As I took my slippers off and climbed into bed that night, the only thing I had energy for was the heavy sigh that escaped my lips, and as I closed my eyes and tried to rid myself of thoughts of what I needed to do tomorrow, my mind voluntarily floated to Aramis. Was the fake relationship off? I assumed so. If we were supposedly dating, he would have made a show of it in front of his sister-in-law and sister. I knew he was busy with Oscar, making sure he took him to see his mother every day and spending as much time with the boy as he could. Now that Esmée was at home and had all the help in the world since Elias and Aramis sent her a staff of her own, I was sure Oscar would want to go back to his regular life with his mother and the rest of his family. I had no idea what that would look like for him or for Aramis.
My eyes were drifting shut when my phone vibrated and made me jump to pick it up. It was Aramis. I answered it quickly.
“You were sleeping,” he said, his voice was warm and deep in my ear.
“Not sleeping. Not yet.”
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in days.”
“That’s because you’ve been avoiding me.”
“Avoiding you? You’re the one planning a shotgun wedding. Pilar says she’s not pregnant, so I don’t understand what the rush is.”
“Does it matter? It got you off the hook.”
“You really don’t believe that.” He scoffed. “If anything, my younger sister getting married will mean I’ll get double the questions. Double the pressure.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
“You’re an only child.”
“You say it like it’s a compliment.”
“Isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. Would you want to be an only child?”
“In this family? Absolutely not. That would mean I’d be King.”
“Who doesn’t want to be King?”
“The only people who want to be King are the ones who don’t know what the title entails.”
“You’re right.”
“As usual.”
“Funny.” I smiled. “What’d you call me for? To tell me how much you miss me?”
“More like to grace you with my voice since I know you missed me.”
“Oh, right, of course, which is exactly the reason I called you in the first place.”
He chuckled deeply. I smiled wider, biting my lip.
“I’ve missed this,” he said finally after a bout of silence. I was surprised to hear the words and even more surprised to feel the butterflies swarm my belly.
“I have as well.”
“I’m surprised you admitted it aloud.”
“Me too.”
“I still want to date.”
“Fake date,” I said.
“Sure. Whatever you want to call it.”
“Okay.” I bit my lip again and finally gathered up the courage to say, “No kissing.” And because he stayed quiet and didn’t answer right away, I added it one more time, “No kissing when we’re alone, or in public for that matter; I’m sure we can go without kissing.”
“That’s fine.”
“Okay, good.” I hated the way my heart sank.
I hated that I wanted him to fight me on this one thing and that he didn’t seem to care whether he kissed me again or not. If his reaction to it last time was any indication, I shouldn’t have been surprised, and yet I was. He wanted me. I felt it. I saw it in his eyes when he looked at me. Maybe I was an idiot for misreading the entire thing.
“You’ll be my date to the wedding,” he said. “That’s kind of assumed since we’re dating, but I wanted to state it so there would be no confusion.”
“Sure. I mean, we’re both in the actual wedding and sitting in the same table at the reception, so I don’t think it matters how we get there or leave.”
“Like I said, I want no confusion.”
“There won’t be any.”
“Good. Good luck with the rest of the planning. Good night, Joslyn.”
“Good night, Aramis.”
With that, we hung up. I tossed and turned all night.
Chapter Eighteen
“You look beautiful.” I smiled at Pilar as I walked into her room.
“Thank you.” She turned around and showed me the rest of her gown, which was now completely altered and fit perfectly against her curvy frame. “And thank you again for everything you’ve done. I knew you could, but it’s still . . . I’m in awe.”
“And you haven’t even seen the reception.” I winked.
“I can’t wait.” She squealed. “I can’t believe I’m actually getting married.”
“You better believe it after all the work we put into this.” I raised an eyebrow. She laughed. The women around her, helping her dress, also laughed lightly.
“Do you know if Tamara and Asher are here?” Pilar asked. “We don’t know if Ash fits in his little tuxedo.”
“I’m sure he—”
As if on cue, the door opened and Asher, Ben’s son, ran inside. His mother followed closely behind him, a bashful smile on her face.