Chapter Thirty-Nine

Amber

My stomach was a jumble of nerves. I wasn’t sure I was up for another Martin family dinner. Harry assured me it was going to be fine. They weren’t privy to all the drama that had gone on between the three of us. William would be on his best behavior, he promised.

No matter how much he assured me, I was still nervous as hell.

“You look great. Relax,” Harry told me, coming out of the bedroom.

We were at his house getting ready. I had gone shopping yesterday, looking for the perfect dress for what Harry called a laid-back family dinner. His idea of relaxed and mine were very different. My relaxed family dinners meant shoes were optional. Hell, pants and shirts with minimal stains were perfectly acceptable. I didn’t think we had the same idea about casual clothing at all.

I had gone with a pretty flowing skirt and a short-sleeve matching sweater. It was a little warm, but it was all I could find in my price range.

“Are you sure this is going to be okay?”

“Yes! Stop worrying. Let’s go. I don’t want to be late. Then we’ll be forced to make a grand entrance.”

“No! I’m ready. Let’s go!”

I laughed behind her as she practically ran out the door. We were having drinks with both parents in the sitting room when William and Tiffany arrived.

“Did you know about this?” I whispered to Harry.

He shook his head. “No. I have a feeling it was last minute.”

We watched as Tiffany apologized to the Martins and explained how they had worked everything out.

“It was a bad case of the jitters,” William said with his charming smile.

Harry and I smiled and nodded. His hand was on my leg as we sat next to each other on one of the small sofas.

“I’m glad the two of you worked everything out,” Harry said in a congenial tone.

Tiffany looked at me, and I could see the woman’s hatred for me. I wasn’t sure if William had filled her on the details of their little break. I hoped not, only because I didn’t want to risk the issue coming up later. I would hate for my dirty laundry to be aired out after someone had too much to drink.

“Well, I’ll go let the staff know we have one more for dinner,” Harry’s mother said before flitting out of the room.

William took a seat in one of the chairs facing us. “Don’t you two look cozy,” he sneered.

“We are. You should consider getting cozy with your future wife. The ice queen could use a little thawing,” Harry shot back.

I pushed my elbow into his side, warning him to back off. I didn’t want to find myself in the middle of a family squabble.

“My lovely fiancée was gracious enough to take me back. I don’t think we need to bore her with any of the details of our sordid family trouble,” William said in a low voice.

“I agree,” I quickly chimed in. “I think its best if we leave it all in the past.”

Harry slapped his knee. “Well, hell, that sounds good to me.”

Tiffany sauntered over and sat like a regal queen in the remaining armchair. “What sounds good to you?” she asked.

“Oh, my brother here was telling us how the two of you worked everything out and the wedding is back on,” Harry said with fake enthusiasm.

“Yes, we did. I’ve made a few phone calls, but I have hundreds more to make. With our family connections, the number of people invited is ridiculous. We had barely gotten through calling everyone to tell them it was off and now we need to turn right back around and tell them we were only kidding,” she said with a smile.

“It will be okay, dear,” William soothed. “Anyone who matters will be there. They will understand the pressures of planning a wedding and how stressful it can be.”

I watched the two of them interact. I almost felt bad for William. Tiffany didn’t love him. They barely looked at each other. He didn’t lean over to touch her hand or rub her leg. Harry was far more hands on. It made me feel loved and cherished. I didn’t like Tiffany, but it was sad she would never know what that was like. William didn’t love her and would never treat her like that.

“We can go in to dinner,” Mrs. Martin announced from the doorway.

Harry helped me up, and as was his way, he placed his hand on the small of my back. We let Tiffany and William go ahead of us. They kept their distance from one another. They each held their chins high like the proud couple they were, but they never once looked at each other.

“It’s sad,” I whispered to Harry as we trailed behind.

“It’s their choice,” he replied, knowing exactly what I was talking about.

“Are they allowed to divorce if they’re completely miserable?”

“Yep. It’s almost a guarantee they will. They’ll make new connections as a married couple. They’ll meet new people. Eventually, they’ll realize it’s time to branch out and expand the social circle, and they’ll each remarry. It’s how things are done in our world.”

“Won’t that be awkward when they run into each other at functions and stuff?” I asked.

He laughed. “For normal people, I’m sure it would be. I think they are going into this marriage with the understanding they’ll divorce down the road. I doubt there will be any hard feelings. It’s just the way they are.”

“I’m so glad you are the family outcast. I can’t imagine you ever living like that.”

