Chapter Twenty
Quinn
W hen Bram asked me to marry him for convenience’s sake and not out of love, I never expected to have the wedding of my dreams. But as we drive back to Bram’s—our—cottage, I can’t imagine a more perfect wedding.
Bram even surprised me with a first dance. It wasn’t like the dance we shared at Lois and Chad’s reception. He’d held me close and smiled down at me the entire time. To the outside world, it probably appeared as if we were madly in love.
Glancing over at my husband—goodness, will I ever get used to that?—I smile a little at the memory of being in his arms. It’s still way too early for me to be falling in love with him, but infatuation isn’t the right way to describe how I felt as we spun around the dance floor. Comfort. Safety. Anticipation of the future.
The tears didn’t come until Jovie hugged me before we left. “But who’s going to tuck me in and read to me tonight?” I’d tried explaining everything to her after our engagement announcement, but apparently, she hadn’t fully understood that I wouldn’t be there for bedtime.
“Well, Grayson, Miles, or Ella would love to share that with you.”
She frowned, her eyes filling with tears. It had taken a bit, but I’d finally been able to convince her she’d be okay with someone else tucking her in. My heart shattered at her sullen expression. I hate that it feels like I’m abandoning her.
Bram bent down and hugged her. “What if one day in the next couple of weeks, you come and spend the night with us?”
Jovie squealed and threw her arms around Bram. I almost did the same. He has no idea what it means to me that he went through the process on his own to obtain a background check so any foster kids Mom takes in can stay with us.
My mind glitches on that word. Us. Dozens of questions, fears, and images flash before my eyes. What will our future be like? I force it all away when we pull into the driveway, reminding myself God holds our future. He holds us.
Bram smiles at me as he parks. “Don’t move.” Sliding out of the truck, he comes around to open my door for me. He holds out his hand, and I accept, linking our fingers together.
The simple touch sends warmth throughout my body, reminding me of our kiss during the ceremony. It was an amazing kiss, but not nearly long enough.
Bram glances nervously over his shoulder toward Mrs. Graham’s house, his brow crinkling.
“Is everything okay?” I try to look where his gaze has landed, but all the lights are out at Mrs. Graham’s. The poor lady probably went to bed hours ago.
He shakes his head and flashes me a smile, highlighting the dimples on his clean-shaven face. Taking my hand, he guides me to the door. He’s fumbling with the keys to unlock the door when I’m sure I hear a chuckle coming from Mrs. Graham’s house. I choose to ignore it and not bring it up to Bram. He seems nervous enough already.
Bram finally gets the keys working, but before I step inside, he swoops in and lifts me up. I let out a surprised squeal, my arms coming around his neck.
“What are you doing?”
“You wanted a real proposal and a real wedding.” His shoulder lifts under my arm in a shrug as he smiles at me. “I figured you’d want to be carried over the threshold, too.”
His face is so close to mine as I search his eyes. Something flickers in his expression, turning my insides to goo.
“Is this okay?” he asks, uncertainty tinging his voice as his grip on me tightens.
Words won’t come through the thickness of my throat, so I simply nod. Bram carries me inside, shutting the door behind us. As soon as the click of the lock sounds, loud whistling, followed by several catcalls can be heard coming from outside. I turn wide eyes toward Bram, his own eyes growing in size. We stare at each other for a moment in embarrassed shock before his lips start twitching. I can’t hold the laughter in anymore.
“Wa-was that Mrs. Graham?” I say through the laughter, wiping tears from my eyes with the hand not gripping his neck.
Bram nods, unable to speak as he tries to catch his breath between laughs.
“Does she always spy on you?”
“I should’ve warned you,” he gasps out, another round of laughter erupting from his lips.
“Aww . . . she must be lonely.” My lips still twitch with merriment.
Bram takes a deep breath to quell the laughter. “Yeah, she is. That’s why I haven’t been able to say anything to her about boundaries.”
My heart squeezes, and I place my hand on his cheek, the laughter fading away. “You’re a good man, Bram,” I whisper. His gaze roams across my face. A flash of uncertainty crosses his eyes. He shakes his head but doesn’t say anything, his intense gaze boring into mine. My heart picks up speed and I have the sudden urge to let my hand trail across his strong jaw. Breaking eye contact, I drop my hand. He takes the cue, gently lowering me to the ground, and then steps back, putting some distance between us.
“So”— my eyes flit around the dark cottage, trying to wrap my head around the fact that this is my home now. Glancing down the hallway, I freeze. The door to the master bedroom stands open, and I suddenly remember there is one very important detail about the wedding night we haven’t discussed. And why would neither of us think to discuss this very important detail?
Okay, I have thought about it. Mostly at night when I’ve been unable to sleep. But then I buried it deep down, focusing on planning a short-notice wedding, packing, and moving my things.
Panic presses on my chest, but before I can figure out how to ask Bram where he expects me to sleep, he strides past me toward the hallway. “I’m sure you want to change.”
My feet are cemented to the floor. Fear claws its way up my chest and into my throat, causing a lump to form. I try swallowing over it, but my mouth has gone dry. Bram would never hurt me, but I’m not sure I’m ready for this. Not yet.
Bram glances over his shoulder and stops in his tracks. What must I look like right now? He strides back toward me and grips my elbows gently. “Q? What’s wrong?” There’s a look of alarm in his eyes as he rubs his thumbs across my skin.
