Page 51 of Just My Fake Husband

I force myself to school my thoughts. “Exactly. At the end of the year, I’ll buy you a bean burrito to celebrate.”

“To celebrate our divorce?”

My stomach lurches at that thought. “No. To celebrate a job well done.”

“I like it. Focus on the positive.” She leans in even further. “I’m just gonna go lie down and breathe into a paper bag while you hit send.” She raises her hand in the air and smacks it towards me to give me an air high five. “So . . . goooo team!” She smirks, but then, something in the pools of her warm brown eyes is heavy against my being—deep, dark embers that fuse me to her. It’s brief, but I know I won’t forget it. The kiss we shared in the courthouse yesterday slams into my memory. The way her lips tasted of minty sugar and the smell of her in my nose—like vanilla and heat.

We’re married. We are, in the weirdest way, a team, like she said.

When she walks away, I add her number to the group text with my parents, brothers, and their significant others. I include Benson on there, too.

A buzz of nausea hits me. I don’t want to let anyone down. Just because I had the debacle in Prague doesn’t mean I’m used to it. Because they’re going to be let down by this, if for no other reason than we did it behind everyone’s backs.

I push send, hoping the message ofSurprise! We eloped yesterday afternoon. Can’t wait to start our lives together. Love to you all, is okay.

I wait, my phone in my hands. No one’s writing back. So I close my laptop, let the air out of the mattress, and stow it behind one of the sofas to remove any evidence that River and I didn’t spend the night together. I busy myself with cleaning the outside of the salt and pepper shakers with a cloth. Then I sweep and mop the floor. Followed by some busy work on my laptop for my freelancing business.

Do I want to be cleaning and working right now? No. I want to go lie down next to River. But that’s not what this is. So I’ll busy myself with cleaning salt and pepper shakers.

Finally, a text buzzes through, but it’s from River to me alone:

Bring all the bean burritos! I’m talking the ones with sour cream and cheese and olives and everything. The works! This thing’s going down and we’re both going to need about a million bean burritos, Gabriel!

I reach the bedroom in two seconds.

Chapter 18

River

Gabriel and I stand at the bedroom window, frozen to the spot at the scene before us. Sebastian, Alec, Henry, and Oliver are in the driveway, scowling, stepping out of Sebastian’s car like foxes about to enter a hen house.

Thank goodness I had the wherewithal to get dressed a moment ago.

I leave the room and go open the front door before they have a chance to ring the bell. They enter our home silently, barely meeting my gaze. By the time they’ve filed into the great room, Gabriel has joined us.

I offer them a seat, but they don’t move.

“I’ll sit then,” I say and before I can even ask him to, Gabriel’s beside me on one of the love seats.

No one says anything, but there’s a whole lot of looking back and forth at us. Finally, Oliver opens his mouth.

“Look, I don’t mean for us all to be in your face and whatnot, but we’re . . .” Oliver’s head whips around, looking at his brothers on either side of him, a whiff ofCan I get a little help here?on his face.

“You’re in a state of shock,” Gabriel supplies, his dimples nowhere to be found.

“I know,” I say to Oliver. “I don’t blame you guys for feeling this way. It’s a big shock.” I offer a laugh. “Gabriel and I are also shocked.”

Gabriel and I. Sounds like we’re an old married couple.

Sebastian’s mouth is bunched up tight and I get the distinct worry that maybe he’s going to fire me. Is what I’ve done a fireable offense? Probably.

Henry also stays silent, but Alec starts in, his brow furrowed.

“So, last night, huh? You got married last night?” He emphasizes thenight, and that’s when I notice his face is starting to turn red.

Oliver pats him on the shoulder. “Dude, it’s okay. They’re adults. They’re in love.” He swallows hard, like it’s hitting him that his younger brother eloped with Tate International’s PR director.

“We decided to get married, so we got married.” Gabriel lifts a shoulder, like,I don’t know why you guys are so confused right now.

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