Page 77 of Bridesmaid By Chance
My eyebrows turn down. “I will be your partner.”
“Stop, Hudson. I’m sure you have better things to do than to learn some dances with me.”
“I’ll be your partner,” I repeat. “No discussion.”
“Okay,” she says with a roll of her eyes. Christ. “Anything else?”
I clear my throat, unsure of how to handle this side of her. “There’ll be a lot of meetings and dinners we have to attend. You’ll attend as my wife, not my assistant.”
“Okay.”
“And pack light, because I’ll be taking you to Harrods when we arrive to make sure you have the appropriate wardrobe for the different events we will be attending.”
“Okay.”
I purse my lips to the side, annoyed with her one-word replies. “And I’ve set you up for a class in etiquette before any of the meetings or dinners we have. I want to make sure you’re prepared to eat a meal among dignitaries. Not to mention how to speak to people in a higher position.”
“Okay,” she says, grating on my nerves.
I was sure she’d be insulted about the etiquette classes. I would be. And yet, she hasn’t tossed back any sass. “If that’s all, I’m going to sleep.” She lies down again and turns away from me.
I slide my hand over my jaw and try not to let my discomfort get the best of me, but of course it does. Tonight has been one long night of irritation. She wasn’t home. She wasn’t texting me back. She got home very late. Didn’t seem to care that I was…well…concerned. She’s not treating me the same. She’s lost her spunk. And she’s not wearing my goddamn T-shirt.
As I list that all out, I know it’s fucking ridiculous to be annoyed by, because in the grand scheme of things, she’s doing nothing wrong. This is what she should be like in this type of arrangement. Detached. Distant. And yet somewhere in my sick fucking brain, I want more.
She turns off her light, and the room clouds in darkness as I sit there on the bed, staring at her back.
“There’s one more thing,” I say as I slide under the covers.
“What’s that?” she says as she stays turned away.
So I move in closer and glide my hand over her waist. She doesn’t move, doesn’t even flinch.
“We’re going to have to be intimate in front of people.”
“And your point?” she says, as if this is no big deal.
My hand curls into a fist around the fabric of her shirt. “My point is, if I touch you, hold your hand, press a kiss to your cheek, you need to not be surprised.”
“Hudson, unless somehow your tongue finds my pussy in public, I’m pretty sure we’re not going to have a problem.”
“I’m being serious, Sloane.”
On an irritated sigh, she rolls to her back and looks up at me. In the moonlit room, I take in her soft facial features and the rounded curve of her jawline. She’s…she’s so damn beautiful. I wish that circumstances were different.
“If I thought this was a joke, I’d be laughing. I know you’re being serious.”
“Then…then why are you acting like this?” I ask.
“Like what?”
“Like…like you don’t care?”
“I do care,” she says. “But I’m exhausted with this, with us. I’m kind of over it. So let’s just get through the next couple of weeks, and then we can move on with our lives.”
My brow creases because I don’t like what she said, that she’s kind of over it. Over what, exactly?
“Is this about the other night?”