“I-I-” my voice comes out choked, and I draw in a deep breath before clearing my throat to try again. “I . . . we . . . umm . . . didn’t talk about sleeping arrangements.” Heat pours over my cheeks as I watch realization dawn on him.
“Oh.” He slides his hands down my arms until he’s holding my hands between his own. “Quinn, did you think I would force you?”
The hurt in his voice stabs at my heart. A twinge of guilt courses through me as I breathe out a sigh. “No, Bram. I’m sorry.”
A soft smile lifts the corners of his mouth as his hand comes up to cup my face. “It’s okay, Q. I’m nervous too. We have a lot to figure out. But we’re going to figure it all out together. Okay?”
Nodding against his hand, I try not to notice the way the shadows play against his face, accentuating his cheekbones. The dark room makes his gray eyes appear almost black. I wonder what is hiding behind them. I’m not sure he’s aware he’s still cupping my cheek, but something about the look in his eyes makes me lift my hand and press it on the side of his face, my thumb sliding across his chiseled jawline.
He inhales sharply at my touch, and I suddenly feel insecure about my bold move. Before I can drop my hand, though, he covers it with his own. Closing his eyes for a moment, he opens them and looks down at me. The intensity of his stare sends a shiver through me.
Is he going to kiss me again? What would it mean if he does now that we’re alone? The better question is . . .
Do I want him to?
“Quinn,” he breathes out in a husky whisper, leaning his head closer to mine.
I’ve always scoffed at the phrase “toes curling.” But the way Bram says my name has my toes curling as I inch closer to him.
This must encourage him because he places both hands on my hips, drawing me flush against him. My hands land on his chest, and I can feel the erratic pounding of his heart beneath my palm. It matches my own.
Up until this point everything between us has been sweet and friendly if not a little awkward at times. Now the air around us is charged with something different, and I’m not sure if I want to explore it or run away and hide.
I peek up at him through my lashes, and my chest constricts with the look of longing that flashes across his eyes. Okay, maybe I do want to explore this. After all, Bram is my husband now.
We’re only a breath away, his stormy eyes questioning me, drawing me nearer. Just as I stand on tiptoe to meet his lips, my eyes fluttering closed, Bram’s phone rings. We jump and wrench apart, breaking whatever spell we’d both been under.
Heat floods my chest and my heart is racing as Bram slides his phone out of his pocket, muttering under his breath. He glances at his phone and lets out what I can only describe as a low growl.
Something flutters to life in my stomach at the sound. I place a trembling hand on the spot. What is even wrong with me? I’ve never been attracted to the whole possessive male thing, and even if I were, I’ve never considered Bram to fit that description. But when he lets out another low noise, my automatic response is to draw closer. I place a light hand on his arm, bringing his attention back to me. His eyes lock onto mine, but the openness and desire I thought I’d seen moments ago are gone, replaced with a shuttered and closed-off expression.
“Is everything okay?”
Bram straightens, shifting away from my touch. Whatever had been about to occur between us is gone in an instant. Cold wraps around me. Two weeks ago we were simply friends. Now, I’m feeling disappointed that our almost kiss had been interrupted. I’m a total wreck.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Bram replies. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”
I bite my lip to keep from blurting out all of the thoughts bouncing around in my head. Everything is a jumbled mess at the moment. I need a good night’s rest.
Bram stops at the door across from the master bedroom, flips on the light, and moves back so I can enter.
The walls are a soft yellow, and based on the smells of fresh paint, he’d done this just for me. There’s a lovely quilt on the queen size bed along with a pile of throw pillows. Some of my pictures from home are hung up and my dresser and vanity have been placed in the room. Bram has even filled the bookcase with the books I’d sent over.
The sight of all my things in this room has warmth flooding my chest. I helped pack all my belongings and saw they were loaded, but between work and helping with my siblings, I haven’t had the time to unpack them. I figured I could do that once I moved in.
I turn to stare at him in wonder. “You did all this?” Will his kindness ever fail to surprise me?
“Well, Titus helped,” he admits quietly, rubbing his neck.
My throat closes up with emotion. “This is—wait. Titus helped?” My head snaps back around to him. “Didn’t he think it was odd that you were making a separate room for me?”
Bram winces and stuffs his hands in his pocket. “Umm . . . he may know.”
“He . . .” I trail off for a moment, my brain trying to catch up. “Titus knows? About us?”
He clears his throat, not meeting my eyes. “And Cyrus.”
Groaning, I sit on the edge of the bed and bury my face in my hands. Bram kneels in front of me. “It’s okay, Quinn. They aren’t going to tell anyone.”
I sigh. “Julie knows, too.”
He arches a brow. “You told her?”
“She figured out some of it, but yes. I told her everything.” I shrug. “I’m sorry, Bram.”
He chuckles. “She’s your best friend. It’s okay.” Standing, he shuffles his feet, appearing uncertain. “Okay. Well, I guess I’m going to turn in for the night. Make yourself at home. I mean, this is your home. Of course. Umm . . . if you need anything, let me know,” he stumbles over his words as he practically runs to the door.
“I’ll be fine, Bram. Thank you.”
Nodding, he takes another long look at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulps. “Goodnight, Q.”
“Goodnight, Bram.”
When he shuts the door behind him, I lie back on my bed and stare at the ceiling, replaying the events of the day. Specifically what had happened in the entryway. My cheeks still feel warm where his hand had been. Bringing my hand to touch the same spot, I close my eyes as a slight shiver works its way through me.
Am I already falling for my husband?