Page 123 of Marrying the Billionaire Single Dad
"And this is the start of a new chapter in your life. It’s why you agreed to invite them here... To witness you taking the first steps to your reformation," Edward adds.
"Says the man who couldn’t wait to turn his back on the world," Damian snorts.
"I cannot believe you just said that," I gasp at him. "Honestly, Damian, you need to apologize."
"What?" He glowers down at me from his superior height, "No."
I tip my chin up, stab a finger into his chest, "You tell him how sorry you are."
He scowls.
"Right now," I hiss at him.
"Fine," he hisses back, "but you’re going to pay for this."
"Oh?" I flutter my eyelashes, "I’m counting on it."
His blue eyes blaze with those familiar sparks, his nostrils flare, he lowers his head, and I’m sure he’s going to kiss me, or yell at me, or both. Instead, he brushes his nose up the side of my throat, and I shiver. He releases me and steps back.
"I apologize." He nods in Edward’s direction, "I was out of line."
Edward seems taken aback, then he glances between us. "Don’t say it because your wife to-be asked you to," he sneers. "I can live without your fake repentance."
"Jesus," Damian swears, "does everything have to be so…so…packed with OTT sentiment with you?"
"That’s me," Edward’s lips curl, "I’m an OTT kind of guy."
"Huh?" I stare at the Father. And I’d always thought him to be a mellow kind of guy. Guess I thought wrong. Still waters always do run deep, apparently.
Isla’s phone rings. She switches it off, then walks over to us, "You guys, if you’re sure you don’t want the press to be witness—"
"I’m not—"
"I’m sure," Damian snaps at the same time.
I stare up at him; he ignores me.
"Tell the press they’ll get to do a short q-and-a with us after the wedding, as man and wife."
As man and wife. Of course, he would say that, rather than husband and wife. Gah! Big picture, Julia.He means to go through with it then. After everything I heard earlier, when I’d been sure that he would back out… He throws me for a loop again. Apparently, my little scene had worked. Too well. Now I am well and truly stuck.
"B…but," I force the words out, "what about the guests?"
"Ohmygod, the guests." Isla digs her fingers into her hair. "What do I do with them?" She stares between us. "Don’t tell me you’re not going to let them witness the wedding after they agreed to attend, and at such short notice?"
Damian widens his stance; his muscles tense.
"Let’s allow the guests in," I plead with him. "It’s not fair that I asked Isla to help organize the wedding, which she pulled off in less than two days—"
"More like twenty-four hours," Isla pouts. "I should have known none of the Seven would do this the normal way. Have any of you all heard of planning things and not getting married on a whim?"
"Uh, I think I am the one to blame this time," I offer.
"You. Him." She scowls at Damian. "Once you women hook up with the Seven, it’s like everything changes. All of you expect the world to bow down to you."
"So, what’s wrong with that?" Damian frowns down at her, and honestly, he’s being serious. Like, totally serious, here.
OMG. I dig my elbow in his side. "Stop," I reprimand him. "You’re not helping."
