Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ROSIE

I lean against the side of Anthony’s car. My heart is thumping so hard I can feel it in my ears, and sweet adrenaline sings through my veins. Still, I have enough sense to be worried about how Anthony will react.

Is he going to be pissed?

Oh, he’s definitely going to be pissed.

I mean, he should be—I basically just proposed to him in front of his ex-fiancée and then accepted on his behalf. That’s not the kind of thing someone should do on a whim. Especially considering that I still don’t know the outcome of the fingerprint fuckery.

But that kiss…

We’d agreed to decide what came next after our first kiss, and that’s what I did. He kissed me, his lips demanding and confident, and it felt like a promise I wanted to take from him and hold in both my arms. It felt like getting five gallons of ice cream when you’d ordered a single sundae. It felt like riding a unicorn through the crisp winter air.

I glance back, and he’s coming to me, his strides eating up the gravel lot. In another few seconds, he’ll be here. Maybe he’ll yell at me. Maybe he’ll say he doesn’t want to see me again, and he’s going to have to spend the next week cleaning up the mess I made for him. Maybe he’ll admit that I’m too unpredictable and wild for a sort-of fake, sort-of-real wife.

But I don’t have time for any more maybes before he reaches me. His gaze is intense, and I feel it everywhere. Across my chest, down my arms and legs. Definitely between them. “I’m sorry,” I say in an undertone. “So sorry. I kind of got carried away, and—”

He wraps his hands around my hips and whirls me around in a circle, surprised laughter floating from me. I hold my hands out to either side like I’m flying. “What are you doing?”

“Getting carried away,” he says, and then he dips me like he did in our dance the other night, one hand weaving into my hair while the other stays on my waist. My heart is racing, my whole being filled with the need he’s shaken to life inside of me.

He leans over me, his face inches away, his breath my breath. “I was desperate to kiss you in the warehouse. I thought about it all night afterward.”

“Did you touch yourself?” I ask, because my filter has taken a few too many hits today.

Raw heat fills his gaze and burns me. “That’s between me and my hand.”

“I’d prefer to be between you and your hand,” I say, my body still suspended by him. I’m completely in his control in this moment, and I like it. I trust him.

He lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me, and it feels like my whole body lifts up to him, offering itself, wanting him to move his mouth over every inch. Wanting this to be real.

Maybe what’s growing between us is as artificial as Sparklebutt the Unicorn. Maybe he never would have looked at me twice if he didn’t have to get married in a week. But, again, I know what I’d like to believe.

It’s too bad that what I’d like to believe has gotten me into trouble so many times, especially because the feeling of Anthony’s hand flexing around my hair, tugging slightly on the roots, while his mouth moves over mine is intoxicating. And then his tongue dips into my mouth and meets mine, and it feels like everything around us slips away until nothingness. All that exists is the two of us, kissing, and…

“Aw, look, honey, they can’t keep their hands off each other.”

It’s the voice of Nina’s golden retriever boyfriend.

I don’t particularly care if they watch us, but I feel Anthony pull away. He stands me up and wraps an arm around me, using his other hand to wave at them.

He doesn’t look embarrassed, though, and he definitely doesn’t apologize.

“See you after Christmas,” he says. “Enjoy the pig roast.”

For a split second, Nina’s expression is honest. She looks like she’d enjoy roasting me over an open fire and then serving me up to Wilson’s family, whom she obviously hates too. But then she gives us a big, blank smile and says, “ Actually , we were wondering if you two had plans for this afternoon.” Wilson has a comical look of surprise, but he doesn’t interrupt her. “We’d just love to spend some more time getting to know…” She taps her chin. “Oh, dear, what was your name?”

“I’m Rosie,” I say, leaning into Anthony.

“How cute . I’m Nina, of course, and this is Wilson.”

“I’d gathered.”

Wilson slings his arm around Nina, mirroring our pose. “What do you say, Anthony?”

Anthony looks down at me, his expression pained. He might as well mouth the word “no.” It’s obvious he wants to talk to me privately. He’ll expect to discuss our…well, our engagement. But I still don’t know if it’s possible for us to get married. That depends on what Nicole’s able to do in Pennsylvania. And while I’d trust her with my life, she’s more of a loose cannon than I am. It’s possible it won’t work out, and Anthony will regret the day he met me, just like most people regret the day they met Nina.

Maybe I’m a coward, but I can’t face that yet. I want him to keep looking at me the way he’s been looking at me for the past two weeks. The thought of losing that fills me with a fluttery, panicky feeling.

Besides, someone put up that website countdown and someone called the cops the other night. Nina and Wilson are prime suspects. We’d be derelicting the hell out of our duty if we didn’t take the chance to interrogate them.

And who am I kidding?

Nina may think she’s about to have fun with me, but I’m the one who will be having fun. She needs to be schooled about what happens to people who mess with the people I care about.

Turning back to them, I say, “You know what? We do have plans, but there’s always room for two more! We’re going to do some painting and then grab lunch.”

“Oh, it’s one of those wine and paint things?” Wilson says, nodding, then turns to Nina. “That sounds fun, honey. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“It sounds delightful ,” she says flatly. “What’s the address?”

“Why don’t you just follow us?” I say with a grin. “I think mapping apps have ruined our natural sense of direction, so I never use them. It’s all up here.” I tap my head.

“How interesting .”

She probably thinks I’m demented now, but I can’t afford to let her Google the address before she gets there.

She’ll come up with an insipid excuse if she finds out where we’re going before we get there. It’ll be harder for her to leave once she’s there.

In fact…

I glance up at Anthony, who looks very much like Mr. Darcy at the beginning of Pride & Prejudice , when he can’t be bothered to pretend to be nice to anyone and no one is better than tolerable. Understandable. I certainly would not want to spend an afternoon hanging out with Roman and his wife. But I need to give Nicole more time.

So I grin at the other couple. “Actually, you know what? Why don’t you carpool with us? It’s so much better for the environment. I watched this documentary the other week about baby seals. You’ll drive with us to save a baby seal, won’t you?”

Nina looks like she’s at a loss for words, but Wilson is already nodding eagerly. He’s possibly the most biddable person I’ve ever met. I wonder if he’d join a folk band with us if I asked him nicely.

“Oh, good,” I say, beaming at him. “I knew you were an environmentalist. I could see the hunger for justice in your eyes. Well, let’s go! There’s no time like the present. You’ll let me drive, honey?” I add, turning my face up to Anthony. His jaw is flexing, his dimples a mere memory. I’ve thrown a grenade at his day, his life, and I snuggle a little closer into his warmth as an apology…and also because it’s where I’d like to be.

He surprises me by leaning in to kiss my forehead. When he raises his chin, there’s a twist of wry amusement to his mouth, thankfully. He shakes his head slightly and says: “Seems to me you already are. Let’s see where it takes us.”

“Come on.” I wave them over. “Come. The backseat is so roomy, and it’s not even covered with junk like my backseat. Anthony’s tidy. But you must know that, Nina.”

“You don’t like letting anyone drive your car,” she says to Anthony as she shifts her bag to her other shoulder and walks toward us, Wilson the Golden Retriever following in her wake.

I cast a glance at Anthony, who shrugs. There’s something hard in his expression as he says, “I trust Rosie.”

He probably didn’t mean for that to hurt.