Chapter 10 #2
I nod, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. He sounds so confident. So capable. All this competence is kind of seductive. The determination, too.
“What’s your parents’ number?” Liam barrels on. “Is it better if I talk to your mom or your dad?”
“Hang on.” I hold up a hand. “I need to explain the new husband with the fancy lawyers to them first. They don’t even know you exist.”
He pauses, thumb hovering over his screen. “If you’re not in a hurry, let’s push it to tomorrow. Lawsuits don’t move this fast anyway. But if you could ask your parents to forward the papers they’ve been served, my lawyers will get started on a strategy.”
“I’ll ask my dad.” My head swims with the speed at which things are moving.
“Perfect. Do you have any documents with you? We’ll need them for the marriage license.”
“I have a photo on my phone, but the originals and everything else are back at Matt’s house.”
Liam nods, pensive. “I’ll send my guy to get what you need.”
“You sound like a mafia boss now.”
He smirks up at me. “I like to be prepared. This is my number.” He lists off digits, barely giving me time to type them into a new contact. “Text me the address and a list.”
“Can your guy grab anything?” I ask, a petty thought blooming in my mind like a dark flower.
“Why? Should he get a U-Haul? Do you have a bunch of stuff that needs moving?”
“No heavy furniture. But I have my clothes at his place and a bunch of kitchen stuff. But he has this fancy European wine opener that took forever to import,” I say, shoving the phone in the robe’s pocket. “He doesn’t know how to use a regular one. I want it.”
Liam stares at me for a beat, and then a wicked delight sparks in his eyes.
“We are taking the wine opener,” he agrees. “Anything else? The espresso machine? The dog?”
“We didn’t have a dog. Just my clothes, my other stuff, and the opener. Oh, and my laptop if Matt hasn’t destroyed it with a hammer already. And my car.”
“Consider it done.” He moves toward the door, then stops. His hand goes to the back of his neck, and he does something completely unexpected.
Liam Rockwood blushes.
It starts at his collar and creeps up to his ears, a faint pink he can’t seem to control.
“I’ll leave you to get changed,” he says, not meeting my eyes. “I picked out a few options. The resort boutique had a decent selection, but—” He clears his throat. “They didn’t have any underwear. I bought you a bikini. For, you know, underneath.”
He says this to the floor.
I’m once again very conscious that I’m naked under this bathrobe. But now also that he’s been aware of this the entire time. That somewhere in his shopping expedition, he had to think about what I’d wear beneath my clothes and landed on “bikini” as the least awkward solution.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Sure.” His voice is gruff. “I’ll wait downstairs.”
He bolts out the door before I can ask what he will be waiting for. To chat more? Go somewhere?
I take a second to press the heels of my palms over my eyes.
How has this become my life? Then I cross to the armchair and rummage through the bags.
The clothes are nice; like his, they fit the golfing aesthetic, but at least nothing is bridal.
Liam has included everything: socks, shoes, a jacket, even a small case of cosmetics with basic makeup.
And at the bottom of the last bag, as promised, a bikini.
Black with white polka dots. A simple design that’s 100 percent better than going commando.
The entire selection is thoughtful. I’m weirdly touched.
Then I shake my head, remembering he probably had the concierge pick everything and only made the delivery.
Before I get dressed, I reply to my dad.
Peyton
Thanks, Dad. I’m okay. A friend is helping me out. I’m safe. I might stay away for a bit while I figure things out. Can you email me copies of the papers Matt served you? I’m going to handle it. Don’t worry. Love you.
I can’t tell my parents I’m getting married one day after running out on my previous engagement. Text: Hey, thanks for the support. And by the way, I married a billionaire hotel heir to pay our legal fees. See you at Thanksgiving! They’d think I’ve lost my mind. They’d be right.
To them, Liam has to stay a friend. I’ll tell them I got a job offer to explain the sudden relocation.
That’ll buy me time. Then, I’ll introduce Liam as the new boyfriend, and eventually husband.
I’ll invent an elopement in a few months.
It’ll still look too fast, but at least it’ll be believable.
They’ll never find out when or how I got married.
They live in a different city and don’t know anyone from Blue Crescent Harbor. I can control the narrative.
My phone vibrates in my hand, making me jump. A picture of Emma and me in college, drunk, wearing plastic tiaras, pops up on screen.
I can shield my parents from the truth, but she’s the one person I can’t hide anything from.
I stare at the green answer button. Confessing to Emma means making it real. Admitting I’m jumping from the VanCamp frying pan into the Rockwood fire.
I let out a long, heavy sigh that deflates my entire body and slide my thumb across the screen.
“Hello?”