Page 17 of Married to My Grumpy Minotaur Boss

I stare down at the card in my hand.How do you picture married life?

Thankfully, at that point someone comes over and pours me a glass of champagne and I take a long drink of that, too.

Then I go off script. “Did you always want to get married?”

“Yes.” Justine licks her lips, fidgeting with the edge of the table cloth on her lap. “You were probably expecting that answer, right? But it’s the truth. I’ve always wanted the big white wedding and the beautiful dress.”

“Just like this?” I can see why she dreamed of the dress at least. It suits her. She looks stunning.

She shrugs. “Sort of.”

I lift my brow. “But?”

“Well, I guess I’ve always wanted to do it in front of friends and family and have everyone I love with me.”

I nod. Makes sense. At least, it does if having family around doesn’t remind you of the great big fucking hole in your life left by the person who’s not there. “Yeah. That sounds... nice.”

This was a bad idea. I should just stick to the plan. I don’t need to start getting sentimental.

I pick the card off the table and read the question to her. “What do you think of when you think about a happy marriage?”

“This is going to sound unusual, but I actually picture it being a lot like my mom and my stepfather.”

She goes on to describe her mother’s relationship with her second husband; I have to admit parts sound appealing. They met after her father left her mother and had a whirlwind office romance. Apparently, Justine’s stepfather instantly treated her like his own child and became the father she always wanted. The father she never had.

I forget about the cameras and the heat.

I’m surprised when the assistant producer comes over to the table.

“That was perfect, guys. Just perfect. Next we’ve got the winery tour and the cake-baking class, and then it will be time for your dinner date.”

They have us busy all day with stupid set up dates. We’re driven half way across the island in a golf cart for a winery tour where we listen to an ancient satyr harp on about grapes for an hour, then a plump French chef guides us in the art of baking chocolate tarts while ogling Justine’s tits in the tight white top they dressed her in.

The second time I catch him I give him such a glower he tips the tart upside down and spills chocolate all over me.

After a day of this sort of indignity, Amy approaches our dinner table with an enormous grin on her face. That doesn’t bode well. “It’s going really well so far. It’s just about time to head to the house, and get you all set up for the wedding night scene.”

Justine squeaks and I give her a sideways look. “What?”

“Nothing.”

The other woman moves off, already gesturing for the crew to follow.

I lean closer to Justine. “What?”

“Well, it’s just that I’d forgotten about...” She gulps and her cheeks turn that adorable shade of pink again. “Theonly one bedsituation.”

I practically spit out the whole mouthful of champagne I was drinking. We have to share a bed? I’m damn sure that wasn’t in the briefing!

NINE

Justine

We both stand one on either side of the generously sized bed in silence. Huge stacks of pillows are piled on each side and the immaculate white comforter is strewn with rose petals. It would be romantic under different circumstances.

Eventually, Ronan’s tail flicks and he snorts. “I’ll just go tell them we’re not doing this. This is ridiculous.”

“You can’t!”

---