Their marriage had been a train wreck from about the word go.
His bride so soused she woke up the next morning unable to remember his name, let alone why she’d agreed to marry him.
She’d been a hassle from the start. The kind of work he never invested in relationships. She’d taken time. She’d taken romancing. She’d kept him on his toes, kept him working, kept him guessing. She’d infuriated and confused him.
And he’d relished every minute of it.
It didn’t make sense.
In retrospect, Megan had basically brought every complication and frustration indicative of the love relationships he claimed to loathe to the table, and had him all but begging her to give him more.
She affected him like no one he’d ever met. And even knowing what kind of chaos she’d delivered upon his life...the idea of not having her in it was killing him.
Staring back at Jeff’s smug, smug face, he nodded. “Okay. I think I’ve got it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
SIX HOURS LATER, Connor tore down the stairs, patting his pockets as he went.
Wallet? Check.
Keys? Check.
Ring box? Burning a hole in his jacket pocket. Check.
A rushed glance at his watch and his adrenaline spiked. He could do this.
The flight left in forty minutes and he’d be on that plane even if it meant buying the damn airline to ensure it. And once he got to Denver— His stomach took a dive as a thousand scenarios flooded his mind...only one of which would bring about the happily-ever-after he’d only hours before come to terms with wanting.
Shoving all outcomes but that one from his mind, he grasped the knob from the front door and—
Ticket! He hadn’t printed the damn thing out, and after his phone’s tragic demise, he needed the paper.
Internet station in the kitchen!
Sprinting down the hall, he almost bit it skidding around the corner.
He needed to get there.
Needed to be with his wife.
Needed to tell her it could work between them. And not because of the reasons he’d been laying on her from the start, but because of all the reasons he’d figured out once she left. All the things he realized he couldn’t bear to live without.
Flipping open the computer, the black screen flashed to life, bringing up a background with a picture of the two of them at a charity dinner from the month before.
They were laughing. His fingers playing with a bit of her hair as they stared into each other’s eyes.
And the way he was looking at her...how the hell had he missed it?
He’d have to wait for the plane to figure it out. There wasn’t time now.
Bringing up the browser, he distractedly noted Megan’s email was still open from the last time she’d used the machine. About to open a new tab for the airline, he paused as one of the boldfaced messages caught his eye and the preview shattered his plans.
It was from the sperm bank, dated five days prior.
Subject: Per your inquiry, Donor #43409089RS1 available for immediate pickup.
* * *
Megan had brought this on herself.
Blinking down at her tablet, perched on the pass-through counter dividing her kitchen and living room, she sat, a silent observer to the video chat that was Gail, Jodie and Tina’s rally of support.
“Oh, and you’re really surprised he got away?”
What had she been thinking?
“Shut it. You saw the way he looked at her during the reception.”
“Shut it? Nice talk, Tina.”
Well, she’d been hoping a triple dose of misery in the form of this fingernails-down-a-blackboard bickering might distract her from the misery that had begun in her heart and then slowly, steadily spread until it had overtaken every part of her being.
No such luck.
Where was a white-chocolate martini when she needed one? A white-chocolate martini of birdbath proportions with a garden hose–size Crazy Straw to expedite consumption.
“Are you joking?” Tina leaned around Gail to scowl at Jodie.
Not that she’d be able to drink it, even if one materialized out of thin air. The thought alone had her belly kicking up rebellion enough she had to close her eyes and draw several deep breaths through her nose.