Page 78 of Rook

Maybe I would have felt differently if the events of the day had gone differently.

Now, though, all I wanted to do was get home with Tessa, curl up with her, and finish what I’d been about to say before the party planners showed back up.

I didn’t know what the exact words would be. But the gist of it was going to be about how I was glad the marriage wasn’t fake, that I’d been hoping it was more than just a sham since the trip to the bridal shop.

And I could tell by the way she’d been acting all day that Tessa felt the same. Even if she would never admit it.

But I reminded myself, as I left Tessa alone to answer the questions from the club girlfriends and wives, so I could dip into the bathroom and clean up—since the picnic didn’t exactly allow for that—that we had nothing but time moving forward to talk.

If she didn’t decide once again to avoid me or put all of her walls back up.

It would be harder now, I reminded myself as I made my way back out of the bathroom. She’d given me too much, showed me how deep her desire went.

As deep as my own, it seemed.

“Finally,” Nyx said when I reemerged.

“Hey, the farm didn’t have running water,” I reminded them, pressing my hand into the small of Tessa’s back.

She was as beautiful as she’d been at the courthouse. And just as nervous.

Had someone said something to upset her?

My gaze slid around the gathered people, but I didn’t see any guilt in their eyes.

“Detroit and Everleigh baked us a wedding cake,” Tessa explained.

“And we all want a slice before we have to get going,” Nyx said.

“She stole a flower off the top,” Everleigh declared, shooting small eyes at Nyx.

“It was a wonky one.”

“They were all perfect,” Everleigh insisted.

Beside me, Tessa was getting tenser with each word spoken.

I was starting to think that maybe some of that trauma she was clearly dealing with actually had to do with the women around the club, not just whoever she may or may not have been involved with there.

That would explain her being uncomfortable with Nyx and Everleigh trading little barbs. All of them with love, I might add. But Tessa didn’t know them well enough to know they were playing, that there was no animosity between any of the women in the club.

“Anyway,” Everleigh said. “Judge and Dell wanted me to pass their love on. They’ve got a cold going around and didn’t want to spread it.”

“Which leaves more cake for us,” Raff said, making his way toward the kitchen.

I led Tessa along with the others.

And there was the cake Everleigh and Detroit had likely spent all day on.

It was a three-tier white cake with golden flowers, stars, and crescent moons.

“Wow,” Tessa said, some of the tension seeping out of her body. “This is amazing. I can’t believe you made this for… us.”

My mind flashed back to the hammock, to the thickness in her voice when she said she needed a hug. She had a similar sound right then, looking at the cake.

From what she told me about her mother, she was, well, a complete fucking poor excuse for one.

But I was starting to see more examples of just how hard a childhood Tessa had experienced.

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