Page 18 of The Retreat

Beatrice talks the entire time about plans, decor ideas, and food, who to invite, and what the public story will be for why we got married in Vegas without telling anyone.

By the time we get back in the helicopter, we’re both half-way to drunk and mentally drained. Which means I want dick in the worst way.

“You know you’ll have to kiss me at that party, right?” I lean into Owen’s space, and he grabs my jaw, holding me a breath away from his mouth.

“Only if you earn it.”

EIGHT

Owen

“Owen,” my mother snaps.

I look up, trying to find her in the crowd. I’m stuck in the middle with people streaming around me, and I finally spot her to the side. I make my way through the traffic and mutter an apology.

“What are we looking at?”

“Flowers, Owen. I swear, your head has always been in the clouds. We are trying to get a sense for what you like.” She hands me a big round flower but immediately snatches it back. “Not hydrangeas. They scream poor. We need roses. Something classy.”

“What flowers do you like?” the wedding planner asks, but mother steps between us.

“Don’t ask him. He doesn’t know.”

“Why am I here then?” I say through my teeth.

She ignores me, but the wedding planner gives me a sympathetic smile.

I pull out my phone.

Hus-bear: My mother has hijacked this.

I notice my name after the text sent. For fuck’s sake.

My Sweetest Husband: Is it bothering you?

My Sweetest Husband: Do we need to take it back over?

Hus-bear: Did you change our names in my phone?

My Sweetest Husband: I plead the fifth.

My Sweetest Husband: Do you need rescuing?

Hus-bear: how did you get into my phone?

My Sweetest Husband: you left it open last night.

Hus-bear: I don’t know where I am. You can’t rescue me.

My Sweetest Husband: I shared your location too.

My Sweetest Husband: I’ll be there in ten. Meet me outside?

I smile to myself and turn on my heel. I find my way out to the street and Colin pulls up a few minutes later in a cherry red Porsche.

It feels a little like a fairytale.

I glance over as I close the car door. A prince in a Porsche and I can only laugh. “Who’d you steal this car from? And don’t say my brother. He’d never be caught dead in a Porsche.”

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