Wyatt-1(Lane Brothers, Book 1)(194)

“Han.”

I keep muttering to myself as I sip my ginger ale and eye their vodka cranberries with a greedy eye.

“Son of a bitch, do you know what he sai—”

“Han!” Lena yells, getting my attention.

“What?”

“He hasn’t shown you — that asshole. I warned him.”

With that she rips her purse open and pulls out a white envelope that I recognize vaguely.

“Here. Read it.”

I take the thing and hold it like it’s a snake, giving her a glower that doesn’t quite reach my eyes.

“If this is what I think it is, I’ll pass, thanks. I—”

“Oh for God’s sake, just look at it already.”

I roll my eyes and pull out what I know is her wedding invitation, the very same design I’d haggled with the printers over. What I see though…

“What the hell is this?”

“His very stupid, yet romantic declaration of love?” she asks.

As I look down at the gold scrawl I feel myself burst with joy.

“That man is such a tool.”

But a tool who loves me, if this invitation tells the story.





Chapter Thirty Nine




When Nat and Lena leave, I do what I should have done months ago and go stalker on my husband. I search everything he owns and find nothing. It’s as I’m slumped dejectedly at his desk that I realize I’m going about this the wrong way.

Of course I won’t find anything worthwhile in his things; he’s not interested in controlling himself, because it’s me he’s been after for months. What I find when I go through my drawers pisses me off as much as it warms my heart.

A quick internet search later and I am totally sure that he’s been playing me the whole time. Sure, it’s kinda sweet and romantic, if you go in for being married to a psycho.

I’m not that girl, so instead of having the warm and cuddlies I’m so furious I could spit.

I keep the rage festering all day and into the evening hours till I hear his footsteps crunching up the drive and to the door. When he walks in and sees me he smiles broadly and prowls my way, giving me his most charming heavy-lidded stare.

“Darlin’, you look good enough to eat,” he drawls, intensifying the look with a carnal onceover and a predatory smile.

It vanishes when I drop my birth control and the wedding invitation on the coffee table, his wince telling me everything I need to know.

“Han—”

“You must be the most ruthless, controlling man I have ever met,” I say between gritted teeth, daring him to explain it all.

Greg takes a step back when I rise, my fists balled at my sides.

“You are such a liar!” I yell, getting worked up the longer he takes to confess his—

I don’t even know what to call this. It takes his controlling ways to a new level of low and—

“The wedding thing… I can’t even begin to explain how weird that is, but the birth control! Jesus, Greg, do you know how wrong that is? We’re already married! You didn’t have to swap out my pills. We could have talked about it.”

“And what?” he demands, flinging his hands up. “You would have done what you always do and told me to relax. I can’t… You have to understand, once I have a plan I follow it to the letter. You make… You never do what I expect you to, and it drives me crazy!”

My eyes roll heavenward, and I flop back to the sofa with a sigh.

“So you swapped out my birth control. Why?”

He runs his hands through his hair and flings his jacket and tie to the table before pinning me with his gaze, a gaze that is as steely as it is pleading.

“You were so happy when you found out you weren’t pregnant, while I…was devastated,” he admits. “I was going to propose to you that morning after the tests came back positive…”

“But—”

“And then it was negative, and I was so angry at you for being so happy about it. I thought if you’re that thrilled about being free of me… So I called Lena and told her the wedding was a surprise, that she should play along… Hell, I guess I just wanted to hurt you for making me feel… I don’t… I wanted everything arranged so that you couldn’t back out when the time came.”

He’s so at odds with the sure and authoritative man I know that I realize exactly what his intentions were. He’d made me plan my own goddamned wedding, knowing how much it hurt me, all for a little revenge and the chance to get what he wanted without making himself vulnerable.

I should be furious. I should kick him in the balls and make him suffer for the way I’d felt. And for tricking me into getting pregnant. There are a million things I should be doing right now instead of allowing that warm, squishy feeling to invade me as I watch him flounder desperately.