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“Well, that’s where it gets a little crazy.”
“That’s where?” he claps in.
I clear my throat. “We were drinking tequila, and we ordered some appetizers. As it turns out, he has an allergy to mustard, too, and the sauce we ate had mustard in it. We both reacted, and we took some Benadryl, and I guess Benadryl plus tequila equals—”
“Blackout,” he supplies, interrupting me.
“Yeah. The rest of the night is a total blur. But a wedding certificate in our room tells me it happened.”
“Please, please, please tell me you two were lucid enough to draft up a prenup.” He’s begging me, and for the first time, I realize I’m heir to an asset Spencer could take from me if he was so inclined.
After the kiss we shared last night, right after he gave me the tenderest look anyone has ever looked upon me with, I can’t really believe he’d have it in him to do that.
But maybe.
“No. We weren’t.”
He sighs heavily. “I’ll get Farnsworth on a postnup, then. For both your sakes.”
A postnup? What the hell is a postnup? “What’s a postnup?” I ask more politely than my brain drums up the question.
“Same thing as a prenup, except it takes place after the vows. It protects you both in the event of a divorce, which I assume is imminent after a year’s time, right?”
“I, uh…actually I have no idea.” Initially, yes. That was the plan.
But now…it sort of feels like maybe there’s a chance for us to make it beyond that.
We’re compatible. I like him. I feel like maybe he likes me, too.
I take an Uber toward the Strip and do a little shopping at Caesar’s Palace, and then I return to the Palms and start getting ready for the wedding.
I’ve just slipped my shoes on when Spencer walks through the door, and he stops short when he sees me.
“Wow,” he says quietly.
He’s wearing gray pants, a navy Nike polo shirt, and a visor, and he just looks so…athletic. And hot.
“How was golf?” I ask, my mouth suddenly dry. I’m nervous. I’ve never been nervous around him, but somehow, something changed between us last night when he knew exactly what I needed. He took care of me. He made sure I felt safe.
No one has ever made sure I felt safe before—not like that, anyway.
He held me all night, and I know it was because he was worried about me.
It was sweet. It was caring.
One might even call it loving.
His eyes are still moving up and down my length, his jaw a little slackened. “Nothing compared to coming back here and seeing you.”
My cheeks burn with heat at his words.
“I, uh…I need to take a quick shower and get dressed for the wedding,” he says. “How was your day?”
“Fine. I told my dad about us,” I mention casually.
“Oh, shit. Will he tell Amelia?”
I shake my head. “He’ll let me have those honors. He mentioned a prenup, to which I told him we hadn’t been coherent enough for one. So he said something about a postnup, which I’ve never heard of, but he’s having his lawyer draft something up.”
