I won’t think about the way he makes me feel, like I’m waking up from a long, sad sleep, or question the wisdom of how much I want to kiss him again. And I’m certainly not going to take a closer look at how desperate I am to drag him into a bedroom, slam the door, and ravish him until we’re both aching with gratification and too exhausted to blink.
Lucky for me, we’re almost to my parents’ house. I’m certain Mom and Dad’s reaction to my completely-out-of-the-blue marriage will banish every last sparkle of lust from my bloodstream.
I tap my fingertips on the armrest of Nash’s truck, my rhythm growing progressively urgent as we pull onto the street where I grew up.
“Nervous again?” he asks.
“Terrified is a better word.” I let out a ragged sigh. “I’m pretty sure my mother is going to kill me.”
“Why’s that?”
“Mom loves weddings. Like really loves them.” I jog my knee up and down as the house comes into view. “She nearly had a heart attack when I told her I’d eloped the first time. Now that I’ve done it again…” My heart jumps into my throat and lodges there, making it hard to breathe.
And what if she knew that both of your weddings were dirty, rotten lies, Aria? What then? the inner voice demands.
“I’m not sure I can do this,” I squeak as Nash parks the truck at the curb. “What if she never speaks to me again?”
“Come on, now. It won’t be that bad.” His hand settles on my knee, sending another insidious sizzle of awareness flowing through me.
I can tell he’s trying to offer comfort, but his touch is so far from comforting, it isn’t even funny. His warm hand on my bare skin only makes my anxiety spike higher.
How am I going to do this?
How on earth am I going to get all touchy feely with Nash in public without letting the way he affects me bleed over into our relationship in private?
I’m not going to last a day at this rate. I’ll be begging him to touch me by bedtime, and well on my way to making a fool out of myself by tomorrow morning. And in the meantime, my mother will be devastated, Daddy will think I’m insane, and when it’s all over, the entire family will feel sorry for me.
Again.
The “Poor Aria” show will be renewed for another season, and the shame of being pitied by everyone I love will make the last vestiges of my pride curl up and die like a slug covered in salt.
I can’t do this.
This is a mistake, a terrible mistake.
“Breathe,” Nash says, his low, honeyed voice penetrating the panic haze. “You made a decision that’s in the best interest of your daughter. That’s what this is all about. And your parents are going to get that.”
I sip in a deeper breath, nodding.
He’s right. This is about Felicity. As long as I keep my focus on my daughter, everything is going to be all right.
“Now let’s go in there and convince your family we’re a happy, healthy couple who are going to provide your daughter with a wonderful home,” Nash says. “It might not be easy, but think about it this way: after today, fooling the rest of the town will be gravy.”
I glance his way, taking in his earnest expression and kind eyes, and something flutters behind my ribs. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was with someone who really cares about me. But I’ve seen Nash go from sweet to nasty before. I know better than to let his comforting drawl and encouraging words convince me to drop my guard again.
I know better, but that isn’t always enough to keep my stupid heart in line.
Your heart has nothing to do with it. Keep your heart closed up tight and your legs closed tighter and do what you need to do to keep your child from being forced to grow up with a full-time parent like Liam. Woman up, lady. Your daughter needs you.
I sit up straighter. “All right, let’s do this.” I reach for the door handle. “We’ll be so damned sweet together we’ll give the entire family a toothache before we’re done.”
“That’s my girl,” Nash says, grinning as he slams out of the driver’s side and jogs around to open my door.
The words send another fluttery feeling whispering through my chest, but I ignore it.
I’m not his girl, I’m my own woman, and Felicity’s mother, and I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to defend my little family, even if it means lying like a dog to the rest of the people I love.
As is so often the case with the things we dread, the afternoon progresses with far less disaster than I’m anticipating.
After the initial moment of stunned shock in the wake of our big announcement—followed by tentative congratulations from Lark and Mason, giddy squeals of excitement from Melody, happy-ish tears from my mother, and a tight-lipped handshake for Nash from Dad—the afternoon is relatively…pleasant.