Page 70 of First Comes Marriage

Her fingers hesitated over the name on her phone screen.

What if she was overreacting? What if she and Sebastian could actually make it work? What if the man who growled filthy things in her ear and brought her to ecstasy over and over again didn’t pull the rug out from under her?

And what if he does?

She couldn’t risk it.

She jabbed the name on the screen and fired off a quick text to her father.

Sabrina:I’m ready to talk about that post-nup.

***

“Jesus Christ!” Jamie slammed a hand over his heart and glared at Baz, who had been too deep in Lemon and Thyme’s bookkeeping software to even notice his friend had come into the back office at the restaurant. “When did you get here?”

“About an hour ago.”

Jamie glanced pointedly at the clock on the wall across from his desk. The restaurant didn’t open for the dinner rush for another two hours.

“Is something wrong with the books?” Jamie asked, coming into the office and dropping into the seat on the other side of the desk.

“Just wanted to get a head start.”

Jamie eyed Baz warily. “Did you and Sabrina have a fight or something?”

“Everything’s fine.”

“Right. That’s why you’re hiding out inmyoffice inmyrestaurant.”

Baz held up the shiny silver Monopoly dog without missing a beat in his endless scroll of the last month of the restaurant’s expenses. “You had something of mine.”

Jamie laughed, a deep, full laugh that set Baz’s teeth on edge for some reason he didn’t want to examine too closely.

“Did you really spend twice as much as usual on cleaning last month?” Baz asked.

“Baz, come on. You’re not here to look at my finances.”

Baz closed his fist around the Monopoly dog and continued clicking through the accounts on the computer screen.

Jamie sighed. “You leave me no choice. I’m going to have to call in the other guys.” Baz glared at him over the top of the computer monitor. “Or you could tell me why you’re really here.”

“Fuck you.” Baz pushed away from the desk and stareddown his friend, turning that little metal dog over and over in his hand.

The truth was, he wasn’t sure why he’d come here. He’d woken up in bed with Sabrina, their legs entwined and her perfect ass pressed to his groin, her auburn hair and her wildflower scent all around him, as he had every day for the last few weeks—and he’d panicked. He hardly recognized himself anymore. Baz didn’t do sleep overs. He did meaningless sex, no emotions involved, and certainly no cuddling. But after the last month, it had gotten harder to remember that he wasn’t the guy who woke up after an incredible night with a woman feeling raw, like his insides had been scraped out—he wasn’t the guy who had sex and woke upfeelingat all.

He'd thought a shower would take care of it, washing her scent from his skin, but the entire time, he’d heard her voice in his head.I never wanted to get married again ever,andMarriage is a trap.Words he’d been trying like hell to forget but that kept pushing their way to the forefront of his mind, growing louder every day. Each time he remembered her words, that restless feeling grew until he had to get out of there, away from the bedroom where their clothes still lay scattered across the floor, away from the wall of windows overlooking the bay where anyone could have seen them that first night, away from the condo that smelled like her and the sound of her soft breathing in his bed.

But he hadn’t been able to stay away for long. Guilt gnawed at his bones for leaving her without saying goodbye, for acting like she was another hook-up when she was his wife.

Even if she didn’t want to be.

Or did she? She’d sculpted a clay version of his cock. She slept in his t-shirts. And then there was that thinly veiled conversation about having children. Great, now he was picturing it—little redheaded kids with her freckles and his eyes and he wasn’t even sure if he wanted that, but he alsowasn’t sure he didn’t want it, so what the fuck was he supposed to do with that?

His own office had been too quiet for too long, and it was hours yet until Sabrina would be home from the studio. He needed to get it together before he saw her again. He’d intended to go to the vineyard, to camp out in Ethan’s office, but somehow he’d found himself at Lemon and Thyme instead, using his key to enter the restaurant through the kitchen and helping himself to the dark office at the end of the hall.

Now, looking at Jamie, at the pictures of his and Tessa’s wedding that littered his desk, at the framed sonogram picture of their baby, he knew why he’d come here.

Baz pushed out of the chair and paced the length of the small office, scraping his hand over his face. He was grateful for Jamie’s silent patience, almost like he knew Baz needed a minute to collect his thoughts. And maybe he did know. Maybe that’s exactly why Baz had come here.

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