Page 10 of Accidentally Marrying the Best Man
“So, how are you?” I ask, voice low, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.
She takes a slow sip of her coffee, eyes darting to mine as if measuring me up. “Like we just jumped off a cliff and forgot to check if there was a net. You?”
“Barely holding onto the ledge,” I admit, pressing my thumb in slow circles on the back of her hand.
She chuckles softly, the sound like music. “I thought you were the tough one.”
“I’m tough,” I say, leaning in close enough to catch the curl of her hair with my breath. And then I kiss her. “But you just might be my kryptonite.”
A blush covers her face as shakes her head, a wry smile breaking through. “Don’t say things you don’t mean. You don’t have to flirt with me. We’re already married.” Her voice lowers on the last few words, and she looks over her shoulder.
I frown. Is she embarrassed to be seen with me? “I never say things I don’t mean.” My voice comes out accusatory.
Charlotte’s foot taps against the floor.
I push my knee against hers to make it stop. She startles, and her gaze meets mine.
“You don’t have to be nervous around me.”
“I’m not,” she says, but then her foot taps again. “It’s really annoying that you know all my tells.”
“You only have one, but it’s a loud one,” I say, and we both laugh, the tension between us easing a little with the sound.
“What do we do now?” she asks.
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know, but I feel overwhelmed with everything there is to do?”
“Like what?” I take a sip from my cup.
She frowns at me. “Stop answering my questions with a question.”
“Why?” I smile. I couldn’t resist.
She shakes her head. “Seriously, what do we do now? Where are we going to live? What do we tell people?”
“Where do you want to live? What do you want to tell people?” She groans and rolls her eyes. I grab her hand. “I’m serious, this time.” I shoot her a quick smile. “We can tell as many or as few people as you want. I’m happy to live in your apartment—a lie—or you can move in with me. Or, we can even live separately—another lie—whatever you want.”
She traces the rim of her mug with her index finger. “Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
“You’re doing it again.” She looks up with a sunny smile on her face.
“Sorry, but I listed a lot of options and I’m not sure which one you’re okay with.”
“I want to move in with you, but keep my apartment just in case.”
“In case of what?”
“In case you snore, or fart too much.” I join in her laughter, but silently I’m bothered by her very sensible choice.
“And when do we tell people?” Weirdly, I’m holding my breath as I wait for her answer.
She traces the mug rim again, and then looks up, her gorgeous brown eyes serious. “The people at work knows I got married this weekend. But I’m not sure I’m ready to tell them towhom, yet. And can we keep it from Jay and the rest of the town for a little while? It’s not like Jay’s around, anyway.”
Although this is exactly the same decision I made last night—not telling Jay—it irks me that she doesn’t want me to tell him she’s mine now. And off limits to him. “He called me last night.”
