Page 174 of The Wrong Husband

"Oh." I swallow as disappointment hits me again. For a minute, I thought he meant to seal the deal with me—by marrying me. Once again, I wring my hands together. Only, he reaches out and places his hand on mine. I freeze.

Instantly, he pulls his arm back. "I’m sorry, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Umm… You kissed me… I think we’re way past that."

"Hmm." He drags his thumb under his lip. "Is the fact I kissed you the problem, or that your response took you by surprise?"

I slowly raise my gaze to his. "Both."

He nods. "Thank you for your honesty. I kissed you because I could not bear to see how unhappy you were. And I was pissed off that… That knobhead cheated on you. I wanted to do something to make it better for you. And I thought the best way was to show him what he was missing. I knew that the moment he thought there was someone else interested in you, he’d regret his actions. So—" He shrugs one massive shoulder.

"He was pissed off, all right. And it didn’t hurt at all that he watched us kissing," I say with satisfaction. "But it doesn’t change anything." Anger squeezes my chest. Frustrations knots my guts. I blow out a breath. "Best I call city hall to cancel our appointment and send out emails to let people know the wedding isn’t taking place."

A burning pressure builds behind my eyes, hot and sharp. I’m going to hate myself by the time this is over. Every call. Every email. Every humiliating explanation.

“I wish you didn’t have to go through that,” he says quietly. But there’s a thread of steel running through his words, one which makes me blink.

“There’s no way around it.” I rub my temple, jaw tight. “I was paying for the wedding. Should’ve been my first clue about the kind of man he really was.”

My head drops back against the chair. “And then he slept with my bridesmaid. My best friend. God—” My voice catches. “I still can’t believe she’d do that.”

He studies me for a beat. “What if you didn’t have to make those calls? Or cancel everything?”

I blink at him. “Then I’d lose the downpayment on the pub. And trust me, I can’t afford that.”

His eyes narrow slightly, something unreadable flashing across his face. “You wouldn’t have to lose anything. You could still have the reception. Somewhere better.”

Frustration squeezes my chest. “Can you please stop talking in riddles already?” I frown. “I’m in no condition to figure out what you’re saying.”

“I mean exactly what I said. You could still have the celebration. Just…not the wedding you planned.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” I swipe at a tear trailing down my cheek. “Why would I go through with a reception for a wedding that isn’t happening?”

“Maybe, because it doesn’t have to be canceled at all.” His voice is calm. Steady. Loaded with something I can’t quite name. “Not if you marry someone else.”

I sit up straighter. “Okay, you need to stop. I don’t know what this is, or what game you’re playing, but it’s not funny.”

He leans in just enough to make my pulse stutter. “It’s not a game.” He holds out his hand.

And automatically, and probably because my brain is too tired to make decisions, I follow his lead and place my palm in his. Instantly, mine is dwarfed by his much bigger one. His skin is rough with calluses on the fingers that drag at mine. Little pinpricks of pleasure whisper over my nerve endings.

It was a mistake to kiss him because now, I’m so aware of his nearness. Of how, with me seated, and him on one knee, we’re at eye-level. That’s how massive he is. I feel so much smaller in comparison, but he’s never made me feel unsafe.

In fact, he’s always been gentle around me. Like he’s very aware of his size and does everything in his power to make me feel secure. And I do feel protected by his bulk. The way he put himself between me and my ex, as if he were using his body to shield me from him. Like he’d do anything to protect me. My head spins. Why is my mind going in this direction? He’s my boss. We have a professional relationship—which just went out the window when he kissed me. The enormity of what happened begins to sink in.

1. I’m no longer getting married.

2. My boss. Kissed. Me.

3. Now he’s looking at me, like… It meant something more than just a way of saving my pride and helping me get back at my ex.

My heart leaps into my throat. I try to pull my hand from his, but his holds tightens. His gaze intensifies, and I feel like I’m caught in a spiral of emotions emanating from his eyes.

"What… What are you trying to tell me?"

His features grow serious. More serious than I’ve ever seen in all the time I’ve known him.

"Marry me."