Page 65 of Knotted

Chuckling with a groan, I rub a hand over my face, trying to muster the energy to deal with my baby sister going full throttle on me. “Good morning to you, too, Jess. Or is it evening?”

“Don’t you ‘good morning/evening’ me,” she snaps. “Do you have any idea how maddening it is to be lounging on a beach in Fiji, trying to unwind, only to see your cheesy grin splashed across every headline? And I’m too far away to flick your forehead or squeeze you in a bear hug?” She takes a breath. “And you’re married?”

“Sort of.” I don’t bother mentioning it’s temporary. Jules sucked it up with her family, so I’ll do the same with mine.

I can practically hear the eye roll in her voice. “Right. ‘Sort of.’”

Mark jumps in, “Like ‘I sort of just put in the tip?’”

Jess adds, “Or ‘we’re sort of pregnant’? Wait, are you pregnant?” There’s a strange excitement in her voice.

“Men don’t get pregnant,” I remind her, but she lets the question hang in the air.

The silence stretches, and something hollow expands in my chest until it deflates like a slow leak. “No,” I finally say. Why I have to hide the slight shadow of disappointment is beyond me, but I do.

She lightens the mood with a quick shift. “And, by the way, I already knew you were hitched.”

“How?”

“Mrs. D. finally got a hold of us this morning. Apparently, she’s been leaving a ton of voicemails and emails on Instagram, not realizing that not only are we without our devices, but wenever check our Insta messages anyway. It’s usually full of Insta-stalkers making obscene offers to get with Mark.” She sighs. “She said the wedding was beautiful. Just the Spensers and close friends.”

“I’d intended for it to just be us, but then her parents caught wind,” I admit, feeling a slight pang of guilt because I know Jess is hurt. “It was an impulse,” I say honestly. “Hurting you was the last thing I wanted.”

“Jess will be fine,” Mark cuts in. “You may have had a wedding, but I’ve already gotten an earful about her plans for a mammoth reception, so start thinking of the guest list now.”

If the marriage lasts that long. “Absolutely.”

“Wait,” Mark’s voice cuts in. “The Spensers? There are two Spenser sisters, right?”

“Yup.”

“And are you going to tell us which one? Or keep us in the dark?” Jess asks, and I can hear the curiosity practically eating her alive.

“Somehow, keeping you in suspense feels like Christmas morning.”

She huffs. “Fine, at least give me a hint. Didn’t one of them absolutely hate your guts?” Jess presses, a playful yet accusatory quality to her tone.

“Still does, pretty much. Guess my warm and fuzzy side did the trick.”

Mark laughs, loud and booming. “Please, for the love of everything holy, spare me any mental images of your warm and fuzzy side. But you dated Angelina, right?”

A fact I wish people would let die. “No comment.”

“And the other one is Juliana, right?” Jess asks. “Close to a year apart, but all three of you in the same grade?”

“Yes. And she goes by Jules,” I correct, a little too quickly.

“And don’t forget the third woman in his life,” Mark adds.

Huh? “What third woman?”

They both laugh, and I can practically see Mark’s grin stretching ear to ear. “One Miss Sydney Sun, the writer of that article we had translated. So, who the hell is she, and what exactly did you do to land yourself on her bad side?”

Question of the fucking day.

CHAPTER 27

Jules

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