Page 29 of First Comes Marriage

“They’ll still be disappointed. But maybe not as disappointed as they’ll be when they find out this whole thing was the result of one too many margaritas.”

“One?”

“Hey.” She punched him lightly on the bicep, laughing.

The jostling of her abdomen sent another cramp shooting through her side and she pressed her hand to it, hissing. His brows pulled together as his eyes zeroed in on the spot on her side, his lips pulling into a frown.

She waved him off. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” He brushed the back of his hand over her forehead as though he were checking for a fever.

A shiver ran down her spine at the touch. “I will be,” she said, busying herself with fluffing the curtains. As if she’d ever fluffed curtains before in her life. But she needed to do something with her hands. Caring, concerned Sebastian was a version of him she wasn’t prepared for. “See? You don’t want to stay married to me. I can’t even laugh without falling apart,” she joked.

“You don’t have to tell me what it is, but maybe you should see a doctor about it.”

She snorted. “If you know of one who takes self-pay patients without bankrupting them, let me know.”

His stony silence was deafening. She glanced over her shoulderto find him scrubbing his hand through his hair, messing up all that coiffed perfection. “You don’t have health insurance?”

“I will. As soon as I open my studio. And save up for a few months. Three months. Four, tops. Definitely by Christmas.”And now you’re rambling. Great.

He planted his hands on his hips and hung his head, sighing. When he looked back up at her, his jaw was tense but there was a softness to his eyes that raised goosebumps on her skin.

“I’ll add you to my policy in the morning.”

“What?”

“You’re my wife, Sabrina,” he growled, and oh shit, that growly thing did terrible, wonderful things to her.

“What about the annulment?”

“You’ll stay on my policy until you can buy your own. Until Christmas. The annulment can wait until then.”

“Why would you do that for me?”

He looked away, his Adam’s apple bobbing with his swallow. “You’re in pain. You should see a doctor.”

“Thank you,” she said, her voice choked with an emotion she was afraid to name. Gratitude and surprise and something dangerously close to letting herself feel things for this man she’d tried so hard not to feel anything for. She moved closer to him, but stopped short of hugging him, despite the way her arms ached to wrap around him.

He gave one small, tight nod, and adjusted a box, as though he, too, needed something to distract himself. “Next weekend. You’re going to Brookline?”

“My mother has demanded that I attend her annual Labor Day party. She wants the whole family together to celebrate Hol—”

She swallowed the rest of the sentence. She wasn’t sure if she should talk to him about her sister, which was ironic considering they wouldn’t be married if she hadn’t gotten drunk and babbled about Holly in the first place. His eyes scanned herface, settling on the gold chains around her neck. He hooked a finger beneath the longest chain, catching the small ceramic charm and moving it to the center of her chest, where he gently placed the cool pottery against her skin.

When he looked back up at her, his eyes were shuttered.

“What about Holly?”

Sabrina cleared her throat, suddenly all too aware of that charm lying in the dip of her clavicle, of how much she liked having his hands on the jewelry she’d made. On her.

“She made partner.”

He looked as though he wanted to say something, and she found herself rocking towards him on the balls of her feet, hungry for whatever words he might give her.

Across the room, tucked in her purse, her phone rang. She closed her eyes, dropping back on her heels. “That’s probably Mom now.”

“Answer it.”

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