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Provided she ever agrees to marry me at all.

I took a chance and ordered invitations. I don’t need many since the wedding will be small. They arrived quickly and I made it very clear in the verbiage that the event will be a surprise to the bride. I fucking hope these twenty people, mostly casual friends and a few work-related folks, can keep their mouths shut. I mailed them yesterday.

We didn’t have time to order bridesmaids’ dresses, so Keeley and Harlow are coordinating on finding two dresses that are as close to that cornflower color—which I now know is blue—as they can find. I picked up a wedding band for myself, chose a tuxedo, then got Maxon, Jamie, and one of my college buddies to a fitting.

Keeley, with Britta’s “help,” has locked down all the visual elements of the ceremony. I have no doubt that will be perfect.

The marriage license situation is under control. If Britta will sign it before the ceremony, my former client’s daughter will make sure everything gets done and legal.

I’m not sure what to do about a honeymoon. We live in Hawaii. How much better does it get? But I need to think of something. We deserve time to ourselves to cement our bond. We’ll take Jamie with us since Maxon and Keeley will be newlyweds and won’t need a toddler cramping their love life. Besides, I’m not sure I can do without the little guy for long.

Head spinning, I use one of the two spare minutes I have to rub together and call Keeley. She answers right away.

“Are you freaking out?” she asks without even saying hello.

The woman knows me well. “Yes. This wedding is in two weeks.”

“I know. Mine is in eight days. Gah!”

“Sorry. I know you’re under a lot of pressure, too.”

“Yes, but mine is controlled. Everything is planned. So unless something goes horrifically wrong, I’ll be fine.” She hesitates. “Do you have any idea where Britta’s mind and heart are?”

“No.” And it’s killing me. She’s been reserved, harder to read, for the last month—since her lunch with Makaio. I regret that we’ve had so little time for us. I need to push everything else aside as much as I can or I’ll forever regret that I didn’t take full advantage of the one opportunity I had to win her back. “But I called Eleanor and talked to her.”

Finding the courage to pick up the phone and talk to Britta’s mother… I won’t lie, that took some time, and I had to search for my balls. I could only imagine how much that woman resented what I had done to her daughter.

We talked for almost two hours. Initially, Eleanor was chilly to the point of being curt. I apologized, laid my cards on the table, and told her about the wedding with which I was planning to surprise Britta. After that, our relationship thawed to something almost friendly. Makaio, the idiot, hadn’t even thought about incorporating Britta’s mother into their wedding. Eleanor didn’t have the money to fly to Hawaii. My angel didn’t have it, either. And I know her. Not having her mother there for her wedding would be something she’d always regret. A woman wants her mom on her wedding day. Keeley assured me of that. Hers is coming from Phoenix, along with her stepfather, Phil. So I bought Eleanor a first-class ticket to Maui.

She’ll see her daughter get married, regardless of which groom Britta chooses.

I simply have to push work aside long enough to figure out how to make that groom me.

“Why don’t you send Jamie over here tonight with Harlow for dinner and a movie or something? You and Britta need a break.”

Normally, I’d hate to impose, but I don’t have a choice now. “Thank you. I owe you big.”

Her light laugh is a familiar comfort in my ear. “I’ll remind you of that someday when your brother and I need a babysitter.”

Fifteen minutes later, my sister texts me that she and my son will have a grand time with Uncle Maxon and Aunt Keeley and she’ll stay gone as long as she can.

I thank her. Then I start strategizing.

At the end of the day, Britta and I hop in the car. She looks beyond exhausted.

“Jamie is with the rest of the family. Maxon picked him up from daycare.” Since he’s on the approved list. I’m still not, and I try not to let that bother me. “It’s just us this evening.”

She sighs tiredly. “I’d be disappointed if I had any energy.”

“I’m with you. Dinner?”

“Whatever you feel like.”

I take her to a casual seafood place. It’s not much to look at but the food is incredible. Best of all, it’s not crowded, so it won’t be too loud to talk and we shouldn’t be distracted by anyone else.

After we’re seated and we order, I don’t waste any time. I feel as if I’ve pissed away too much of it already. “Tell me what you’re thinking and feeling, angel.”

“Besides beat down by the pace of work right now?” Her shoulders sag tiredly. “Overwhelmed maybe. What about you?”

I swallow. “Our time together is running out, and I’m not sure if you’re any closer to knowing whether you can love me again and want to marry me.”

The waitress sets down our drinks. Since we already ordered food, she slides away unobtrusively. I take a sip of my beer and watch Britta down half her wine.

“We are running out of time. I know.” She licks her lips. “Let’s be real. I don’t think I ever fell out of love with you. I should have. I tried to. I just couldn’t.”

I sit up straighter and reach for her hands. “If that’s how you feel, you can’t marry Makaio. Because you know I love you, too.”

“In the past, I’ve always made decisions with my heart. When I was young and didn’t have responsibilities, that was great. In fact, what we had was magical and epic…while it lasted.” She withdraws her hands from mine. “But maybe the time has come to think with my head. I need someone I can depend on. I need a family sedan, Griff. You’re a Ferrari.”

Is she saying no? After I’ve already planned our wedding? Granted, she doesn’t know that, but I’m trying to go all out and prove how much she means to me. She’s got to give me a goddamn chance. “A Ferrari still gets people where they need to go. I’ve been dependable as hell the last thirty-eight days.”

“Yes, but it’s barely a month. And we’ve been drowning in work for the last few weeks.”

“I know. And I hate it. But that’s not my fault.”

“It’s not,” she assures. “I’m still hung up for some reason. Like I said, I’ve forgiven, but I can’t seem to forget.”

“After you saw Makaio and he made you cry, I didn’t lose my temper or push you for more information. I’ve been trying to back off and let you make your own choice.”

“I didn’t say you haven’t changed.” She looks down at the table, tracing a pattern on the clear plexiglas. “But maybe I have, too.”

Enough to marry a man who won’t love her enough to put her and our son first? Nope. I won’t believe that. “What am I not giving you that you need?”

Britta falls quiet and cocks her head as if she’s debating the wisdom of her next words. “All of yourself.”

I rear back. Of all the things I imagined she’d say, that wasn’t it. “What? I’m with you all day. All night. By your side when we tuck Jamie into bed. I sleep beside you. I wake up next to you—”

“I don’t mean your time.”

“You know I love you.”

She sighs. “I don’t mean your heart. I mean whatever it is that makes you guarded and angry and keeps you from really trusting me. Despite all the time we’ve spent together, I’m not sure I know you any better now than I did three years ago. You know all about me, my life, my past. Since we moved into the Stowe estate, I’ve spent nearly every moment with you, risking everything to see if we could truly have a future. I’ve been thinking—hoping—you would open up and erase my doubts. You haven’t once offered to tell me what makes you tick.”

I sit back and stare, covering my shock with a swig of beer. She sees through me. Despite how well I thought I’d recovered or how thoroughly I’ve been

hiding the decades-old crap, Britta isn’t fooled. How much can I tell her without freaking her out?

It’s clear I have to say something or she may walk out on me for good.


Tags: Shayla Black More Than Words Erotic