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Well, that went worse than I expected.
He looks at the biscuits and gravy on his plate and trades it for Grayson’s plate across the table. When I give him a look that plainly says what the hell are you doing, he says, “I didn’t look at what the special was when I ordered it. I wore his tux…might as well eat his breakfast, too.”
I reach for his biscuits and gravy and eat one along with everything on my own plate.
Good thing we got married last night. That dress wouldn’t fit me any longer after this breakfast.
We head upstairs, both of us feeling like shit and not really sure what to do to make this right.
I lay down and close my eyes, but I can’t sleep—especially not with the man pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed. “What are you doing?” I ask.
“Pacing,” he says.
“Well…can you stop?”
He shoots me a glare.
“Don’t be mad at me,” I say.
“Why not? This was all your idea!” he yells.
“My idea was to protect the vineyard. You know Amelia. She’d sell the damn place off for parts, and I wanted to keep it in the family, and this was my best shot at doing that. I never thought we’d get blackout drunk, and I wouldn’t even remember my own goddamn wedding.”
“Neither did I,” he mutters.
“Look, Spencer, we’re in this together. Let’s not turn on each other. Let’s figure out how to fix this.”
“You’re right,” he says. He sits on the edge of the bed. “So…how?”
I try to think it through, but my brain is still foggy. “I have no idea.” A shower might help clear my mind, but I don’t have any clothes with me.
Obviously.
I got married in someone else’s dress, not that I brought a wedding dress along with me.
On that note, I pick up the phone on the nightstand and call guest services to have my suitcase sent up.
“I’m going to shower,” he announces as he stands and steals my idea before I get a chance to.
I lean back against the headboard as I wait for my bag, and it arrives shortly after.
I grab my phone and pull up a browser.
How to make it up to someone when you wore her wedding dress.
That particular search doesn’t quite yield the results I’m looking for.
I don’t know what will ever yield the results I’m looking for, but this is a real problem.
I got him to marry me, I guess. But this isn’t really what I was picturing when I came up with this plan.
Guilt racks me, and I know we have to figure out some way to make this right. I can’t have Spencer’s brother mad at him, and his bride mad at me, and a division splitting the family apart. What sort of way is that to start a marriage?
And I’m not referring to Grayson and Ava, though starting a marriage based on a contract rather than based on love isn’t really rooted in reality either.
Not that we have a contract.
Spencer’s phone starts to ring, and I glance at the screen.
