Page 73 of Bride Under Contract

‘They did. And I think I could have stayed for longer. But then my aunt in New York decided she needed to be seen doing her part.’

He told her about his mother’s sister, and how she really wasn’t ‘mommy material’.

‘That lasted a couple of years before she shipped me off, back to boarding school in England. Jonathon’s always looked out for me and, as expensive as he is, he has never once taken advantage...’

‘Do I have to like them now?’

‘No, just understand where they’re coming from.’ He played with the edge of her cami. ‘Get undressed?’ he suggested.

‘I honestly can’t be bothered.’ She liked being sad in his arms.

‘Nor can I,’ he admitted. ‘I’m sorry you’re upset about your mum.’

‘Thank you.’

She knew he’d possibly shared with an agenda, but it was a nice agenda—to give a bit of himself, to know her some more.

‘I’ve been worried the whole time I’ve been away that she’ll think I’ve forgotten her. I never gave much thought to her forgetting me.’ She took a breath, but it shuddered. It was five staccato gasps just to get one breath in, and it was the closest to crying she’d come. ‘I don’t want to be forgotten...’

‘I know.’

There was something else that had upset her during the discussions today. ‘Why are you having a vasectomy?’ she asked.

‘I’ve been meaning to.’ She watched as his hand moved to his crotch, as if to protect it, but then moved away. ‘Though it didn’t seem urgent until the other night.’

She lay there, trying to tell herself it was ridiculous to be upset about something so sensible—something he clearly wanted. Or rather to think about babies he didn’t want, and certainly not with her.

He picked up her hand and looked at her ring and she knew he was about to change the subject again—but at least she understood why. It was too painful for him to recall.

‘Why the hell did you choose this one?’

‘Fireflies.’ Grace smiled and let him talk about nothing rather than desperate hurt. ‘When we were just a one-night stand...’

‘Seriously?’

‘Mmm...’ she said. ‘Then you had to go and propose, and bring in lawyers and stylists.’

‘I thought you wanted stylists?’

‘Not any more,’ Grace admitted. ‘I miss us.’

‘Do you?’

He looked down at her pale leg, lying over his. ‘I miss your coral toenails,’ he told her.

‘So do I.’ She liked the thud-thud of his heart and how neither of them moved. ‘I love coral... I love colour.’

Carter frowned, unsure how to respond. If he should respond!

‘So why all the...?’

‘They suggested I start with a neutral palette and then add my own signature.’

‘You already have your own signature.’

‘I don’t think so?’

‘Oh, you do,’ he assured her. ‘Well, you did.’

---