Page 135 of Sinclair Duet

I didn’t propose. The subject of marriage came up again as it often had since Amber and I began dating. It was time. I was in my late thirties, and not getting any younger. My career was moving the right direction. And then there was the bombshellGloria dropped on us a few days ago. By marrying, I could fast-track my probationary period as CEO and get the permanent title.

The news had come as such a shock, I called my father.

He said he wasn’t aware of the addendum, yet I had a copy of the bylaws and could read it in black and white. After sending him a copy, Dad did what he always does. He added his two cents.

“Don’t marry someone for the wrong reason. If you love her, then consider the permanent title the cherry on the top. If you don’t like the sundae below, that cherry is fucking insignificant.”

His advice was eating at me, nibble by nibble.

Amber could be fun to be around. She enjoyed the spotlight. Fancy dinners and nightclubs were her thing. Tall, blond, and curvy, she looked good on my arm. More than once, her mother had commented on how we would make a power couple.

When it came to sex, she was a wildcat. Nails and teeth and willing for anything.

My mind went to another woman.

She’d left me but only physically.

Ella came to my mind more often than I would like.

While pushing my cock into Amber’s asshole as she begged for more, I’d have flashes of the one who never let me do that.

It made no fucking sense.

I craved control, especially in the bedroom, and still my thoughts went to the woman who while fantastic in bed, gave me limits—guardrails, so to speak.

Fully dressed, I sorted through the papers we’d left on Amber’s counter.

My stomach dropped as I held up the license.

I remembered earlier in the afternoon.

“Let’s do it,” Amber said. “My mom will be ecstatic.”

“Don’t you want a wedding?” I asked.

“This is just the license. In Indiana it’s good for sixty days. We’ll plan a ceremony.” Her eyes opened wider. “On the canal. It will be gorgeous.”

My mind went to my probation. This would end it almost two years early. One less thing to deal with. The excitement on Amber’s face was contagious. “Can you plan a wedding in two months?”

“I can do it. After all, Damien Sinclair should have the best and biggest wedding Indianapolis has ever seen. Our pictures will be all over social media and local business journals. The marriage of the century.”

If yesterday was day one, Amber and I had fifty-nine days to make the license legal. All we needed was the officiant’s signature.

I couldn’t ignore the sense of doom hanging over me. I was a man who took what he wanted, but I knew that what I wanted or who I wanted wasn’t Amber Wilmott.

Pulling out my phone, I hit my sister’s number.

“Are you dead? If you’re not, call back in the morning.”

“Dani.”

There must have been something in my voice.

“Are you okay?” She sounded more awake.

“I’m kind of…I thought if I could talk…never mind. Get some sleep.”

“Damien,” she said, “where are you? Do you need me to come and get you?”

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