Marriage For One

“Rose,” Jack said as a greeting. Just Rose.

For a brief moment, I didn’t know what to say. I was fairly sure it was the first time he had called me by just my name and not Miss Coleson when we were alone. When we had attended that meeting with Jodi and Bryan, I was just Rose, but the second he’d walked me to the elevators after we were done there, I was back to being Miss Coleson. I supposed since I wasn’t technically a Coleson anymore, using my first name was the appropriate choice.

Also, dammit, what a sight he was for my sore eyes. Despite the late hour, he was wearing a suit: dark grey slacks and jacket, white button-down, and a black tie. It was simple, but it still packed an expensive punch. Considering what I looked like in that moment, it was a pretty hard punch, too.

In that first glance, he was nowhere near being my type. I wasn’t into the broody and aloof who didn’t like using their words all that much, as if you weren’t worthy of a conversation in their eyes. Definitely wasn’t a fan of the fancy, rich types who came from money and grew up assuming they owned everything and everyone in their vicinity; I’d met my fair share of them living with the Colesons, and we just didn’t mesh well. Other than that, I had nothing personal against them. So, yes, Jack Hawthorne wasn’t my type. However, that didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate how good he looked with stubble, that sharp jawline, his unique and captivating blue eyes, or the fact that he had a body that wore suits extremely well. No, my issue with my new husband wasn’t his looks—it was his personality.

That’s how the universe works: it gives you the one thing you said you’d never want.

“Jack…you came back.” Given my half-dead state, that was the best answer I could come up with, pointing out the obvious. Considering I hadn’t seen or talked to him since the day he left me in that car, I felt like I had every right to be surprised.

With the look he gave me, like I was so beneath him, a knot of dread formed in my stomach. I had plenty of self-confidence, but guys like him always excelled at making me feel less than. Dealing with Bryan hadn’t made things easier either.

“Did you think I would disappear? Was this the first time he showed up here? Your cousin.”

I nodded.

“Good. He won’t come back.”

That didn’t sound ominous at all.

“We need to talk,” he continued, completely unaware of my nerves.

Hands gripping the counter for support, I nodded again and tried my best to stand straight.

The guy didn’t beat around the bush, that was for sure. He wasn’t exactly a conversationalist, either, from what I’d learned so far. Thankfully, that would work in my favor this time around, because even though I had not been looking forward to seeing him, I’d been getting myself ready for this conversation ever since his parting words to me after the ceremony. A lot of mirror practice sessions had taken place. I was sure, he was there to tell me he wanted a divorce, and I was dead set on changing his mind.

“Yes, we do need to talk,” I agreed once I was sure my knees wouldn’t give out on me.

I didn’t know if it was because he wasn’t expecting me to agree so quickly or because of something else, but he looked taken aback. I ignored it and started my speech.

“I know why you’re here. I know what you came to say, and I’m gonna ask you not to say it, at least not before I finish what I need to say. Okay, here goes nothing. You’re the one who came to me with this offer. Well, I came to your office, but technically you were the one who lured me to your office.”

His eyebrows slowly rose. “Lured?”

“Let me say this. You started this thing. I was making peace with the situation, was even looking for a new job, but you changed things. Your offer changed things. I’ve come here every day since we made our deal. I’ve been working nonstop and now it’s too real to let go. So, I can’t do it. I’m sorry, but I can’t sign the papers. Instead, I have a different offer for you, and I really want you to consider it.”

With every word out of my mouth, his brows furrowed deeper, his expression turning murderous. I still pushed through before he could get a word in, call me on my bullshit, and mess up my thought process.

“I’ll go to as many events as you want me to go to, no limits—as long as it’s after I close the coffee shop, of course. I’ll also cook for you. I don’t know if you cook or not, but I can cook for you and save you the trouble. Free coffee,” I added excitedly when the thought randomly crossed my mind. How had I not thought of that? “Free coffee for two years. Whenever you come in, whatever you want, however many times a day. Pastries would be free, too. And, I know this is going to sound a little silly, but hear me out. It doesn’t seem like you’re the most…sociable person—”