Page 50 of One Bet

“And leave our love nest and all those memories from our eleven days of marriage?” I scoffed. On the outside, unaffected. Borderline rude, even. But inside… so affected. “Never even considered it.”

Except every other day and twice a day on PMS week.

“Those memories kept me warm on many a lonely night.” He looked me up and down leaving a trail of heat. And all that burgeoning heat pissed me off. How dare he once-over me? And how dare he use my memories for his sick pleasure? My memories. My sick pleasure. Fucking confusion.

I sighed. Enough was enough. “What do you want, Finn?”

He shook his head and chuckled. “I don’t even know how to say this.”

Oh, dear God. “Just say it.”

My voice cracking in the middle absolutely did not mean I was hoping he’d ask to fuck his way down memory lane.

He smiled and reached out as if he planned to touch me. I moved back. “Always so tough.”

Yeah. That was right. I was too tough to be hung up on a guy who waited just long enough for the going to get tough before he got the hell out of Glouster.

“I’m busy, Finn.” I swept my arm toward the mountain of Christmas decorations I’d liberated from their attic exile. The city had already sent me a letter for breeching my agreement with them. And now it was either hang the lights by Christmas Eve or pay the $1,000 fine to make up for the tax break I got when I refinanced.

“Right.” Now he wouldn’t look at me and my stomach churned. I’d seen this whole routine before, and it hadn’t ended well for me. His Adam’s apple bobbed once then again. “I’m engaged.”

Oh shit.

“That’s great.” I lied and hid behind a fuck-you smile as my body clenched in anger, maybe even regret. It was also stupid of me to continue standing there staring at my love-life past when I had Christmas future to hate. I opened a box and stared at the little houses inside that belonged to the perfect Christmas town. Oh, yeah. This box could wait until last.

“Lis.”

His voice, or more the softness of it, cut me. Deep. That had to be where the tears came from.

“What?” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“There’s more.”

Well, of course, there was more. Why wouldn’t there be? Otherwise, he could’ve handled this news with an invitation, or an announcement sent through the US Postal Service. “Okay.”

One-word answers in a squeaky tone were about all I could manage.

“Our divorce is…apparently, we’re still married. After I signed them and sent them back, did you file the papers?”

My mouth dropped open. He was accusing me? Making this my fault? “Of course, I filed the papers.”

The ones he’d mailed back to me. I’d opened them and a bottle of tequila at the same time, but I clearly remembered waking up early, rolling out of bed, throwing up…everything else was a blur but I would’ve never hung onto them considering how badly I wanted him to know I wanted to be free of him. I had to have filed them. And no way in hell did I burn those papers in the fireplace. That part had been a dream. A weird little drunken dream.

Oh shit.

“So, we’re still married?”

He ran his hands through his hair.

“I’m supposed to get married on Christmas Eve.” But if I had to give my opinion under oath in a court, I would have had to say he didn’t look so happy or excited about it. “I’m supposed to be spending Christmas in Hawaii. With my wife.”

“Awesome. I just got a new swimsuit, it was on clearance online…” And my laughter might have been inappropriate considering this was probably, I was willing to admit to about ninety-four percent certain, my fault.

“Oh relax. You can still marry her. It just won’t be official yet.” He shot me a glare, and I rolled my eyes in response. “Don’t worry. Your little St. Nick is still gonna get his jolly in Paradise. We just have to go to the courthouse tomorrow. We’ll talk to the judge and I’ll explain. They’re very sympathetic around here to stupid mistakes. Remember?”

Okay. That part was just nasty. “We’ll get divorced in time for your wedding. Don’t worry.”

“It’s going to be that easy, huh?” He cocked one eyebrow over the eyes I’d never gotten over and I could’ve swooned.