Page 33 of The Marriage Clause

"Welcome to the family, sis."

I let out a humorless little laugh. "Don't get attached. I won't be here long."

Everly glances toward Everett, and I do too. He looks away the second he catches us watching him.

He was staring at me.

When I look back at Everly, she's smirking. "I wouldn't be so sure if I were you."

Before I can respond, she lifts her phone again. "Lana, my stylist, is coming tomorrow evening to fill your closet, so be ready. I guessed your shoe size, but she's bringing multiple options just in case. You'll love her. She's incredible." She scrolls, smiling to herself. "She'll have you dressing like an official Kauffman in no time. Everett told me no budget, so you're getting the full treatment. She's shopping now, and the things she's pulling for you are obscene in the best way."

I blink. "No budget?"

My gaze drifts back to Everett. He's standing by the window now, one hand in his pocket, his phone in the other, like the whole conversation has nothing to do with him.

"That's not necessary," I say quietly. "I don't need to owe him more."

"Owe him?" Everly arches a brow. "Aria, my brother is a lot of things. Transactional isn't one of them. He just needs you to think he is. He thinks it’s safer that way. I keep telling him he’s an idiot but he won’t listen to me. None of them do."

Before I can unpack that, her phone pings again.

She literally yips, jumps to her feet, and grabs my arm.

"You are never going to believe this, but I just got you a fitting with the top wedding dress designer in Seattle tomorrow morning." Her eyes are shining now. "She's calling in a huge favor for me, but no one turns down a Kauffman bride. She has a year-long waiting list, so we'll have to go with a design off one of her racks, but she can tweak it enough to make it yours."

"Everly, I don't need all of this —"

Another notification dings.

She glances at the screen and groans. "PR needs me in the office. I have to go. But I'll see you tomorrow, and I cannot wait.

Everly heads for the door, Christian right behind her. The jeweler already left after getting Everett's signature on the invoice. Jeremy disappeared minutes ago with his tablet, his phone, and his supernatural ability to manage twelve crises without making eye contact with a single human being.

And then it's just me and Everett in a penthouse far too big for two people.

I drift toward the wall of glass. The city is spread out below, all steel and ferries and lights starting to flicker on across downtown, and none of it feels like mine.

I hear him before I feel him.

Footsteps.

Then something about the air shifting that tells me Everett Kauffman is standing close enough to register.

"You're sure about this?" he asks.

I turn to face him. He's closer than I realized, and my pulse kicks. Wild and stupid and reckless. For one second, I want to reach out and touch him.

I don't.

"I'm sure," I say.

His eyes drop to my mouth.

Then to the ring on my finger.

It only takes a second, but it feels much longer.

Then he steps back, both hands sliding into his pockets. Distance restored.