Page 62 of Finding Lord Landry

He tilted his chin down, not taking his arm from around me. “My father is retiring. As to whether I might find myself in Parliament, well, that is a question for the people and for the leaders of our government. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’d like to get my beloved husband out of the blustery cold. Thank you, everyone.”

He clasped my hand again tightly and pulled me forward. I tried to project an air of friendly and polite calm. An agreeable helpmeet rather than an awkward math nerd who had a secret collection of handy spreadsheet formulas tucked away in a file labeledSumThingSpecial.xlxs.

I was not the kind of guy who had fancy London brunch with a supermodel boyfriend.

Husband.

“I can’t feel my legs,” I said almost too softly for my own ears to pick it up.

“You’re doing fine,” Landry murmured, tightening his grip on my hand. “It’s only two blocks away.”

“They probably think I’m mute.”

“I can assure them you are not,” he said in a particular tone. I glanced up at him and noticed his plastered-on smile didn’t meet his eyes.

“You’re still angry.”

He turned his unsmiling eyes on me and grinned wider. “Darling, I could never be angry with you.”

And then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to my lips.

I stared at him as he pulled away to continue walking.I think I’m going to be sick.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed.

“For what, sweetheart?”

My eyes stung, and I tried to think of something else, something besides hurting the one man in the world who loved me unconditionally.

“Did you know that Excel will let you undo up to one hundred actions?” I asked.

Landry’s smile wavered. “Excel… the spreadsheet software?”

I looked off to the side, taking care to continue smiling even though I worried the gesture wouldn’t be good at containing vomit. “It also has over five hundred built-in functions, including one for gamma distribution, which I’ve never really understood. But there’s also the Unique function, which quickly deduplicates lists and helps with things like RSVPs. That one I use often.”

“What are you…Kenj. Look at me.”

I turned reluctantly to face him, taking great care to look at the place where his red spot had been carefully covered with concealer. His mouth was still smiling playfully, but his eyes showed concern.

“I’m making conversation,” I explained softly with my smile in place.

“You’re scaring me,” he grumbled, turning away and continuing our progress. Thankfully, the security personnel Nan had arranged for us were keeping the reporters far enough away from us not to hear our conversation. “I forgot spreadsheets were your security blanket. Continue. Maybe you can explain why every time I change a cell’s format to currency, it automatically shifts everything to one side.”

I happily explained the importance of aligning the decimal point in a currency column, and by the time we reached the restaurant, I probably looked as happy as a clam, even though my heart still felt like it was being squeezed in a giant vise.

We took a seat at a small table for two by the window. Everything had clearly been arranged ahead of time, and I was grateful the paparazzi wasn’t allowed inside.

“Thank fuck,” I muttered, exhaling and perusing the menu. “Think I’m allowed a hot chocolate?”

“No whipped cream unless you want an adorable spot on your nose I can kiss off,” he said blandly into the menu.

I reached across the table and took his hand in mine. His eyes widened in surprise as he looked up at me.

“I’m sorry I messed up your plans,” I said. “I’m sorry I blurted out the marriage thing and I’m…” I sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I’m having trouble?—”

“Welcome to Drunch. What can I start you with? Coffee?”

Landry turned on the charm like I’d seen him do a million times. “Hello! I’ll take some coffee, but my husband here would like hot chocolate with extra whipped cream, please.”

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