“Yeah, well, I love him.”
“Do you? Because sometimes I worry that you don’t really see him. And I don’t get why you two had to rush into anything. That usually doesn’t end well for couples.”
Hanna let out a dreamy sigh. “I think it’s romantic the way he decided that, hey, he was done fighting what he felt for her and then he just set out to make her his in every way.” She gave me the stink eye. “I also think it’s unfair that you won’t give us details about what he’s like in bed.”
“You’ll just have to use your imagination,” I said.
“Oh, I do. Lots. I’ll try to stop it now that you’re married to him, but it won’t be easy. Not gonna lie, I’m jealous.”
“Speaking of jealousy … How’s Heather taking all this?” Ashley asked me.
I shrugged. “I haven’t seen anything of her since the barbecue.” I still hadn’t dealt with her shitty email, but I figured it could wait. Compared to everything else that was happening, it wasn’t important.
“She’s going to shit a brick when she sees that iceberg on your finger,” said Ashley. “You know how much she likes her bling.”
Hanna swirled her glass. “It’s a shame she has to be that way.”
It was. Mostly because the situation hurt my foster parents so much. “The people who matter are happy for me. That’s what’s important to me.”
When I’d visited my father to assure him that I was okay after the burglary, I’d also been careful to monitor how he reacted to my being married. I wanted to be sure he was truly good with it. It appeared that I’d been worrying for nothing. He seemed incredibly content about the whole thing. He loved the copy of the wedding photo we’d brought him, and he’d almost died with laughter on watching the recording of the ceremony.
I’d also visited Melinda and Wyatt, who eventually settled when they saw I wasn’t an anxious mess about the break-in. Like Simon, they were thrilled to have a copy of the wedding photo, claiming they loved how “happy” I looked. They’d also laughed their asses off watching the recording of the ceremony.
With tears in her eyes, Melinda had proclaimed, “It was just perfect. So much smiling and laughing.”
She’d somehow managed to talk Dane into throwing a post-wedding party sometime in the next few months. I’d insisted it wasn’t necessary, but then Wyatt had jumped on board, they’d all started exchanging ideas, and the idea of a celebration took on a life of its own.
I’d later told Dane that I could talk my family out of it, but he’d said a party would help make the marriage look more real. He’d also announced that he’d hire wedding planners to take care of the details.
“Why was Dane in such a rush to get married?” asked Ashley. “Are you pregnant?”
“No, of course not,” I said. “He just doesn’t see a need to wait. Look, I get that this sounds fast to you. But to us, it’s been years in the making. As Melinda once pointed out, he and I were like a platonic couple. But now we’re annoyed with ourselves for taking so long to make the jump; we didn’t want to waste any more time.”
It was a rehearsed response, and it appeared to have mollified Ashley a little. That didn’t please me, though, because I hated that I was deceiving her.
“All right, I get it,” said Ashley. “I still think it wouldn’t have been so bad for you two to wait a little longer, but I won’t mention it again.”
I let out a long breath. “Thank you.” Hearing the buzzer, I said, “Ooh, my stuff must be here.” I said my goodbyes, promised to call them again soon, and then left the video call.
When I made my way to the foyer, Dane was already there. “I’ll tell the movers where to unload your things,” he said. “Are there any boxes you want brought to your room?”
“Yes. When I talked with the packing team over the phone, I told them what stuff I wouldn’t be putting in storage. They said they’d clearly mark each of those boxes as ‘non-storage.’”
He nodded. “I’ll order the crew to move the marked boxes upstairs and leave them on the landing.”
Because he couldn’t very well tell them to put them in a separate bedroom from his, considering we were married.
It didn’t take long for everything to be unloaded. The process of unpacking didn’t take long either. Even with the help of Dane’s personal shopper, I didn’t have enough clothing to fill the walk-in closet, so there was ample space to put my miscellaneous items.
The shopper was a freaking clothes genius. She’d noted my size, asked a few questions, wrote down my budget, and then came back later that same day with all kinds of clothes. Personally, I wasn’t convinced she’d stuck to my allotted budget, and I suspected that Dane might have given her extra money to spend, but they’d both sworn he hadn’t.
By the time I was done unpacking, the room officially had my stamp all over it, especially with the photos I’d placed on the mantel, the sunrise alarm clock on my nightstand, the blanket I’d slung on the recliner, and the perfumes I’d added to the vanity desk.
A short while later, there was a knock at the bedroom door. Knowing it could only be Dane, I called out, “Come in.”
Walking inside, he glanced around and settled his gaze on the empty boxes. “I was going to ask if you needed help unpacking.”
“Nah, I’m good. What should I do with all the boxes?”
“I’ll take them downstairs. The cleaning staff will get rid of them tomorrow.” He twisted his mouth. “I have a few things to do and a conference call coming up, so I won’t be having dinner until late. You’ll be eating alone.”
“Oh. Okay.” I flapped my arms slightly, strangely feeling a little lost all of a sudden. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, I guess.”
He inclined his head, nabbed the boxes, and then disappeared, leaving me alone. I had the distinct feeling he was going to leave me alone a lot.
Chapter Thirteen
“Thank you,” said Miley, as I rested the tray of drinks on the coffee table in the formal sitting room.
Smiling, I sank onto the sofa beside Dane, opposite her and her colleague, Chris, who were wedding planners. “Is that your portfolio?”
She handed it to me. “It is. Feel free to read through it.”
“Thank you.”
A week had gone by since Dane had promised Melinda that we’d throw a post-wedding celebration. He hadn’t spoken of it once in the past seven days, so I’d thought he’d either forgotten about it or changed his mind. It was only an hour ago, when he informed me that the planners would soon be arriving, that I realized I was wrong.
Well, we didn’t really communicate much over non-work stuff. I’d been right in thinking he’d leave me alone a lot. Oh, sure, I saw him every day, but that was mostly at o-Verve.
We rarely shared meals. He usually woke much earlier than I did—he didn’t seem to sleep well—so I was often in the kitchen alone of a morning. There had been occasions where we’d eaten dinner together, but that was mostly when we stayed late at o-Verve.