Page 71 of Bottle Shock
CHAPTER 19
Gavin
JUST FOR PRACTICE
The GPS tells me it’s forty minutes to Dabney Point, a secluded island on Lake Washington. Traffic thickens as we cross the bridge, and through the shifting mist, the skyline comes into view, then disappears behind the trees again. Scottie keeps staring out the window, her reflection ghosting across the glass—quiet in a way that’s unusual for her.
I clear my throat. “You okay?”
She turns toward me, eyes flicking to meet mine. “Yeah. Just trying to wrap my head around the fact that we’re really doing this.”
I’ve been trying to do the same since the moment I suggested it.
“Almost there,” I tell her, unsure if that makes it worse or better. “I booked us a place to get ready before the courthouse.”
Her brow lifts. “Like a hotel? You went all out.”
“It’s nothing fancy,” I say, though it’s far from average. “I figured we’d both need somewhere to freshenup.”
Her mouth curves. “I assumed we’d be getting ready in a public restroom. So far, you’ve thought of everything.”
Not everything, I think. Definitely not how to stop wanting her. In fact, it’s only gotten worse.
Scottie is silent for the remainder of the drive, and I’d give anything to know what she’s thinking. Is she having second thoughts? Is she regretting this entire arrangement? Asking her to marry me was the most impulsive thing I’ve done in years. Afterward, I kept waiting for the regret to sink in, but it never did. It’s an easy thing for me to do—to make sure she never goes without the medications she needs.
I just hope when this is all over, she won’t look back and wish she’d never said yes. Because I already know what’s coming for me. When this ends—when she returns to her life and I to mine—I’ll be the one left changed. And I’m not sure I’ll ever find my way back to who I was before.
The hotel sits on a waterfront street overlooking the lake, the city skyline rising faintly in the distance. Everything about Dabney Point screams affluent—mansions, manicured lawns, stone gates, cars that cost more than most houses. I chose it for one specific reason: privacy.
We pull into the lot, and I park under a tree with leaves dripping from last night’s rain. Scottie glances at the building, then back at me. “Looks pretty fancy to me.”
My shoulders lift in a shrug. “I mean, it is our wedding day. Figured I’d spring for something better than a questionable motel.”
We check in, thefront desk agentbarely looking up from his screen as I sign the papers. Our room is on the fourth floor, overlooking the lake. Scottie walks straight to the window when we enter, pushing aside the sheer curtains.
“Wow,” she says quietly. “Maybe the next lake house you buy should be here.” She waggles her brows, and some of thetension in me eases. I love that, despite how uncomfortable this situation could be, she manages to lighten the mood.
Joining her, I look out at the view. The water outside glitters like glass, broken only by the occasional ripple from a passing boat—the kind of view you could sit and stare at for hours.
Scottie turns around, hands on her hips. “So, what’s the plan? Do we get dressed, take some deep breaths, and then go do this wedding thing?”
I huff out a laugh. “Something like that.”
Her smile softens. “Sorry, I’m nervous, and when I’m nervous, I babble. Please tell me you’re nervous too.” She gnaws on her bottom lip, momentarily distracting me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was doing it on purpose—biting down on that plump lip, fixing her doe eyes on me. It’s no wonder I practically begged to marry her.
“Yeah,” I admit. “I’m nervous.” Maybe not for the same reasons.
She releases a sigh that does dangerous things to the region below my belt.
“That makes me feel slightly better.” Wandering to the end of the bed, she claims a seat, sitting stiffly like she’s bracing for something. “I was hoping we could talk,” she starts, her tone careful, “before we actually go do this.”
I nod as nerves swirl in my stomach. “Yeah, of course. We can talk about anything.”
Her hands twist in her lap as she stares down at them, avoiding my gaze. “I know we’re doing this so I can have insurance, but I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you. If you want me to sign a prenup, I’m more than willing to do that.”
The last thing I’m worried about is money. A prenup never once crossed my mind. “We don’t need a prenup,” I sayfirmly. “When this is over, if you want half, you can have it. Hell, you can have more than half.”
She scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m not taking a dime from you, and the fact that you think I would has me worried you think that little of me.”
