Page 96 of Not A Whisper

If I was going to be picky, I’d probably ask to be married to a husband that loved me as well. Since that seems to be asking a lot, I’ll just take a ring.

Grant laughs, but it’s not his typical one. This is just as warm and beautiful as the smile that clings to his lips. “As long as you promise not to throw it or shove it down the drain, you can have it.”

“Wait.” My arms drop to my sides in surprise. “You already have one?”

Grant nods. My confusion must be written on my face because his smile falls a little, becoming rueful. Color gathers in his cheeks. Hold up, is Grantblushingright now?

“Of course we have a ring for you, dollface.”

“Don’tof courseme.” I glare. “How was I supposed to know? Things were just kind of sprung on me!”

“Well, now you know.” He grabs my hand and drags me back the way we came. “I have to get to class.”

We get to the end of the aisle, which gives anyone on this floor a view of us, but then Grant stops. When he turns toward me, I brace myself, not trusting that he’s over this completely.

To my surprise, he takes my face between his hands and leans down to kiss me. It’s strangely tender and soft. A slow burn starts in my toes and works its way up my legs, into my lower stomach, then into my chest. It's so subtle that it’s not overtly hot until it reaches my face. I shudder under the intensity. My breath is stolen under the tenderness.

I suck in a shaky breath, reeling from such an intense moment. Grant’s hands drop away from my face. One takes myhand, and he casually leads me toward the stairwell, as if this was all completely normal for us.

We stop at the top. His brows come back together, and he shakes his head as if to dispel something.

“No, no, we need to do this right.”

I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or himself, but abruptly, he turns to face me once more. Before I can react, he gathers me in his arms, dips me backward, and then kisses me. Oh! My world tilts on its axis as our mouths clash. His tongue sneaks into my mouth and uses it to subdue mine, laying claim to it and me fully.

When we break apart, Grant rights me and flashes me a bright grin. His eyes twinkle with mirth and cockiness as he watches me attempt to regain my breath.

“Much better. Now, I’m really going to be late if I don’t hurry.” His gaze smolders. “I’ll see you later,wife.”

Wife. I’m someone’swife. As crazy as it happened, I’m a married woman. And to a very attractive young man. This whole thing should still piss me off. Yet containing the strange delight lighting up my insides is a lost cause. I bite my bottom lip to keep a smile from spreading across my face. I’m unsuccessful. Grant’s shoulders shake with laughter before he turns and jogs down the stairwell. I watch him as butterflies riot in my gut.

Chill out, he tricked you into marriage! All three of them did!I scold myself. A small voice in the back of my head replies,But would you want to be with anyone else?

The resoundingnosquashes the small flame of ire that tries to rekindle.

When I get back downstairs,Jonathan is waiting for me.

“So, I take it the revenge had something to do with whatever that just was.” He grins at me, eager to hear the details.

I can’t help it, I laugh. “It did, and he was not happy. Turns out, tattooing men while they sleep will get them all upset.”

Jonathan gasps loudly, his hands coming up to cover his mouth. “You didn’t, Bri! What did you draw?”

Without missing a beat I tell him the truth, “I wrote ‘Briella’s Husband’ on him.”

“Oh, mygod! You’re one of those psycho girlfriends!”

His comment strikes a nerve. I suppress a flinch. Girlfriend? No. I’ve been forcibly upgraded in that department. A nervous laugh bubbles up in my chest as I sit down. I guess now is as good a time as over to rip the Band-Aid off.

“Actually… I’m one of those psychowives.” At Jonathan’s confused look, I brace myself. “Um, remember how I told you I went to Vegas?”

“Yes…” His voice trails off as his pupils narrow suspiciously. “But you said no one got married there.”

“Yeah, you’re right, I did say that.” I lick my lips and let the words spill out. “Um, that’s because we got marriedbeforeVegas. It was technically a honeymoon.”

Not one I would’ve picked for myself, of course. If the guys are willing to entertain a ceremony, I wonder if I could talk them into a different honeymoon destination. One where, during it, I’m aware I’m married.

Jonathan opens and shuts his mouth. His eyes bulge in slow motion as he puts everything together.

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