Page 69 of Married to Lies

“I’m not a damn stalker,” I huffed.

“Sureeee,” she said, drawing out the word like she didn’t believe me, but the smile on her face was pure mischief.

Shaking my head, I grumbled, “We’re going to Paris.”

Her eyebrows rose even higher, forming lines on her forehead that hadn’t been there just moments ago. “Can a helicopter make it that far?”

“Paris, Texas,” I clarified. “I thought we could have a rehearsal dinner, just you and me.”

Her lip pouted out like she’d just seen a puppy in a teacup. “That’s so thoughtful, Q. Who would have thought under all that muscle and the strong, silent act, you’re a big ol’ teddy bear.”

The pilot chuckled again. “He sure is.”

“Ash, stop listening in, or you’re not my friend anymore.” I was only half joking.

“You know I can’t do that, Teddy.”

“I hate you,” I mumbled while Rei’s throaty laugh filled the speakers.

“It’s okay if your friends know you’re nice,” she said. “But don’t worry. We’ll keep your secret, won’t we, Ash?”

“It’s gonna cost him,” Ash replied.

Rei laughed evilly. “I like you, Ash.”

I shook my head at the pair. They’d known each other for less than half an hour and were already plotting against me. “Focus on the road,” I said.

“We’re in the air,” Ash rebutted.

I grunted. “You know what I mean.”

With a wicked smile, Rei looked over at me. “Ready to be married to this?”

My stomach heated. “More than you know.”

Her lips tilted for a moment and then fell.

“What is it?” I asked, chest feeling tight.

She hesitated for a moment before looking out the window. “Oh my gosh, I think I see the Eiffel Tower!”

Looking out my window at the dimming horizon, I tried to pick out which twinkling light she thought was the tower.

Ash came over the speakers saying, “We land in about twenty minutes. We’ll be there soon.”

31 Rei

A limo waited for us along the small airport runway where we landed, and the driver took us along a dark highway to the Eiffel Tower, where we’d be getting married in just three days. I thought I’d be seeing it for the first time on my wedding day, but Quentin led me to a white tent set up near its base.

A server held back a flap for us, inviting us into the warm space. Once we were inside, he excused himself to get our meal.

“You did all this?” I asked, looking in wonder at the dining table. Twinkle lights hung along the seams, and ahead of us, the imitation Eiffel Tower glittered through a plastic window.”

He nodded and said, “Do you like it?”

“Oh yes.” I nodded quickly. “If you ignore the cowboy hat and the lack of people, it’s easy to pretend it’s the real thing.” I grinned. “The cowboy hat reminds me of the time I went to Paris and saw the giant tennis ball hung up for Wimbledon.”

He walked closer to the window, looking incredibly handsome in his charcoal-gray perfectly-tailored suit. “Can you believe we’ll be getting married here in three days?” I couldn’t read the emotion behind his question, and that made me uncomfortable. My early childhood trauma meant I was excellent at reading people, but not Quentin.