Page 64 of Where Happiness Begins

I clear my throat, and when I resume our trek toward the hotel, I feel him following me.

At the next red light, I stretch one of my ankles that’s been screaming at me to stop for a while.

Carter catches it. “Sorry I pushed you around all day.” He scratches his cheek. “Wanted you to see it all.”

“I loved it,” I say, not even lying. Other than Boston and one time in Salt Lake City with Finn, I’ve never explored another city. It was worth all the cramps. “How did you know so much about the place?”

The pedestrian sign turns green, so we follow the mass of people across the intersection. “Montreal’s a good music scene. My parents traveled here a few times for work, and we tagged along.”

I hum. “Did you like it?”

“Nah.” He turns to me, squinting against the fading light. “Today was all right, though.”

I grin.

We’re not far from the hotel, only a few more blocks until we reach the entrance of the chic-looking building. Carter opens the door for me, allowing me a whiff of his scent—I need to know whether it’s his deodorant or his shampoo I have to blame for allthose tingly feelings I get every time I get a hit—and once we’re in, someone calls, “Cart! Lil!”

“Cart?” I whisper against Carter’s arm as we turn to find Ethan hollering for us from the lobby bar.

“Forget it,” Carter mutters.

“Hey,” I tell Ethan once we join him. “Had a good day off?”

“Yeah, yeah… Look, there’s been a fuckup.”

“What kind of fuckup?” Carter says.

“Bill, the tour manager, he didn’t know you’d be there when he booked the rooms, and anyway, you’re supposed to be married, so…”

“So we only got one room,” I finish for him.

“Right. And I checked, but the hotel’s full. Some kind of music festival happening this weekend.”

“Check again,” Carter grunts.

I roll my eyes at his lovely mood, putting a hand on his arm as I tell Ethan, “It’s fine.” It’s not like we have much of a choice anyway. I wish Carter didn’t have to react like being in the same room as me is the equivalent of going onSurvivorand sleeping naked in a tent made of branches, but I won’t change him overnight.

“Sorry, guys,” Ethan says as he gives me the keys, but his apologetic eyes are on Carter.

“It’s okay, really.” When I turn to my husband and find him with a tight jaw, I tell him, “It’s only for one night. Calm your horses.”

He doesn’t say anything as he picks our bags up from where we’d left them this morning, and then we’re in the elevator, a thick silence enveloping us. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. It’s notthe end of the world. In fact, even if the tour manager had known Carter would be there, we couldn’t have asked for two rooms. It would’ve blown our cover.

I shouldn’t be surprised to see the single king bed in the room once we open the door either, but surprised I am.

Carter must’ve expected it because he doesn’t react to it. He walks in and drops his things on the small love seat in the corner of the room. “I’ll sleep here.”

“Come on,” I say, taking a seat on the plush bed. “The bed’s big enough for both of us.”

His gaze is dark when he looks up.

“We’re grown adults. We can share a bed,” I tell him, but I almost sound like I’m trying to convince myself.

He glances at the bed for a long, long moment, then turns to his bag and grabs a few toiletries. “Wanna jump in the shower first?”

“Go ahead,” I say.

I lay a hand on the bed, the covers silky smooth. This is going to be fine. I can control myself.

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