Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
VALERIE
“ANYWHERE ELSE?” I grip the pen, waiting for Fynn’s attorney to point out yet another spot for me to initial the prenup I’ve been staring at for the better part of an hour.
The older man peers through his readers as he flips through the final few pages. “I think we’ve got it all, Miss Berdard.” His eyes lift to meet mine over the wire rims. “Are you positive you don’t want someone to look this over for you?”
I give him a reassuring smile. “I’m positive.”
His gaze lingers on me for a second, his thoughts written all over his face. He thinks I’m a fucking idiot. But that’s only because he doesn’t know what I’m getting out of this deal. “If you change your mind this can always be renegotiated right up to the wedding.”
I continue smiling. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Not for long because that window he’s referencing will close in under an hour .
After studying me a few more seconds, he finally signs his portion of the document before passing it off to the notary for her endorsement. A little of the tension I’ve been living with since driving away from Minneapolis evaporates when the stamp is punched into the paper. Even more of it slips away when he slides the documents into his folder, tucks it under his arm, and ducks out of Fynn’s office, leaving me alone with my husband to be.
I give him a quick smile out of reflex. I feel different around him after our trial run at his condo yesterday. Shy and self-conscious.
Even though the memory of what I did—what he did—has my cheeks flushing and my thighs clenching.
Fynn’s gaze drifts down my body, following the A-line of the off-white, lace dress I chose for today. “You look lovely.”
A little of my unease softens at his compliment. “Thank you.” I motion to his tailored suit. “You look very handsome.”
I’ve never seen him in a full suit, only slacks and a button up with the sleeves rolled past his forearms, and now I’m torn between the two. Both are equally attractive and both send my belly flipping with anticipation.
Or maybe that’s just him.
I clear my throat when I realize I’m staring at him like some kind of lecher. “It’s nice that your attorney could write something up on such short notice.”
Fynn smiles, tucking one hand into the pocket of his pants. "It wasn't about being nice, Love." He eases back to prop against the edge of his desk. "It was about getting paid an exorbitant amount of money."
That has me chewing on my lower lip, guilt tugging at my belly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cost you—"
"Don't apologize, Valerie." His voice carries a hint of sharpness. "This benefits me as much as it benefits you, remember?"
I nod, even though I'm not sure I agree. "I remember."
I convinced myself we would gain equally, but now I'm not so sure. I get to live in a multi-million-dollar condo overlooking the water. I'll avoid being sucked back into the life I was born into and used, spending the rest of my life unloved and unwanted.
I also get more of what happened yesterday.
Fynn only gets me, and if I can’t repair his shredded reputation, the scales won’t come close to balancing out.
He studies me a second longer before checking his watch. "We have an hour. Would you like to get lunch?"
My stomach drops. I wasn't expecting to be faced with the task of accompanying him in a public place so soon—especially not before we’re actually married—and I'm worried. What if my presence makes things worse? What if he decides there isn't anything in this for him and goes back on our agreement?
Then I’m fucked.
And also unfucked. Both are bad.
But I can't say no, so I managed a weak smile. "That sounds nice."
"Excellent." Fynn straightens from the desk and starts to walk toward the door. He pauses before turning back to face me. "I almost forgot." He pulls a small blue box from his pocket and holds it out to me.
I stare down at it, not quite believing what I'm seeing. "What is that?"
He flips the lid off, before dropping the velvet box inside into his wide palm. "It's your wedding set." A flick of his thumb and the hinged lid opens to reveal the biggest, sparkliest diamond I've ever seen. The center stone alone is impressive, but it's also flanked by a row of equally sparkly diamonds embedded in the white gold band. A second band sits against it, fitting perfectly into place, the inlaid diamonds mirroring the ones on the engagement ring. I stare at it a second before shaking my head. "You didn't have to buy me a ring."
I knew there would be some sort of jewelry between us, but in my head, I just imagined simple bands. There's no reason to blow a bunch of money on a marriage that’s simply for convenience.
Fynn pulls the engagement ring free. "And how would that look, my beautiful bride?" He takes my left hand, lifting it before sliding the ring onto my finger. It's a little loose, but surprisingly close to the correct size. Fynn rubs one thumb along the underside, moving it around. "We'll have to get it sized, but it'll do for now."
I swallow hard, staring down at the gorgeous monstrosity. My eyes jump to his. "I didn't get you a ring."
