Nah.” He backs away and gives me a grim smile. “I deserved it.”
* * *
Brinley
I hold my wine glass between both hands and lean one hip against a freshly scrubbed counter. True, this wine has calories that won’t help me fit into my wedding dress, but tonight it’s serving as a much-needed emotional crutch. Without it, I might burn the wedding dress and run far, far away.
I take another sip and bow my head, trying to clear away all the doubts and fears about my wedding that seem to multiply any time I see Marston. And this afternoon? Seeing him smile at Cami? I’m a mess.
True to his word, Julian made chicken and noodles for Cami and himself, and a salad and roasted chicken breast for me.
It’s easy to imagine our life like this. Julian cooking us dinners so Cami and I don’t have to rely on carryout, Cami entertaining us at the dinner table with tales from her day, cleaning up the kitchen with Julian after dinner while Cami watches TV, and then crawling into bed each night.
This isn’t how I imagined a marriage of convenience would be. I imagined coldness, awkward conversations, and celibacy, but life with Julian won’t be any of those things. It’ll just be . . . a marriage.
“What are you thinking about so hard over there?” Julian comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. He’s warm, and his embrace should be a comfort. Instead, it makes me tense.
I don’t want him to ask to stay over. I don’t want him to try to touch me right now. I don’t want to admit that both of these truths make me even more fearful about what happens next for us.
He nuzzles my neck and slips a hand under my shirt. “How’s the wine?”
“Good.” I will myself to relax and lean into his embrace. “I needed it tonight.”
“I feel ya.” He blows out a breath and pulls me closer still. “It’s been screwing with me—knowing you’re working with him now.”
I had a feeling that was what the little show in the hallway today was about, but I didn’t expect him to admit it. I should’ve given him more credit than that.
“Then I had a meeting with Ms. Hilton, and I swear, that woman’s going to make me do literal backflips before she signs these contracts.”
I frown. Ms. Hilton owns the apartment complex Julian’s trying to buy. “You already have contracts?”
“Yes, but we’ve gone back and forth so many times, pretty soon the legal fees alone are going to make this investment a loser. But I think we’re finally wrapping it up tomorrow.”
I put down my wine and turn in his arms so I can see his face.
He presses a kiss to my collarbone. “Thanks for having me over tonight. I love spending time with you.”
Guilt pulls tight in my chest. It’s a constant presence, even when I try to push it away, but there’s always been something else with that emotion. A suspicion about this arrangement. “She’s going to sign before the wedding?”
His smile wavers, but he recovers quickly. “Well, maybe. I think we’ve got her convinced.”
“Julian? I don’t want us to lie to each other. We can’t. Not if this is going to work.”
He closes his eyes, then releases me before pacing the kitchen. “She likes that I’m with you. It matters to her that she’s selling to someone she believes will take care of her tenants, and she likes you so much that you helped my case for buying her out.”