Page 49 of When Hearts Surrender

The four quiet words shake me to the core. “What?”

Cole gives me a sad smile. “I should’ve done more for her—she looked just like you after she got married, sad…miserable, like she made a mistake. All the red flags I ignored because she told me she was fine.”

He takes my hand. “I’m not saying this to scare you, but I told myself then I wouldn’t stand by and do nothing again. I-I’m sure you know I like you, Belle. You’re beautiful, smart, funny, and kind. And if you were happy tonight, I’d keep my mouth shut and drown my sorrows at the open bar.”

Wetting my lips, I try to wrench my hand from him, but his grip tightens. “Cole, this is inappro—”

“Hear me out. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but Belle, you deserve more. You deserve so much more than standing in the middle of your reception with tears in your eyes while yourhusbandignores you. You deserve more thanhim. Anyone but him.” There’s a hard edge to his voice I’ve never heard him use before.

My eyes burn at his words. How is it my feelings are obvious to others but not to the one man I can’t stop thinking about?

Dammit.

“Just say the word. You don’t even need to be with me, and I’ll take you away. Anywhere you want. Belle…Belle, just look at me.” Cole pulls my hand and I look up at him.

Shaking my head, I twist my lips in what I hope is a convincing smile. “We’re only friends, and I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. It’s my wedding day and I’m happy.”

“No. Bullshit. Your smile is fake, you don’t look hap—”

“Get your hands offmy wife.”

His low, growly voice courses through my body like a caress. I feel his imposing presence behind me.

Cole’s eyes harden and fill with a hatred so cold, I almost shiver. He stares at Maxwell, who’s standing so close I can feel his body heat transferring to mine.

I tug my hand out of Cole’s clutches and move back, just a smidgen, into the hard body of my husband.

Maxwell curls his arm possessively around my waist, his fingers kneading my stomach like a brand, and my core clenches at this blatant display of ownership.

Cole’s eyes snag on the movement, his throat working as he swallows. A muscle in his jaw twitches, and he extends his hand. “I’m Cole Whelan, Belle’s good friend from the shelter she volunteers at.”

“Maxwell Anderson,her husband.”

My useless heart skips a beat at his words.

Maxwell grips Cole’s hand, the whites of his knuckles showing, and the men stare at each other for a few seconds, the tension so thick I could cut it with a knife.

An old man in a tux—I think he works with the family—steps up beside Maxwell and glares at Cole.

Cole’s eyes narrow, his nostrils flaring, and he turns to me. “It appears I’m not welcome here. But Belle, remember what I said. Youdeservemore.”

Without another word, he spins around and stalks away, the old man quickly following, clearly escorting him out of the ballroom.

Maxwell breathes heavily behind me and I finally turn and look at him. His slate eyes are almost obsidian and his lips twitch in barely restrained anger.

He leans in and seethes, “Is this how it’s going to be between us, Belle? A few hours married and you’re already cavorting with other men?”

Indignation chars my insides. “Cavorting?What are you, ancient? He’s my friend, Maxwell. I’m allowed to have friends.”

“He doesn’t look at you like a friend.”

“You’re being an idiot.”

“And you aren’t holding up your end of our bargain. Or have you already forgotten our vows at the church,” he sneers, his eyes cold.

I raise my hand and take a breath. “I won’t stand here and let you accuse me of something I haven’t done. If you have a problem with ourarrangement, you never should’ve offered or agreed to it in the first place. So please, take your surly attitude and shove it!”

He steps toward me and I find myself backing up slowly until I hit the wall by the ballroom doors.

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