He smiles, the curve of his lips dragging my attention to them and what they did to me yesterday. "Yes, you did." He reaches into his pocket and pulls a small velvet bag free. After turning my hand over, he drops the contents into my palm. "And because you know me so well, and love me to the very depths of your soul, you knew I’m not against a little bit of flash in my jewelry."
I pick up the ring with my free hand, looking over the thick, white gold band inlaid with diamonds. I never would have expected something like this to look masculine, but it does. "I have good taste."
Fynn takes the ring from me, dropping it back into the bag before stashing it in his pocket, along with the box still holding my wedding band. "Of course you do. You're marrying me."
I laugh, feeling a little lighter now. The awkwardness I felt over yesterday and the tension from the whole prenup, lifts just a little.
Then I remember we're going to lunch, and I swallow hard.
Fynn offers me his arm. "Shall we?"
I start to hesitate, but then I remember all the things he said to me yesterday when I stepped out of my comfort zone. How wonderful his praise made me feel.
And I want more.
So I straighten my shoulders and my spine, lifting my chin. I've spent my whole life trying to get someone to see I had value outside of what I could offer them. Wanting someone to be impressed with me. To acknowledge how hard I was willing to work.
Fynn did and I don't want to let him down.
So I loop one hand through his arm, letting him guide me through the office space he rents in one of the sleek commercial buildings lined along downtown Sweet Side. We’re all the way to the main floor, walking through the vestibule serving as a buffer from the heat of outside and the air-conditioned inside, when a possibility occurs to me. I glance up at the structure as we reach the sidewalk outside. The design doesn’t seem modern, but everything about it is new and sleek. "Do you own this building?"
Fynn glances my way. "I do. It’s one of the first I bought and restored when I moved here."
I continue taking it in as we walk along the front of the building, seeing the sharp lines and minimalist landscaping with new eyes. "You did a very good job."
Fynn spares me another glance. "That, my darling bride, is why I make the big bucks."
The American saying sounds hilarious in his accent, and has my head tipping back on a long laugh. I drop my temple to his shoulder, continuing to chuckle. "Then I would say you definitely earn them." I'm finally starting to relax. To feel a little more comfortable with this new life I'll be living, when a gasp pulls my attention to the woman coming our way.
Her eyes are wide as she stares at us, gaze bouncing from Fynn to me, then back to Fynn again.
I don’t want her to focus on him. I want her focusing on me, so I offer her a bright smile. "Good afternoon." I glance up at the clear sky. "It's beautiful out, isn't it?"
Her mouth drops open, gaping like a fish. Then it snaps closed again. She gives us one more befuddled look before scurrying on her way.
Fynn turns to watch her go over one shoulder. "Huh." His eyes come to my face, looking me over. "I think you might be onto something, Val." One finger comes to tip my chin, lifting it higher in the air. "You are a very smart woman, Darling." Then he leans down and kisses me. It’s soft and sweet and nothing like the kisses we shared before I was forced to tell him I had, in fact, approached him for a reason, but I'll take it.
Hopefully we'll get back to the other kisses at some point.
His face lifts from mine and he smiles. "Let's have lunch and go make this official then, shall we?"
I smile back, feeling more confident than I did a few minutes ago. "I think that sounds like a fantastic idea."
For lunch, Fynn takes me to a beautiful, upscale eatery located in the heart of Sweet Side. I haven’t been to many places around town, but even if I had, this wouldn’t have been on my list. Not only because it’s expensive as hell, but because I would've had no one to go with. Crystal would have taken one look at the menu and walked out when they didn't have grilled cheese or chicken strips.
I can't really blame her. Grilled cheese and chicken strips are pretty freaking good.
But there are quite a few things on the extensive menu that sound equally delicious, and I'm having a hard time choosing. I peek at Fynn across the table, lowering my voice. "Have you been here before?"
His eyes lift to meet mine. "Many times."
"Good." I scoot my menu to the edge of the table. "Then I need you to pick something for me, because I can't decide. "
One brow lifts. But that's the only acknowledgment I get. When the waiter approaches, Fynn orders for both of us, choosing one of the items I'd been considering for me.
I guess now I have to add fancy lunches and a husband who knows what I like into my column of perks our marriage will provide.
While we eat, we chat about all sorts of things. The kind of topics most people cover on a first date, except we’re doing it at what is essentially our rehearsal dinner.
