Page 61 of Why Not Forever?
“Why wouldn’t I?”
I shrug. “I guess, when I proposed this marriage, I didn’t really expect you to go all in on my family. We’re kind of a lot.”
“You are. And I admit, if I get Keith, I’ll be hard pressed to get him more than a lump of coal, but…” It’s her turn to shrug. “If we married for the usual reasons, I’d be all in on your family. Besides, except for your one brother, I like everyone else. It’s kind of nice to be part of a big group of chaos every once in a while.”
I laugh. “Every once in a while. Try being part of it all day, every day. I’m actually glad you made me move to Vancouver. And don’t worry about Keith. Mom rigs the draw so she or Dad get his name every year. He gets either her or Dad.”
“Why?”
I blow out a long breath. “One year, Keith got Skylar’s name. It was her first year in the draw. She’s the oldest of my nieces and nephews, so it was kind of exciting, you know? Well, Christmas came, and he didn’t get her anything. She cried when she saw there was nothing for her.”
Vic makes a sound of distress, but I don’t look over.
“She went into the bathroom, and everyone pretended we didn’t notice. There wasn’t really anything anyone could do. If we’d tried to give her one of our presents, she would know. I took her out after Christmas and said she could get whatever she wanted. Ever since, Skylar is the only one who doesn’t take part in the gift exchange and Mom rigs it so no one else gets Keith and he doesn’t get anyone other than Mom or Dad.”
“He should have been banned.”
“That’s what Brooke, Wyatt, and I said.” I grimace. “Harper has a soft spot for him. So do Mom and Dad. Since the vote was split, we went with the current situation.”
“So Skylar doesn’t get any presents at Christmas anymore?”
“She does. Brooke and Gerry always get her something. They’re her parents, after all. I’m not sure what they do between her and her siblings. That’s separate from the family one. And there’s always a present for her under the tree. No one knows where it comes from. No one claims to have put it there. It just shows up at some point before Christmas.”
Vic snorts, and I glance at her again. She’s grinning at me. “Tanner Marcus, I am your wife, so you are going to tell me the truth. You put that present under the tree, don’t you?”
I grin at her accusation, irrationally happy that she guessed correctly. I give her a wink, but don’t admit it out loud. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mrs. Marcus. Everyone assumes Mom or Brooke puts it there.”
“Tell me something,Mr. Marcus.” She places her hand on my knee and my whole body heats at the simple touch. “Are your insides made of strictly marshmallow?”
And so I’m laughing when we pull into the hotel’s valet parking.
Because she had started it by putting her hand on my knee, when we get out of the car, I put my arm around her waist to go inside to check in. The easy camaraderie continues right up until the moment we open our hotel room door and see the one king-sized bed. I swallow hard as I look at it, thinking of Vic lying in that bed next to me tonight.
We’d discussed it already and—because it’s a king, there’s a mile of space, and we’re both adults—we’re going to share the bed. There doesn’t need to be anything sexual about it. But I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about it.
“You want to go for a walk around the village?” Vic asks, clearly not as affected by the single bed as I am.
“Sure,” I say, pushing up my glasses and running a hand through my hair, trying to reset my thoughts. “Give me a couple minutes to get organized. You want to go shopping?”
“I was thinking about it. Just looking in some stores.” She meets my eyes. “Unless you’re tired. That was kind of a long drive. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
I shake my head. “It was only a couple hours. I’ll come. We’re supposed to be on our honeymoon. What would people think if we weren’t together?”
Vic pats my arm. “No one is here. They won’t know. Besides that, no one would hold it against you if my husband decides to nap instead of coming shopping with me.”
I grab her hand before she can move away. “I would. Let me get my coat and wallet.”
The smile she gives me makes me want to pull her closer, maybe steal a kiss. That’s what I would do if she were really mine.
But she isn’t.
A fact I must keep reminding myself throughout the day as we wander the shops in Whistler Village, laughing, talking, touching. I don’t really think about it when we left the room with my arm around her waist again. I let her go in the first shop, and when we’re done in there, she links her arm through mine. She doesn’t hesitate to take my hand when she wants to show me something, which I take as permission to pull her close when we’re waiting for our lattes at a café. To anyone watching, we’d look like a real couple, and I can’t stop my heart from wondering if maybe we could be.
We have dinner reservations, courtesy of Richard and Karen. The dim light of the restaurant is supposed to create ambiance, but I kind of wish I could see her better. She’s wearing a navy blue dress that brings out the colour of her eyes. Her black hair is styled up, but with a few locks falling down, curling around her face. She looks stunning and I want to be able to drink her in.
I pick up the menu and set it back down almost immediately. It doesn’t matter how much money is in my bank account or how many times I come to fancy restaurants, prices like these always make me anxious.
“Remember,” Vic says without looking at me. “Tonight’s on Dad. He’s already given them his credit card information and told them to refuse if we try to pay.”