“Me either. Don’t think you’re going to be divorcing me anytime soon. You’re mine, and it’s going to stay that way.”

I laughed a little too loudly. Everyone turned to look at us. “Sorry,” I apologized and felt my cheeks burning.

We took our seats and managed to get through the rest of the dinner without me doing or saying anything too embarrassing. Tiffany did her best to talk to me, but I knew she didn’t want to. I was too far beneath her for her to waste her time on. She asked about the ring, and I happily showed it off. She pretended to be impressed. I had a feeling she was going to hound William to buy her a bigger and better one. Mine was too close in size to hers. It would never do for a peasant to have a diamond bigger than the queen’s.

“Everything okay?” Harry asked, leaning over to whisper in my ear.

I nodded. “It’s fine.”

“Is she being polite?”

I smiled. “Yes, but I think William will be buying her a new ring. Mine is a little too impressive I think.”

Harry laughed. “I’ll buy you a bigger one.”

I shook my head. “Don’t you dare. This one is absolutely perfect.”

“I know.”

When it was time for us to leave, I felt much better about our future. Tiffany was always going to be Tiffany. We were never going to be best friends, but we would both have to accept we were going to be sisters, even if it was only by marriage. I could get through the occasional evenings I would have to spend with her as part of the family.

I could do just about anything with my future husband by my side. He gave me strength and was always there to remind me I was as good as the rest of them. He was very protective of me, which I hadn’t even known I liked until he had shown me what it felt like to be cherished. The man spoiled me.

We were walking to his car when he stopped and pulled me against him.

“Move in with me,” he blurted out.

“Harry!”

“I’m serious. We’re going to get married. Why can’t we live together? This is the twenty-first century. We’ve spent every night together this week. I don’t want to ever sleep alone,” he said, his lips coming down on mine to give me a quiet, pleading kiss.

“Or you could move in with me,” I said, testing his response.

“Okay. Whatever works,” he said and kissed me again.

I burst into laughter. “Yeah, right! Like you would want to move into my tiny little apartment.”

He shook his head. “I don’t care where I live as long as you’re there. I don’t need much space.”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” he asked.

“I’ll move in with you.”

He grabbed my hand, and we walked toward his car. “I thought I was moving in with you.”

“I was testing you. I want to live in your much bigger place. I have a lot of clothes. I can’t afford to give up any closet space, and I have seen how many clothes you have. We’re both clothing hoarders. We can’t live in my apartment unless we have a big yard sale or donate half our wardrobes,” I told him.

He slapped a hand over his chest. “I can’t do that! My place it is!”

On the drive home, he had another idea. “We should buy a house. That will be our wedding gift to ourselves.”

“We have to buy ourselves a wedding gift?”

“You know what I mean. I want a house, a real house with a big garden. I’m going to start house hunting,” he said, nodding his head as if his mind were made up.

“How big of a house are you talking?” I asked, a little worried about living in a mansion like his parents had.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. A few bedrooms in a nice neighborhood with a huge backyard. The kids will need somewhere to play.”

My mouth dropped. “Kids?”

“Well, yeah. You want kids, don’t you? If not, no worries. I guess I can have a few dogs.”

“No. I mean yes. I mean yes, I want kids. I think we have a lot to talk about before we get married,” I said, laughing.

“Yes, we do, and we have time to work out all the kinks,” he vowed.

When we got back to his place, we stripped out of our dinner clothes. I loved how easy it was to be around him, even when I was only wearing underwear. The man had worshipped my body so many times in so many different ways, I couldn’t possibly be embarrassed anymore. He knew my body better than I did at this point.

“I love you,” I said, curled up next to him on the couch.

“I love you.”

We sat, content with one another’s company, and watched some stupid reality show about bad tattoos. We both agreed to never tattoo each other’s names on our bodies. It seemed like a death knell for most relationships.

“My mom is going to be hounding you to pin down a date for our wedding,” he said as we headed off to bed. “She cornered me tonight. I told her I wasn’t sure what you had in mind.”

I shrugged. “I think a year is sufficient. Don’t you?”

“Works for me. Plenty of time to let the fanfare of William’s wedding die down and plenty of time to figure out what kind of dog we’re going to have as well as how many kids,” he said.

“Good. Then it’s settled. This time next year I will be Mrs. Harry Martin,” I said with a smile, envisioning my future with the man who had come out of nowhere and claimed my heart.

We both laughed and climbed into bed. After a session of sex in which Harry outdid himself yet again, I fell asleep dreaming about weddings and flowers.