I discover Fynn is allergic to bananas, even though he loves them. His favorite movie is called Hot Fuzz. This is his first engagement, even though he's been in long-term relationships before.
I try to keep my confessions carefully curated. There are a few things about my past that would likely have him rethinking our agreement, so I keep things vague. I tell him the thing I miss most about Minneapolis is the museums. That I'd never even seen the ocean until I arrived in Sweet Side. And that the day he left me on the beach I did leave with two phone numbers.
His brows jump up at that one. "I shouldn't be shocked. You were by far the most attractive woman on the beach that day."
I know he's flattering me, but I still eat it up. "You only say that because you didn't have time to see all the women on the beach. You were too busy running away."
He takes my teasing as I intended, and offers me a wickedly handsome smile. He lifts my left hand, fingers toying with the ring he put on it less than an hour ago. "And look where it got me." He brings my hand to his mouth, and nips at my fingertips. "I'll have the most beautiful woman on the beach in my bed tonight."
The reminder of the expectations for tonight—mine, not his—sends my stomach flipping and excited butterflies bouncing around. "As long as you don't snore. Then she’ll be in your bed and you'll be on the couch."
Again, Fynn seems to enjoy my teasing, his wicked smile from earlier holding. "I'll be sure to give you a few good reasons to keep me in the bed then."
The fluttering in my belly turns to quivering, and it clenches tight before dropping directly south, starting a slow throb between my thighs.
"Are we going back to your condo as soon as we finish the ceremony?" I try to sound casual. Like I'm just acclimating myself with the plan for the day, but I think the breathiness of my words might give me away.
That assumption is confirmed when heat flashes in Fynn’s blue eyes. "I love how eager you are, Darling." He tips my palm toward his lips, flicking his tongue against my skin before pressing a kiss behind it. "Unfortunately, I have a few errands to run this afternoon." His teeth gently rake across the heel of my hand. "But, rest assured, I will complete them as quickly as possible."
I stare at where he continues nipping at my skin, the memory of his mouth on much more delicate areas of my body making my skin hot.
Fynn's eyes slide up my arm to my face and he swears under his breath. "Stop looking at me like that, Val, or I'm never going to get anything done. "
"Sorry." The need to apologize is ingrained in me at this point, and it slips free all on its own.
Fynn swears again. "Don't apologize." He glances around our table before dropping his napkin over his plate and shoving back his chair. He stands, pulling me along with him. "Come on."
I trail behind him as he weaves between the tables, leading me toward the back of the crowded restaurant. A few eyes do come our way, but none of them seem to carry the vitriol I've seen directed his way before.
Maybe he is right. Maybe my plan is a good one.
He pauses outside a door tucked into a dark hall that branches off the main dining room, again looking both ways before pushing it open and pulling me inside. It's a surprisingly small space. Racks filled with linens and utensils line the walls. I open my mouth to ask what we’re doing in here, but Fynn's lips seal off the question as he pushes me back against the door, the hard lines of his body pinning me in place as one hand drags up the hem of my skirt.
Every muscle in my body turns to liquid as his tongue slides against mine, hot and wet and demanding and exactly like it was yesterday. Wrapping both arms around his neck, I work on staying upright as my fingers grip his hair in an attempt to find purchase as everything spins out around me.
His mouth trails down my neck, the nip of his teeth sending goosebumps racing over my skin and pulling my nipples tight.
"Is this what you were thinking of at the table, Val?" His hand skims over my belly before pushing into the front of my panties, fingers unerring as they slide between the lips of my pussy. He groans. "It was, wasn't it?" His skin glides against mine. "You're so fucking wet for me." One long finger presses into my body and he groans again. "So tight.” His mouth reclaims mine as his finger slides free, dragging up to circle my clit in quick efficient movements that have me coming apart in minutes. His mouth swallows down my cries as my body clenches around nothing.
But there won't be nothing there for long. Tonight I will be filled, likely to capacity based on what I've witnessed.
As I slump against him, Fynn pulls his hand from my panties, bringing it to his mouth to suck his fingers clean. I watch, transfixed. It's an erotic site and has a now familiar heat flaring to life even though I just got off.
Fynn rights my dress, capturing my mouth in another deep, demanding kiss before pulling back. "It's time to go get married, Darling."