Page 41 of Bottle Shock
He swallows hard. “Scottie.”
“Yes, dear husband?”
His answer is to grab my hand and pull me into the walk-in closet.
I stumble a little, laughing as he shuts the door behind us. “Trying to consummate the marriage, I see?”
He exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Oh, come on.” I fold my arms, grinning. “You kissed me without warning, didn’t tell me what was going on, and then expected me tojust go with it.What did you think would happen?”
“I thought you’d…go with it,” he says, sounding slightly strangled.
“Idid.Exceptionally well, if I may add. Now, explain.”
He groans quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I overheard the owners outside before you got here. They said they wanted to sell to a young couple. A family. Someone who’d love the place like they did. So when they asked, I said I was waiting for my wife.”
I flutter my eyes at him, still smirking. “So naturally, your next logical step was to kiss me in front of witnesses.”
“I never claimed to know what I was doing. I just acted.”
“Yeah,” I say, tilting my head. “You definitely acted.”
Actedso well, there’s a needy pressure building between my thighs, desperately seeking relief. And I have no one to blame but myself because I just had to taunt him.
He finally looks at me then—really looks—and my breath catches. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Something that makes my stomach twist and my skin hum.
“Please,” he says.
It’s a simple word, but not a simple request.Please lie for me. Please pretend to be my wife. Please keep this between us. Please don’t make me regret this. Please help.
“Fine,” I say softly, breaking the tension. “We’ll play your little married couple game. But next time you want to fake a relationship, maybe give yourwifea heads-up before you stick your tongue in her mouth.”
He feigns defensiveness as a slow grin tugs at his lips.“You stuck your tongue in my mouth first. I was reacting.”
“Mm-hmm. And for the record”—I step closer, just because I can—“that was for revenge.”
“Revenge?” His voice is low now, amused and rough.
“Yep.” I smile sweetly. “For roping me into this.”
He chuckles, the sound soft and genuine, and the space between us suddenly feels too small, too warm.
“Remind me to never get on your bad side,” he murmurs.
“Oh, Gavie, honey,” I say, brushing past him toward the door, “you’re already on it.”
We leave the closet unnoticed.
Gavin walks a few steps ahead, with total composure,while I’m still trying to figure out if my racing heart has plans to ever return to normal.
Just because I canlookfine and dandy on the outside doesn’t mean I’m not spiraling out of control on the inside.
We wander through the primary suite and down the wide staircase into a living room that looks straight out of a travel ad for the Pacific Northwest. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the lake, sunlight sparkling off the water. Everything about it screams cozy.
“This place is incredible,” I murmur, mostly to myself.
“Yeah,” Gavin says, glancing around. “It’s something.”
