A shiver runs down my spine as Cash brushes a strand of hair from my face. His gaze lingers on my mouth, and I thinkof the kiss we just shared at the altar. The way he took charge, flicking his tongue along the seam of my lips, coaxing me to let him in, and the warmth of his mouth… It was incredible.

“You’re perfect, Ev,” he whispers. “And you’re mine.”

His declaration sends a flurry of butterflies through my stomach, making me wish he’d kiss me again.

“Ready for your close-up, lovebirds?” We both lift our heads to find a photographer observing us with an amused expression. He taps his foot impatiently, waiting for us to get a move on.

“Yeah, we’re coming,” Cash says.

He was adamant about getting the complete wedding package, including having photos taken during the ceremony and outside afterward.

Cash leads me to the pink Cadillac parked in front of the chapel. The top is down, making for the perfect photo opp. He opens the door to the back seat, extending his hand to help me inside before circling around and hopping in next to me.

He slings his arm across the back seat, placing his other hand possessively on my hip. I lean against his chest, propping my feet up on the window ledge. My body naturally eases into him as I place the bouquet of daffodils we purchased at the chapel in my lap.

“Look at me and smile,” the photographer says.

He remains stoic as he snaps several photos, undoubtedly used to the light-night stream of tipsy couples tying the knot.

When he pauses to look down at his camera, I tilt my head back to glance at Cash. He’s dressed in a black suit he packed for his work trip. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, drawing attention to the bracelet on his wrist. My chest tightens knowing he kept it all these years because it meant something to him, implying that I matter to him too.

Warning bells sound in my head, reminding me why getting married was a bad idea. We hadn’t seen each other in fourteen years, and I swore off serious relationships after breaking up with Landon. Yet, none of that matters as the alcohol’s effects still linger, keeping me on cloud nine.

When Cash catches me admiring him, he offers me a warm smile.

“I can’t believe we really got married.” I giggle.

“I can’t believe you’re my wife,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose against my neck.

Being this close to Cash gives me a sense of peace and comfort I haven’t felt in a long while, and for the moment, all my worries disappear, content in the warmth of his embrace.

I’m pulled from the memory when I hear movement down the hall.

“Everly, where are you?” Cash calls out, bursting into the living room seconds later. He’s shirtless, with his hair disheveled and his black joggers hanging low on his hips.

I raise a brow at his ruffled state. “Everything alright?”

“You weren’t in bed when I woke up; I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

My chest tightens with affection. “I couldn’t sleep,” I admit, setting my cup of coffee on the barstool that I brought over from the kitchen.

“I must not have given you enough orgasms,” he teases.

I give him a crooked smile, unable to resist goading him. “You’ll definitely have to up your game next time.”

“You’re right. I look forward to making up for my less-than-stellar performance last night.” He gives me a cheeky grin.

We both know his performance last night was exceptional. There’s no denying I want there to be a next time, but that doesn’t mean I’m not conflicted.

The tequila shots played a part in my impulsive decision to marry Cash, overriding my usual judgment. When I found out about Stafford Holdings buying Townstead International, I thought I could compartmentalize my emotions. Yet, the more time I spend with Cash, the more he brings me the same peace and comfort he did in Vegas.

He strides across the room and crouches in front of me, using a finger to lift my chin so our eyes meet. “You seem lost in thought. Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

“What makes you think something is wrong?”

He kisses my forehead. “Because I can see it in your expression.”

I take a deep breath, considering how to express what’s on my mind. “Our marriage was meant to be temporary.” I motion between us. “And now that the lines have been blurred, things feel much more confusing.”