Page 15 of One Night Bride
“Annulment. Now. Today.”
Remington scanned my face, like he couldn’t believe I was upset by the news we were married. Or maybe it was shock I wasn’t responding to his flirting. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and flicked his finger across the screen a few times. Then he held it out so I saw the screen.
It was a picture of us, outside a restaurant I only vaguely recalled seeing before. It wasn’t the background that held my attention, though. It was the two of us, our faces pressed together and smiling ear to ear that made my heart lurch.
I didn’t think I’d ever seen myself smile genuinely in a picture before. In my line of work, I’d perfected the camera angles that flattered my face, whether a still photo or in motion on video. Just the right amount of smiling to show teeth and convey trust, but not so much you looked too young and inexperienced. The head tilt was practiced and perfected to show confidence, yet still warm and connected. But to be caught in a picture where I was laughing and carefree? Unheard of.
Except with a stranger named Remington Roth.
His finger swiped at the screen and another photo of us burned into the back of my eyeballs. Again, our faces squished together like we couldn’t get close enough. This time though, my hand was held up to the camera by his tan hand, a twisty-tie on my ring finger.
Oh my God. Picture evidence of our hasty, disastrous marriage.
I gasped and made a grab for the phone. “Give me that!” I yelled.
Remington snatched the phone back and shoved it into his front pocket before I could grab it. We both stared down at his jeans in silence, the bulge of the phone right next to another bulge I could have sworn had grown since my sisters left. Fuck, it was hot in here.
“Go ahead, Esme. The phone is yours,” he said smoothly, clearly daring me.
My fingers itched to do it. Not because I wanted the phone that badly, but because I wanted an excuse to touch him. Which meant it was already happening. Hello, my name is Esme and my addiction is Remington.
“Ugh!” I yelled, twirling on my heel and marching to the couch to flop down, shoving my hands under my thighs. Bad hands.
“You do that a lot, I’ve noticed. Is this something I need to be aware of in our marriage? Lots of flouncing?” Remington sauntered over and I seriously wanted to maim him.
“Should I get used to this as well? You joking constantly when there’s a serious situation to be dealt with?”
He only grinned. “What’s done is done. The way I see it, we should use this marriage to our advantage.”
I sat up straight. “There is no advantage to us being married. I might lose my whole business if people find out about you.”
He frowned. “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think? People might be shocked, but I doubt your whole business would crumble.”
I shook my head, already gearing up for a fight. Typical. A man telling a woman to calm down. Talking out his ass about something he knew nothing about. “You don’t even know what I do for a living.”
He swiveled his head, looking around my house with an appreciative glance. “Looks to me like you’ve done quite well for yourself. Which means I can’t believe you’d build an entire empire so flimsy a single rumor about your personal life could topple it.”
Well, shit. That made me feel dumb. How did this stranger zero in on the one flaw of my business that even my sisters didn’t know about?
“You ever have something go viral, Remy?” I asked quietly, using my nickname just to poke back at him.
He shrugged his huge shoulders. “I don’t really do that social media stuff. Won’t help me sell cows.”
Jesus. It was like I was talking to someone who spoke a different language entirely. Maybe even someone from a different planet.
“Let me explain, then. My business went crazy after a video of mine went viral. In it, I was being interviewed about starting a business straight out of high school and having it take off. We’re a women-only business, meaning my assistants are female as well. I became known, not just as a business coach, but as a coach for women who didn’t want a man’s help to be successful.”
I quit talking to see if he connected the dots. He stared back at me with those eyes that made me want to ditch my business and run away to a deserted island with him, clothing optional.
“That’s badass, Esme.” He nodded thoughtfully, and I’d never felt so complimented before. “But I don’t see what that has to do with your personal life. I’m not joining your company, I’m just your husband.”
I started shaking my head before he’d finished. “No! Quit saying that. You’re not—”
“I am though.” He pulled the crumpled license out of his back pocket. What was with this guy and things stashed in his damn pockets?
I stood up and pressed my palms to my head. I was losing my damn mind. How could he stand there, listen to my explanation, and not see the problem with us being married?
My hands left my head to slap down on his rock-hard chest, my voice rising. “Listen to me! I don’t want to be married. To you or anyone else. I don’t want anyone to know about that damn license, so let’s file the annulment and you can be on your way as soon as possible, and my life will go back to normal.”
