Page 83 of The Wrong Groom

By the time Gabriel heads to the register, he’s laden down with at least ten novels, not including the three cat books Peyton carries as she follows in his wake. I hang back, perusing the shelves a little longer as Gabriel checks out.

I slowly wander around a display table, reading the blurbs on the backs of the debut novels gathered there. I’m broken out of my reverie by someone tapping me on the shoulder.

“Alexis! Hey! Long time no see.”

My heart drops instantly as I recognize the voice. It’s Travis.

I stiffen, my body tensing instinctively. Right now, he’s possibly the last person I want to see.

I turn slowly, forcing a smile as I face him. Travis stands there a few feet away, looking exactly the same as he always does: polished, confident, and with that too-perfect smile that makes me feel uneasy. I’ve never been able to trust it.

“Travis,” I say, keeping my tone cool, trying to sound politely disinterested. “Hi. What are you doing here?”

“A little gift shopping,” he tells me, stepping closer to the display table, closer to me. He makes a face, as if gift shopping is the worst thing in the world and everyone knows it. Then the grin slips back into place. “I take it you’re here for personal reasons, eh? Always knew you were a big reader.”

“Um… yeah,” I say, tentatively shifting away from him.

Travis notices it, his gaze trailing my movement, although he doesn’t seem to care much. He steps closer anyway, as if to assert his place in the conversation. He chuckles lightly, like his intrusion on my personal space is somehow funny.

“You like those romance novels, right? The steamy ones.”

I hum in response, not wanting to get dragged into a conversation. I want to make this as brief as possible.

“Yeah, I remember now,” he says. “I always wondered if that meant anything about how you’d be in bed. Like, you read so much smut, you must be a total freak, right?”

I gape in shock, feeling my blood run cold at his words. My first instinct is to turn and walk away, but I’m frozen to the spot, unable to move. “Th-that’s n-not⁠—”

“Oh, lighten up,” he tells me. “It’s a joke.”

Before I can respond, I feel a sudden shift at my side. It’s Gabriel, holding a thick paper bag filled with the books he just purchased. His presence is an immediate comfort, and instinctively, I press myself closer to him as his sharp eyes scan Travis, then drop to look me over as if reading the situation. He seems to understand what’s happening at once.

“You need to back off.” There’s nothing friendly in Gabriel’s voice. His posture is intimidating, his body language radiating authority, and there’s no mistaking the warning in his tone.

Travis doesn’t seem fazed at first, his smile still present, but there’s a flicker of something darker in his eyes. “What’s the matter? You don’t want to let Alexis have a little fun with an old friend?”

Gabriel’s jaw tightens. “Whatever this was, it didn’t seem like she was having much fun.”

I’m frozen, torn between gratitude and unease as Travis’s smirk falters, his mask of charm slipping just enough to reveal the frustration beneath. A scowl twists his features. It looks more natural on his face than the plastic smile he usually wears.

“Wow,” he sneers. “Real knight in shining armor, aren’t you? Is this part of your arrangement too? She gets a fucking bodyguard?”

Gabriel’s hand rests on my side. “Seriously. I’m not going to say it again. Back. Off.”

Travis’s gaze drops to me, and I press closer to Gabriel. Then he huffs and turns on his heel, his shoulders stiff with barely suppressed anger. He stalks away, disappearing into the bookstore’s tight corners and high shelves. As soon as he’s gone, I breathe out, trying to loosen the uncomfortable constricted feeling in my chest.

Gabriel watches him go, his hand staying firm at my side until Travis turns the corner. Only then does he glance down at me, his brows drawing together. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice quieter now as Peyton steps up beside us, her nose still buried in one of her new books.

I nod. “I—I think so.” I look up, meeting his gaze. “Thank you.”

“Of course. You don’t have to thank me. You shouldn’t have to deal with someone like that.” His gray eyes shift in the direction Travis disappeared, and his brow furrows, a shadow flitting across his face. “That asshole needs to get it through his head.”

“What?”

Gabriel’s arm pulls me closer, tighter. Firm, but not harsh. “You’re mine,” he says simply, the words low and deliberate. A shiver goes through my body at the possessive edge in his voice.

You’re mine.

The implication is clear, undeniable. It’s a declaration. A claim.