Page 107 of The Single Dad Project

Fuck if he would look a Christmas gift in the mouth.

Even if he could only have that perfect present for the amount of time it took Brooklyn to end them. And she had every intention of doing so. She’d made no bones about that from the moment he’d woken up in her hotel room. In her bed. Tangled up in sheets that carried her jasmine-and-vanilla scent.

Shit.

He was here in Cole’s office to nullify his marriage, not think about consummating it.

Goddamn, he wished he could remember that. Remember how it felt to slowly push into her undoubtedly silken, tight-as-a-fist heat. Remember the erotic sounds she made as she pulsed around him, milking him. Remember how her curves aligned perfectly to his as he held her tight afterward.

He didn’t need his memories to know he’d held her. Not when he couldn’t be within her presence for mere seconds and not damn near hum with the need to touch her.

“I’m sorry,” Cole said, interrupting his thoughts.Thank God.“But your marriage is perfectly legal and recognized outside Las Vegas and the state of Nevada. You two are husband and wife in the eyes of the law.”

Brooklyn released an audible, tired sigh beside him. He glanced over in time to catch her pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that,” she murmured.

Glimpsing the disappointment and weariness etched into her lovely features, Patrick smothered the urge to lift her out of that chair, take her place, set her on his lap and cuddle her close. Assure her everything would be okay. That they could and would get through this together.

But she didn’t want that from him.

And years of hiding in plain sight had ingrained a self-protective instinct that had been finely honed by the fear of rejection from this woman who owned him.

Owned him and had no clue.

Just going by her reaction in the hotel that morning three days ago and now here, in the office, she still didn’t. That was his only saving grace in this whole mess. He might never be with the woman he loved, but at least he had his pride.

That and his annual binge ofA Christmas Storywould have to be enough.

“What’s our next step?” he asked Cole, his voice even, calm. Even though inside he wanted to growl,Fuck next steps.“What do you need from us?”

“Well, we have two options. You can file for divorce, or I can file an annulment.”

“What’s the difference? I mean, obviously, I know the difference,” Brooklyn said, waving a hand, “but what does that mean in the eyes of the court?”

“Simply put, a divorce declares the marriage legally over. A divorce acknowledges a valid union while an annulment regards the marriage null and void. Under the law, it never happened.”

“An annulment.” Brooklyn leaned forward. “That’s what we need. Do you agree?” She turned to Patrick, her gaze expectant behind her blue-framed glasses. And filled with hope.

A hope that cut him to the quick.

“Yes, that would probably be best,” he said, dipping his chin.

He really should’ve majored in theater instead of graphic design. Apparently, he was one hell of an actor.

“Let me give you all the information before making your decision. A divorce is much more commonplace than an annulment and easier to obtain. Your reasons can be as simple as irreconcilable differences. An annulment, on the other hand, requires specific conditions and criteria are met, and it can be harder to get the courts to grant one.” He rubbed a hand across his chin. “The court-acknowledged circumstances that are grounds for annulments are fake pretenses, mental incompetence, bigamy, underage marriage, incest, concealment and failure to consummate the marriage. I’m going to assume you weren’t tricked into marriage, neither of you already has a spouse, you’re not related and well...” He cleared his throat and winced. “What happened in that Vegas hotel room is your business.”

Brooklyn groaned, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling.

“Answer enough.” A smile jerked at Cole’s mouth before he continued, “But we can definitely make a case for mental incompetence since you were both under the influence of alcohol. If you’re certain this is how you want to move forward, I can get started tomorrow.”

“How...public will this all be?” Brooklyn whispered.

Cole cocked his head, and the sympathy in his eyes reflected in his voice.

“Court filings are public records and available to anyone who goes looking for them.”

“Shit,” she muttered.

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