Page 46 of The Grump I Married
“Just in general,” she said, lifting her shoulder, her voice too calm, too airy. “I know you’re busy and working and jumping through all these hoops, but you seemed less, I don’t know,aggravated when you showed up in Paris. I sort of figured we’d need to spend the first day decompressing you.”
“Because I was already hopped up on champagne and macarons when I got here.”
Tess laughed. “I’m serious. I know you say nothing’s changed, but when you talk about Lochbrae, about your time with Weston and your demon pony, there are moments when it almost sounds…”
“What?”
She hummed, going quiet for a beat. “Different,” she finally said. “Like you’ve warmed up to the idea of being Mrs. Kincaid—and maybe not in a temporary way.”
I sighed heavily. I hadn’t told her about that day in the dining room or the sex dreams I’d been having. Because that would make it all too real, and nothing was happening. “It definitelyisstill temporary, but…I suppose it’s not as awful as I’d expected.”
“Okay, hold up,” Tess said, propping herself up on her elbow. “There was definitely a tone there.”
“No, there wasn’t.”
She leaned so close to me I could see the green flecks in her brown eyes and smell the alcohol on her breath. “Trust me, I know your tones. So am I right?” she asked. “Are there new feelings there?”
“No.” My face flushed as I tripped over my own words, trying to deny what she was saying. “I mean, er, I don’t know.”
Tess reared back, her eyes wide. “I know you always thought the man was attractive. I mean, even I can admit Weston is like sexon a stick.” My blush deepened. “But you always put up a kind of firewall against him, so you could stay professional. What’s changed?”
I flopped onto my back, thinking of Weston stropping into the kitchen at dawn for his coffee, eyes still half-closed, his dark hair mussed from sleep, his thin sweatpants and sleeveless shirt clinging to him in ways I shouldn’t be thinking about.
“Living with him, seeing all his unguarded moments, even in that big house…”That’swhat had changed.
Tess looked like she wanted to squeal, and I held my finger to her lips. “Don’t.”
“You’re living with your own sexyHearts of the HighlandsScottish warrior!” she exclaimed.
I rolled my eyes, ignoring the flutter in my gut. If I opened my mouth to deny it, to tell her she was reading things wrong, I’d be lying, wouldn’t I? Because I’d already admitted that something had changed.
“You know what? This tracks. You never did like your guys too polished or put together,” Tess teased.
“That’s…that’s not true.” My thoughts flashed back to Weston in his rugged hiking outfit, Weston kilted up in my dreams, Weston in his casual sleepwear. Weston in anything other than a suit. I’d gotten used to the suit over the years. I was immune to the suit. But the rest of this…I had no defenses against it!
“Itsoooois!” Tess argued. “Don’t you remember high school?”
I grimaced. “Do Iwantto remember high school?”
“You didn’t start crushing on Derek until you had PE class together.” Tess waggled her eyebrows at me. “That’s when you saw him all sweaty and disheveled. Then you fell hard, practically drooling after him until the moment he asked you to be his girlfriend.”
I hummed, forcing a smile. I still remembered that day. I’d skipped class to find Tess just so I could tell her immediately after it happened. We’d been holed up in the second-floor bathroom, jumping up and down and shrieking for the entire period. “I actually just saw an update on social media,” I said, absently picking at a piece of fluff on the comforter. “Apparently, Derek and his wife just had another baby.”
“Lena…” Tess said softly, her tone losing the silly, giddy edge, filling with sympathy instead.
“No, no, it’s fine,” I insisted, brushing off her concern. “I mean it. I’m really happy for him. Forthem. Truly.”
Not like that would ever be me. But I refused to dwell on that all over again.
Tess didn’t look convinced, but I was.
“Anyway,” I continued, “what does it matter? Derek and I are ancient history, and I won’t be birthing any babies out of my uterus.” I sat up too quickly, my head spinning, which was from the champagne and not my feelings on my inability to have children. “Okay, Future Mrs. Cole Jacobson. There hasn’t been nearly enough dancing on this trip so far. What do you say we get changed and get our asses down to Moulin Rouge?”
Tess jumped up and threw her bedroom door open. “Get dressed, ladies! We’re hitting the streets.”
A round of cheers sounded in reply.
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