Page 44

Eden

H anna buries her face in her hands.

“I’m sorry,” Rhys says. “I should have thought about what would happen if he saw us together?—”

“No,” Hanna says. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.

None of this is anyone’s fault, except Granddad’s, and there’s nothing we can do about that.

” She addresses the distressed oak planks of Matias’s law office floor.

“If you weren’t already dead, I’d…” She shakes her head, turns to Matias. “Okay, so now what?”

“The easiest thing,” Matias says, “if you don’t want to put the land at any risk or to involve yourself in what might be a protracted period of litigation, is to comply with the will.”

“No,” Rhys says.

He’s wearing a linen dress shirt, rolled to the elbows, and he crosses his (beautiful, sculpted) forearms across his (I’ve seen it shirtless; it’s Roman statue–worthy) chest.

“No one is putting Eden under any pressure to be anywhere near Paul Graves.”

I get warm and tingly at both the dark alpha rage in his voice and the protective gesture, but also?

“I can take care of myself,” I remind him.

He closes his eyes. “Fuck,” he says. “I know you can.”

When he opens his eyes, they’re full of something. Heat. A dark intensity I like way more than I want to. “But I don’t fucking want you to have to, okay? I don’t want you anywhere near him and the idea of a wedding.”

More warm tinglies. “Even if I’m happy to do it.”

“No,” he says. “No Paul Graves.”

“Hear me out,” Matias says, holding up a finger. “What if it’s not Paul Graves?”

“That’s what I was thinking, too,” Hanna says.

Matias turns to Rhys. “What if it’s you?”

Oh.

Ohhh.

It’s not the worst idea ever.

“No,” Rhys says.

If possible, his bitten off no is even harder edged than the last denial. Definite. Nonnegotiable.

The quick stab of a small sharp blade between the ribs.

But that’s on me. A hundred percent. Because I let myself forget who Rhys is.

I take a deep breath.

It’s good to be reminded of how hopeful I’ve let myself feel about this thing with Rhys. Hopeful enough that for a second there, I actually felt disappointed. And wounded.

Rhys believes in marriage like he believes in rattlesnakes and jumping spiders.

He told me so himself. And the one time he got within spitting distance of changing his mind, he couldn’t go through with it.

He didn’t even want to kiss me until he made sure I knew exactly how much he would never, ever want something long term and serious again.

We’re enjoying a few weeks of smoking-hot sex before Rhys goes back to being New York’s favorite antihero. That’s all.

And if I’ve caught a few feelings along the way?

That’s my bad.

I tune back in to the present moment. Rhys is saying something to Matias. “…she’s had a marriage and an engagement go south. She just got jilted. The last thing she needs is to be effectively forced to marry someone she doesn’t want to marry, for reasons that have nothing to do with her.”

I register that he’s standing up for me, which is super nice. He’s also right. I’m in no place to contemplate Matias’s crazy-ass plan, either.

Right.

Reset.

“Seconded,” I say firmly. “I’ve had enough marriage and almost-marriage for a lifetime.”

Matias nods. “Yeah, I figured you’d both hate that idea. No way New York’s favorite bachelor goes down that easy. I just thought I’d give it a stab.”

“Try again.” Rhys scowls.

“Isn’t your brother Shane enga?—”

Rhys is shaking his head. “They’ve got enough on their plates. Their public wedding is already planned, and their private wedding is well underway. There’s no way I’m going to ask Ivy to alter her life again for this goddamned will.”

“And there’s no one else who can get married?” Matias glances down at his notes.

“No one’s getting married who doesn’t already want to get married,” Rhys says.

Matias nods again, eyes flicking to his friend’s face. “Noted.”

Hanna sighs. “Rhys is right. No one should have to get married because my grandfather decided he knew what was right for me. I don’t want to be the person who dictates someone else’s future any more than I want mine dictated.

And I’m not sacrificing what someone else wants so I can get what I want.

That’s not what this is about. I’m sure my grandfather didn’t want that, either.

Did you, fucker? ” she inquires of the floor, which is silent in reply.

“Right, then,” Matias says, collecting papers into a stack. “I’ll start pulling together the will contest case.”

“Do we—do we have a chance?” Hanna sounds scared.

Rhys’s eyes snare on her face. His expression is as bleak as his sister’s.

I reach my hand out and take his in mine. His is cold, mine is hot. I wrap my fingers tight, and he shoots me a grateful look. There’s a small landslide in my chest before I remind myself of what I’ve just relearned: No matter how it feels, this can’t last.

“There’s always a chance,” Matias says. “It’s a pretty ridiculous setup. The only reason it’s been enforceable so far is because you all complied, voluntarily. Which might make it harder to argue that all of a sudden, it’s problematic. But…we’ll give it a shot.”

“Let us know what we can do to help,” Hanna says.

Matias smiles. “Of course. There will be plenty for you to do if it comes down to court time. In the meantime…” He shrugs. “I’d suggest gathering any evidence you possibly can that your grandfather’s decision-making was compromised at the end.”

“Did you hear that?” Hanna demands of the floor. “My turn.”