Page 29 of The Fiance Dilemma

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Bobbi countered. Her head tilted to the side. “You can stop panicking. The news that you’re happily engagedandAndrew is part of it will probably put out most of the fire.”

I let out some of the air that had been squeezed in my lungs. “Okay,” I said, focusing on the slight reprieve and not on the fact that Matthew wasn’t speaking. He was probably fuming. This wasn’t what we’d talked about.

Bobbi continued, unbothered. “Now, speaking of putting out fires, I’m going to need you to set your socials to private, and I want access to all the pictures you two have together. Dates, weekend trips, mirror selfies, domestic shots… anything but nudes. And most importantly, your proposal shots.”

Well, crap.

“No, no,” she tutted. “I don’t like that face. Please, don’t tell me all you have is mirror selfies. No one actually wants to see that.”

I blinked at the woman, realizing with urgency that I’d definitely miscalculated and underestimated this whole thing. Anxiety blossomed, and I did what I do when that happens. I smiled. Big and wide.

“What is your mouth doing?” she asked me.

Matthew’s hand returned to my leg, which was bouncing. But before I could begin to process the weight or the warmth of his palm, or how the fidgeting had stopped under it, he said, “No.”

Bobbi’s brows arched. “Pardon me?”

The tension thickened in an unexpected way, and I didn’t think, I just acted. It was time to get the control back. “We lost them,” I said. “To hackers. We were hacked. You know as careful as one tries to be, they’re sneaky. They tricked me and before I knew it, my gallery was poof. Gone. It happens to the best of us. All the hard copies were lost, too. In a fire. It was horrible and—”

“And we’re private,” Matthew said, fingers squeezing my knee. “We’re not giving you access to our memories just because you ask. That’s whatnomeans. We don’t want to and it’s our decision. The only reason Josie was not telling you this is because she has manners. I don’t. I say shit like it is.”

Bobbi’s expression was… strange. As if she wanted to fling her iPad at Matthew, but she was also impressed. “All right, Blondie. But don’t forget Andrew’s putting a lot into this and you’re getting a free ride on the wedding of your dreams. So you get to draw some lines, but I’m still in charge.” A pause. “You’ll take new pictures. That’s my compromise, and I’ll forget about that hacking story or why Josephine has been looking like a deer in headlights since taking a seat.”

Had I?

I turned to look at my fiancé, as if looking for the answer to that. But Matthew was busy holding the woman’s eyes. For a long time.

He squeezed my knee.

Oh.“Yeah, okay.” I let my hand rest on top of his. Sandwiching his fingers against my thigh. They twitched. Tapped. “New pictures sound like a reasonable compromise.”

The atmosphere in the coffee shop relaxed with my words. And when Bobbi’s phone rang and she excused herself with a, “I’ll be right back,” before moving to the back, it improved exponentially where tension was concerned.

“Ugh,” I said, turning to look at Matthew. “Thank you for that.”

He sat back on his chair, letting his shoulders fall but keeping his hand exactly where it was. On my thigh. Under my palm “Place is cute,” he said. “Really charming and cozy,” he added with the tiniest smirk. “Very Josie.”

Very Josie.Did that mean he found me cute? Charming? Cozy? They weren’t the worst things to be. “Of course it is,” I muttered. “I’m in charge and I have excellent taste.”

His lips twitched. “Cocky. I like that too.”

Too.I tipped my chin up. “Not cocky. Just confident. Cute and charming decor is in my skills repertoire.”

He dipped his head, only slightly. His voice lowered. “Unlike lying. Hackers? A fire? I feel like I should have been warned about this.”

The tips of my ears warmed. Those green specks in his eyes were there again. Flicking under the fluorescent light and staring right back at me. Our faces were once again too close. Our shoulders touched, and the gentle pressure his palm exerted on my leg, as it remained in place, seemed to scream at me.

“I feel like I should have been warned about this too,” I murmured.

I glanced down at the ring on my finger. The stones around the crown reminded me of the beautiful specks of green.

Matthew’s voice was nothing but a hush. “You don’t like it? You didn’t say.”

His thumb moved from beneath my hand to swipe at the ring. It was merely a brush, but the small gesture sent a truckload of memories cascading down my head. Flashes of men’s faces, first dates, proposals, bouquets of roses, candlelit dinners, rings that were now stored in a box atop my dresser. They all seemed to belong to a past life. Like they were never really mine.

“It doesn’t matter if I like it,” I heard myself say. Because it was this ring, the one that didn’t belong to me. Even when it seemed to occupy all the space in my head after wearing it all of one day. “But it’s beautiful.”

I glanced back at Matthew, a question at the tip of my tongue. There was a question in his eyes, too.

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