Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
But then—
"If Daphne really doesn't remember, she was too inebriated to sign a contract. We can get an annulment." I click into lawyer mode. The facts. The logic. Of course, a quickie Vegas wedding, after a night of partying, is an easy annulment. Of course, that's the rational decision.
Cassie is a smart, logical person, but she's an artist too. She looks at me with concern. She looks at me like I'm a song she's struggling to write. She's not sure if it's a sad song or a happy one. If this is a tragedy or a fun memory. "Is that what you want?"
The answer should be obvious. I'm not an artist. I'm not a romantic.
I do what makes sense.
My entire life, I've done what makes sense.
Why would I want to continue a hasty elopement?
It feels right.
That's all I have.
No logic.
No facts.
No rationality.
Only pure instinct.
That's not a good reason.
"If that's what she wants," I say.
That's not the entire truth, but it's close enough.
I wouldn't ever want to trap her. I would never want to be with anyone who didn't want to be with me.
But especially not Daphne.
Cassie nods with understanding. "I'm sorry."
I let my gaze shift to the bright blue sky. A beautiful day. No clouds. No problems. "Shit happens."
She nods.
I text Daphne before I can change my mind.
Jackson: We can talk whenever you're ready. Don't worry about breaking news to me. If you were too drunk to remember the marriage, you weren't fit to sign a contract. We can annul the whole thing and move on with our lives. If that's what you want.
Cassie glances at the screen, sees I'm texting her best friend, waits for me to finish. After I set the phone face down on the table, she says, "Look at it this way; at least now, Damon and I can't be mad at the two of you ever having sex."
"You can't?" I ask. "Can I get that in writing?"
She shakes her head. "Absolutely not." Her expression is easy, teasing, but I still feel the weight of the betrayal.
Is it all in my head? "You're not mad?"
"No. I gave her my blessing A little while ago. Not that she needed it." She taps her chin. "That would be a fun role reversal, wouldn't it? Instead of you, growling at Damon don't touch my sister, as if I'm your property, I claim ownership of you." She stands up and addresses the room as if she's giving a speech. "No one can sleep with my brother until I say they can."
"You're deranged," I say.
"A deranged feminist icon," she says.
She's right. I've had friends ask my permission to ask Cassie out, as if, as her brother, I had some sort of right to approve or disapprove of her partners.
And I told most of them hell, no. I certainly expressed my distrust of her current boyfriend.
She didn't ask.
She didn't want my opinion.
I was trying to protect her, yes, but it wasn't my choice to make.
Even so—"You sound like Zack."
She laughs. "Oh my god. Do Rosencrantz and Guildenstern know about this yet?"
"Is that a literary reference?" I tease.
She huffs. "I read books."
"It's from a play."
"Even better. Theater is on a stage."
"Your songwriting makes you an expert in theater?" I ask.
"I'm sorry. We can't all read literary icons like John Grisham."
My lips curl into a smile. I walked into that one. "Keep me company until Daph is ready to talk."
"Daph?" She raises a brow. "You call her Daph now?"
"She is my wife." My eyes go to my watch. The one she teased me about. "For a few days at least." I don't have a license in Nevada. I can't oversee the divorce here.
Again, Cassie raises a brow, but she nods sure. "Want to lose at 500 rummy?"
"Do you have a deck of cards?"
"No, but they should have one downstairs."
We take our iced teas and head down to the gift shop, buy candy, trinkets, and a few decks of cards.
When we get back, we fall into an easy rhythm for a few hours.
I forget I married her best friend last night. I order room service, I drink cups and cups of tea, I lose to my sister.
And then I see something that changes things.
An email from my boss. He heard the news from Rip. He saw the pictures.
He's glad I finally tied the knot with my girlfriend.
Does he know about the frisky business on the phone too?
Fuck.
No. Rip wouldn't spell it out.
And even if he did—
It's different if it's my wife.
I know enough about the world to know that much.
As far as he knows, I've been seeing Daphne for a long time.
As far as he knows, I made an intelligent, albeit impulsive, adult decision.
I'm finally a married man.
And I'm finally invited to dinner at his house. With his family.
Next weekend.
This is a career maker.
The thing that will make me partner.