Page 12 of Tainted Tempos

“We can spin this,” Kimberly rejoices, her voice rising. “We can make this work.”

“Daryl, it’s Jess,” Jess says, her phone pressed to her ear. She rattles off travel questions, and I know the trip is already being planned.

We’ll be wheels up by the end of the day, safely shuttled out of Vegas and all the prying eyes.

“Mckenna,” I say softly.

My lost girl looks at me, and I fucking hate myself.

“Do you want to go to the Azores?”

She works a swallow. Her chin trembles. “I only packed one bathing suit.”

While her response, careful and logical, would typically make me smile, it makes me want to sob right now.

“We can get you more,” I offer, keeping my tone light. “Are you okay with the trip? With a honey—a vacation,” I correct.

Mckenna looks at me for a long moment. Shadows pass through her eyes. A shiver works through her limbs. “Okay.” Her voice is small and tinny, at odds with her usual confidence.

“Okay,” I agree.

But my team has already leapt into action. They’re not waiting for my confirmation. They don’t care what Mckenna and I are feeling or processing. They’re doing their jobs—as they should since that’s what I fucking pay them for. And right now, I need to do mine.

I need to protect Mckenna—my wife—at all costs. Even if I’m protecting her from myself.

“Two rooms,” I tell Jess and Kimberly, holding up two fingers.

Jess rolls her eyes. “It’s your honeymoon.”

“Make them connect,” I continue. “Let the public think we need one as a closet.”

Kimberly laughs. “That’s wasteful and not on brand with the image we’re cultivating.”

“Fuck the image,” I snap.

Jameson places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes.

“I’ll get you a massive suite,” Kimberly compromises.

“You guys are in love,” Jess reminds me, waving her phone and the multitude of photos, stories, fucking memes it holds from last night.

I thought we were in love.

The thought flits through my mind, and I wince.

In the light of day, the stark reality of what is, instead of what I thought, is a harsh reminder. Painful and ugly.

“You leave in four hours.” Jess ends her call.

“You’ll have the first three days to yourself. Then, some well-placed paparazzi will take well-lit and tasteful photos of your wedded bliss,” Kimberly shares.

“You’ll be gone ten days,” Jess continues.

“Ten days,” Mckenna whispers, staring at her hands and counting on her fingers. It’s innocent and childlike and by the hitch of Levi’s breath, I know he’s worried.

We all are.

Allegra wraps an arm around her friend.

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