Page 28 of The Retreat

“And now, the couple we’ve all been waiting for, misters Owen and Colin Godfrey!” a man’s voice says through a speaker.

“Why am I taking your last name?” Colin asks.

“You don’t really have to. That was my mom I’m sure,” Owen mutters.

The double doors in front of us open, lights and confetti assault us as I grab Owen’s hand and pull him through. With a big smile on my face, we wait and wave as people cheer.

I love the old feel of this building that was originally a bank back in the 1920’s. Of course the decor in here probably cost a fortune, but since I’m not paying for it, I don’t care. It’s classic, timeless, sleek, sophisticated. Everything Beatrice requires.

“Kiss!” someone yells, spurring others on to yell it too. Owen wraps an arm around me, then spins me into a dip. I grip onto the lapels of his jacket, scared he’ll drop me for a second before his lips are on mine.

My heart is pounding in my ears, and the only thing I can focus on is Owen. His hold on my body, his mouth against mine, and the way butterflies flutter in my stomach. This man is going to drive me straight to a padded cell.

The kiss doesn’t last long and isn’t anything obscene since people are around, but my head spins just the same when he brings me back to my feet.

“Well played.” I breathe.

A server offers us champagne flutes that we both take. There are so many people in here. People who want to talk to us and shake hands. Luckily for Owen, I’m a people person, but I doubt he’s going to make it through this unscathed.

We mingle, moving from group to group, shaking hands, kissing cheeks when it’s expected, and make small talk.

I’m. Bored. To. Death.

It’s been about an hour when the tinkling of metal on glass sounds somewhere in the room. The people around us smile and look at us expectantly.

Oh no.

Without hesitation, I grab Owen’s face and kiss him quickly. Everyone cheers and claps, and I force a smile to my face. I’m almost afraid to look at Owen. Did he know about this? Doubtful.

Is this what it’s like to be a show pony? Here, do a trick so all the people can see how cute you are. Ridiculous.

“Excuse us, for just a second.” I reach for Owen and drag him with me toward the hallway that leads to the bathrooms.

“What the fuck was that?” he demands once we’re alone.

“I could ask you the same thing! She’s your mother!”

“What?”

“She planned this! Every time someone hits their glass, we’re expected to kiss.”

Owen groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. Oliver and Isaac shove through the door, getting our attention.

“Everything okay?” Isaac asks, looking between us.

“Why didn’t you have to do this?” Owen demands.

“Do what?” Oliver asks.

“This kiss every time someone rings a fucking bell.”

“Because I didn’t allow Mother to plan any part of my wedding.”

“How much longer do I have to stay?”

“We have another like five hours,” I tell him.

“This is like forcing me to like you by desensitization.”

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