Page 79 of Sweet Nothings

Archer grins excitedly. “That would be great.”

“I’m interested in seeing some number and data reports. I’d also like it if you gave me a run down on exactly what kind of tech you create and what you envision for the future.”

“I can do that.” Archer’s face flattens to a serious expression.

“This calls for a celebration, don’t you think?” Micah claps his hands together, laughing.

“A celebration?” I ask cautiously, mostly because my baby brother’s idea of a celebration is to go on a two-night bender in Barcelona.

“Yeah.” His eyes bounce enthusiastically between the three of us. He snaps his fingers and points to me and Laurel. “No, you know what? We should celebrate with a post nuptial party.”

I turn to Laurel before turning back to Micah. “What do you mean?”

He waves his hands. “You know, since you guys sprung your rushed wedding on the city, maybe it would be good to throw a party. Like the ones Dad used to do every time he’d strike a billion-dollar deal.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know.” Why is Micah suggesting a party for me and Laurel when he knows the circumstances of our wedding? He doesn’t know Laurel and I actually have feelingsfor each other. As far as he’s concerned, we’re playing the part right now.

Uncertainty and uneasiness wades in my stomach. I don’t want to be like my father. Showing up here to Eclipse, at his castle away from his kingdom, has shown me just how determined I am to not follow in his footsteps. Before I married Laurel, I’d felt like a hypocrite. Marrying her was exactly what my father wanted me to do, and it’s what he would have done if he were put in a similar position. But as if a major fuck you to my father, I married the one woman I’d only ever dreamed of marrying.

I still don’t know her reason for agreeing, but when I look at Laurel, I decide to shove my questioning of her motives aside because she’s the only woman to ever knock the wind from my lungs with a single glance.

“We should do it,” Laurel says, wrapping her hand over mine that’s still resting on her thigh.

“Really?” I ask, shocked she would agree. Between work and whatever it is that holds the sadness in her gaze, I didn’t think Laurel would feel up to planning a major party.

“Yeah. I think it’ll be great. Plus, it will show everyone you’re still running Harding Holdings with just as much strength if not more than your father did.”

“I agree with Laurel.” Micah wags his finger in her direction. “She’s a smart woman.”

“Fine,” I breathe out, turning to Laurel, then I snap my head back to Micah. “But we’re doing it at the house in the Cape.”

I feel Laurel stiffen beside me. She hasn’t said as much, but I know she still questions why I keep the history of that house under lock and key, and why others like Olivia or Micah look at me as if I’ve suddenly grown a third eye anytime I bring the house up.

“What?” I ask Micah.

He stares at me, wide eyed. He snaps his mouth shut and shakes his head. “Nothing. I don’t know what’s changed with you, Lennon.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just, with Dad’s asking for his funeral to be there, and you and Laurel getting married there last month, I didn’t think you’d want to go back so quickly.” Micah’s blue-gray eyes soften, turning down in sympathy. “Considering before then you hadn’t been there in six years.”

Laurel’s chest stills, and her hand slowly pulls from mine. I tug her back, not wanting her to let go. I still haven’t told her the significance of my mother’s house on the Cape, but I figure this party will be the perfect opportunity.

“I know.” I nod, straightening my spine and lifting my chin. “But what better way to celebrate a marriage than to hold the celebration where the ceremony took place.”

“You have a point.” Micah grins.

“I know I do.” I turn to Laurel and give her thigh a gentle squeeze. I’m hoping if I finally let her in and tell her what the house on the Cape means to me, she’ll finally letmein. All the way.

TWENTY-FIVE

Being a billionaire’s wife has its perks.

Just like our wedding, Olivia has managed to plan, arrange, and execute a full-scale celebration, only this time, it isn’t a small, intimate wedding. Over five hundred guests have been invited. String lights run the length of the long driveway. They run in rows over the expanse of the backyard facing the ocean. It’s the third time I’ve been to this house, and I have yet to see it this lively. This bright.

Hundreds of tables are set across the yard covered in white linens. They blow with the warm summer breeze coming off the ocean beside us. The sound of the waves crashing against the large, jagged rocks below the cliff are muted by the music playing through the outdoor speakers. Caterers and wait staff circle the tables, offering our guests appetizers and drinks. I’m standing on the balcony overlooking the entire yard.

My simple black gown blows in the breeze, the slit parting over my thigh. I’ve noticed this style of dress is Lennon’s favorite. Maybe because it reminds him of my wedding dress. Or it could be the easy access, knowing I never wear any underwear when I know I’m going to be around him.

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