Page 46 of Attached At Heart
“I’m taking you to Europe to see your favorite flowers.”
“Oh, shut up,” I laughed, lightly smacking his arm.
But for a second, I imagined it. I imagined the flowers come alive, the ones I’d seen so still and lifeless on those little puzzle pieces. I imagined them swaying in the breeze while I walked through them, letting my fingers graze the petals. I imagined having the time to do that. To enjoy that.
It was a nice thought.
But it wasn’t reality.
Blake wore a playful grin, his eyes darting to mine before training back on the road. “You think I’m kidding, Lane?”
“Iknowyou’re kidding.”
But his grin only grew, and I felt myself falter for the first time.
Hewaskidding, right?
I’d better check.
“There’s absolutely no way you’re taking days off work to go on a fake honeymoon.”
“Actually…” he started, drawing out the word in a way that heightened my senses. “There’s no way I’m getting fake-married and not taking my wife on a fake honeymoon.” He shrugged. “I’ll take off as many days as I can figure out.”
My jaw dropped. I actually felt it falling open, hanging on its hinges. I stared at Blake, and he stared at the road, and hehadto be kidding, right?
“Who are you, and what have you done with the Dr. Blake London I know?
“You knew the best friend version of Dr. Blake London,” he replied pointedly. “I’m just introducing you to the husband version of him.” When all I could do was gape at him, Blake added, “Besides, I think you forget that while I take work seriously and love my job, I’ve never been interested in being a workaholic. That’s you.”
“Rude,” I scoffed.
But I didn’t deny it.
“I think it’s time I introduce you to a little work-life balance,” he finished. “As your husband, I think maybe that’s my responsibility now.”
My jaw dropped even further. I might have even dislocated it. “Are you taking me on a honeymoon as anintervention?”
His lips twitched with amusement, and I’d never wanted to punch him like I did right now.
“If that’s what you want to call it…sure.”
“Blake, give it up.” I needed him to stop. Now. “Pulling pranks isn’t your style.”
“You’re right,” he agreed, which only made me grind my molars together. “I’m not much of a jokester. I’m actually a terrible one. Being dead serious is much more my style.”
Oh my God.
“Blake.”
“Delaney.”
“Stop.”
“Not a chance.” We stopped at a red light, and Blake looked over at me for the first time. Our gazes connected, and I realized hewasserious about this. “I’m booking our flightsto Amsterdam as soon as we get home. We can send your grandparents’ executor pictures from the trip, too. That ought to help.”
“You don’t need to do that,” I insisted, switching my tactics now that I knew he wasn’t kidding. Blake always had this need to save things, fix problems, make everything perfect, but this just wasn’t something that needed solving. We could figure out another way around faking a honeymoon. “You’ve donemorethan enough for me with this whole marriage business.”
“Did it ever occur to you that Iliketraveling?” He raised a brow before switching his attention to driving as the light turned green. “Also, you heard Sully. My family already thinks I’m a chump for not giving you a proper wedding. I’m not going to let them think I’m doing the bare minimum for a honeymoon, too.”
