Page 16 of The Accidental Honeymoon

She sighs, clearly unconvinced but not entirely dismissive. "So what’s your brilliant plan, then?"

"We don’t rush into anything. We see how things unfold and make decisions based on that. In the meantime, we can frame this as a temporary situation.”

“Temporary.” She studies me for a long moment, weighing my words. "Only until we have thought everything through. Right?”

"Exactly. I promise, you’ll get back to your normal life before you know it.”

As we finish eating, I catch her looking at me thoughtfully. I grin and say, "See something you like, wifey?"

She rolls her eyes but can’t suppress a smile. "I was just thinking," she starts, hesitant. "You’re actually more charming in person than in your videos."

I raise an eyebrow. "Oh? So you’ve been watching my videos? Doing some research on your future ex-husband?"

She blushes and looks momentarily flustered. "I had to know what I was getting into," she defends herself. "You’re quite the character."

I laugh. "Well, well. I’m on my honeymoon with my stalker. This just keeps getting better."

She turns an even deeper shade of red but bites her lip, trying to hold back a laugh. "Don’t flatter yourself. I only watched a few."

"Sure, sure. You know, I think I’m going to enjoy this. Teasing you, I mean. For as long as we’re still married."

She shakes her head, but there’s a twinkle in her eye. "You’d better not get too used to it. This whole thing is temporary, remember?"

"I know," I say, more seriously. "But that doesn’t mean we can’t make the best of it while it lasts."

Calla rolls her eyes. But I can’t help but notice that she’s blushing at the same time.

I just hope that she’s thinking about making the best of our situation too.

six

JAY

After breakfast,I walk Calla to her apartment. It’s simple enough because her apartment is above her bakery on the other side of the town square.

“So this is you,” I say too loudly. I stare at the peeling lavender door of Calla’s upstairs apartment. A neon “You Butter Believe It” sign glows pink in the bakery window below.

She leads me around the side of the building, jingling her keys. “Don’t sound so disappointed, Mr. Been-My-Husband-For-Five-Minutes.”

I lean against the brick of the building. “Not disappointed. Just noticing.”

“Of course.” She grins. “I’ll catch you later.”

“Count on it, Mrs. Rustin.”

Two perfect pink circles form on Calla’s cheeks. She arches a brow. “That’s Ms. Nikolakis to you.”

My chuckle sounds foreign even to me. There hasn’t been much laughing this morning. Not since Blake left me standing at the altar with two thousand orchids and zerofiancées.

I give her a mock salute and she turns toward the door, shaking her head. Calla’s brand of sarcasm feels like lightly pressing on a bruise. It’s a little painful, but proof that I’m still alive.

She disappears upstairs without so much as a goodbye. I walk home past Java Monkey and the couple blocks home. My gaze is downward, and my thoughts are a churning mess. When I hit my yard, my agent startles me.

“Rustin!”

Grady’s polished oxfords tap impatiently as he waits on my porch steps. His navy suit screams “midlife crisis meeting spreadsheet”. As opposed to my wrinkled Atlanta Braves jersey, which whispers “I might have gotten married last night.”

“Hey. Uhh… I wasn’t expecting you.”

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