Page 31 of From Grumpy to Forever
“I don’t think it’s necessary, to be honest.”
“What if someone is watching?”
“Who would be watching?”
Again, he shrugged. “Tilley Beckett.”
My eyes widened. “You really think that?”
“I think it’s a small town and there are eyes everywhere.”
That was fair. I still wasn’t used to the way everyone knew everyone and their business in Trickle Creek. “Okay, well—oh!”
Reid scooped me up so quickly and unexpectedly that I almost dropped my flowers. Reflexively, I wrapped my arms around his neck and looked up into his dark eyes.
His lips twitched up into what might have been the start of a smile. “I didn’t mean to startle you, wife.”
Wife.
I tried not to focus on the word. Or his strong arms that were currently wrapped underneath me, pulling me close into the hard wall of muscle of his chest.
Or his smell.
Something that was pure manliness.
“Here we go.” He hitched me a little higher in his arms before easily crossing the threshold into the inn.
Reid kicked the door shut behind him, his eyes never leaving mine.
A shiver ran through me as I looked up at my husband.
He might be a giant grump. And this might all be fake. But damn, he was sexy.
I couldn’t help but be disappointed when he set me on my feet and took a step back.
The inn smelled of paint and sawdust, two scents I was quickly coming to love because they meant progress was being made.
“I cleared out a room for you. It’s the first one on the left.” I pointed toward the stairs unnecessarily. “I’m sorry about the bed. I have to order all new mattresses when…well, when the money comes through.” I blew out a breath. “So, you get an air mattress. I hope it’s not too uncomfortable.”
“It’ll be fine.” He nodded. “Thank you.”
I dropped my hands to my sides. “Well, I’ll let you get settled. I’m just…” I looked behind me. Any other night, and I’d probably change into my work clothes and work on something, but it didn’t feel quite right to pick up a paintbrush on my wedding night.
Wedding night.
I forced any and all feelings that those words conjured out of my brain.
Reid seemed to sense my discomfort. He hitched the strap of his duffel up on his shoulder and, with a nod, headed toward the stairs. I watched him climb the stairs, a strange sensation of disappointment filling me.
But that was stupid. What did I expect to happen? It was a fake marriage. We hardly knew each other.
Still…
“Reid,” I called, the word slipping out before I could stop it.
He stopped, turning halfway to look at me.
“Thanks,” I said lamely. “For…well, for all of this,” I finished, my voice softer than I intended.
