Page 234 of By His Vow
Last night…
Fuck.
Easily the hottest sex of my life.
It’s probably exactly what every other newly married couple dreams of.
But we’re not every other married couple.
We’re not wildly in love and planning to spend the rest of our lives together.
We barely even like each other.
And yet…
“Tatum.”
My heart seizes in my chest as his deep voice lingers in the air.
I keep my eyes on him, but he doesn’t move.
He’s dreaming about you…
Fuck.
Ripping my gaze from him, I rush across the room and lock myself in the bathroom before freaking out.
My breaths come faster, and the room spins around me.
I’m married to Kingston Callahan.
I’m going to be his wife for the next year.
Lifting my hand, I stare down at my rings, my heart continuing to pound in my chest as reality settles on my shoulders.
It was easy to forget about it all last night after more than a few glasses of champagne and the fog of lust surrounding us.
But now, in the cold light of day…
“Fuck. What have I done?”
Spinning around, I press my palms against the granite countertop and stare at myself in the mirror.
My hair is wild, any hint of the pretty updo Marissa and her team did yesterday long gone—and so is the makeup, other than the smudged black eyeliner and mascara making me look even more tired and stressed than I really am.
Seconds and then minutes tick by as I continue to silently freak out. My thoughts flick erratically between memories of my time with Kingston over the past few weeks, our wedding day, and my time at the cottage with Aunt Lena.
I can remember every room as if it were my own home. The whole place is filled with laughter and happiness. Nothing like the home I grew up in.
A pained sigh spills from my lips.
It’s always been my happy place. A place I’ve retreated to when life got too hard. A place of solace and peace. A place where all my troubles ceased to exist for the days and weeks I was there.
Losing Aunt Lena a few years ago was hard. I hate to admit it, but it was harder than losing my father has been.
She was like a grandmother to me.
She was fifteen years older than my father. My grandfather’s illegitimate child when he was a teenager. She was a huge part of my father’s early years. His nanny, almost. She may have married an English man and moved across the pond, but she never forgot about me and Miles. She was like the grandmother I never had. Okay, sure, I did have grandparents for the first few years of my life, but they weren’t exactly involved.