Page 15 of Bride Bargain

I trail off, frustration leaving a metallic tang in my throat, because I’ve always struggled to read people, always lived with that nuisance—but whynow? Why with Claire?

I’m getting this wrong, messing things up when the stakes have never been higher, and the worst part is that I don’t even understand why.

I hate feeling like a fool. It’s rare, but so deeply unpleasant.

“You look unhappy,” I say slowly, testing out each word. “A few minutes ago, you seemed fine. Better than fine. But now, afterward, you look unhappy. Am I wrong?”

Claire sighs and lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. It’s not an answer, not anything at all, and Christ, this is frustrating. My wife sits up fully, blushing as she drags a cushion into her lap to cover up.

Hiding herself fromme.I fight the urge to snatch that cushion and fling it at the wall.

“Tell me,” I grit out instead, scrubbing my mouth and jaw again with my wrist, trying to rub away Claire’s essence. It’s so hard to focus when I smell her pussy with every breath. “Tell me exactly where I went wrong.”

“You didn’t go wrong, Elliot.” Claire sounds sad. Why the hell does she sound sad? “It’s just… this is a lot, you know? I’ve wanted this for years—” she blushes fiercely, but raises her chin, refusing to take it back, “—and now it’s finally happened. And it was great, so wonderful, really, but it makes me wonder why you didn’t want me before.”

Ah. This, at least, I can fix.

I exhale, chest loosening with relief.

“I always wanted you.” My words are clipped, perfunctory, because this is so obvious. Claire’s a smart woman, but she can be so very blind sometimes. “Ever since that first math class, I wanted you, and everyone knew it. I didn’t try to hide it.”

Claire splutters, shoving a stray lock of blonde hair out of her face. “What are you talking about? You hid it from me, Elliot!”

I frown. “No, I didn’t.”

She’s sitting bolt upright now, her spine rigid.

“You never touched me,” Claire says.

“No.”

“You never tried to kiss me.”

“No,” I agree.

“You never asked me on a date.”

No… not explicitly, I suppose. But Ididbuild my whole life around taking care of Claire, supporting Claire, making her life as easy and pleasurable as she’d let me. She’d never accept my money, so I built out my business and hired her as my P.A. She’d always wanted to leave our boring suburb and live in the city, so I set up my company headquarters here. I mean… how obvious can a man be?

“I didn’t know if you wanted those things, and I couldn’t risk misreading the signals.”

Claire growls with frustration, her fingers flexing like she’d dearly love to throttle me. “Elliot?No oneknows that stuff going in. Not for sure. You can make your best guess, but you’ll never be certain. That’s why it’s so scary.”

Hm. Is that true?

The traffic rumbles outside, and my aching knees scream as I sit with that thought for a moment, examining it from all angles. Claire waits for a moment, watching me think, then sighs and rummages for her leggings.

She’s pulled them half on when I finally speak, my voice cutting through the tense silence. “You’re being a hypocrite.”

Claire snarls and yanks her leggings all the way up, hopping to her feet. I follow slowly, bones creaking, my whole body stiff from kneeling for so long. When I reach my full height, Claire bristles with anger down there, like a beautiful, mad little honey badger.

“Why amIa hypocrite?” she demands. Her fingers are flexing again, like she wants to prod me in the chest.

“Because you’ve wanted this for a long time too. You said so yourself.” Even in the midst of the worst conversation in my life, the memory of Claire saying that warms my insides, buoying me up. I inhale deeply and prop my hands on my hips. “But you didn’t say anything either, hence the hypocrisy.”

“Hence,” Claire mutters, digging her knuckles into her eyes. “Hence. Don’t give me one of your smart guy lectures right now, Elliot.”

I scowl. “This is how I speak.”

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