Confetti Hearts (Confetti Hitched, #1)(84)

“What?”

He shrugs. “Why not?” He’s talking fast suddenly. “We get on well and we’re still married. Why don’t we date?”

“Date?”

“Is it possible that you could stop repeating the last word of my sentence and contribute to the discussion?”

“I don’t know,” I reply honestly.

My head is suddenly whirling, and I jump out of bed pulling the sheets off him as I go and start to pace. “You actually want to date?” My heart is beating fast, and I can feel tentative joy unfolding in me, but underneath is still that undercurrent of fear.

He watches me, seeming unconcerned in his nudity, but who could blame him. He’s beautiful. “Yes, why not?”

“Maybe because you seemed to be allergic to the very word last time.”

“Well, I’m not now.” He rubs his chin looking suddenly nervous. “But before we go any further, I have to tell you something, Joe.”

I still. “What?” I whisper. He scrubs his hand through his hair looking unsure and almost scared. “Lachlan?”

What is so bad that he looks this nervous?

“I’m not actually a wedding guest.”

“Pardon?

“I set this whole thing up with Rafferty and Erica.”

The words come out in a huge rush, and they’re so far from what I was thinking that I stare at him. “What?”

“You thought that I fooled Erica into thinking we were still together, but she knew all along that we were separated.”

I have the feeling of stepping off a ledge and into thin air. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He flinches. “I went to see Rafferty a month ago and he introduced me to her. I told her that we were separated and that I wanted one last chance to talk to you. She heard me out and agreed to have me at the wedding so I could see you.”

My head is spinning, and I can hardly hear him over the pounding of my blood. “Rafferty and Erica knew all along and they never told me?” I whisper.

He holds out his hand imploringly. “Please don’t be mad at them. Rafferty took a hell of a lot of convincing before he’d help me. They both did it for the purest of reasons because they wanted you to be happy.”

“So, you’ve all been plotting behind my back.”

“I tried to tell you at the start.” I have a flash of memory of him trying to say something when I saw him here for the first time, and me cutting him off. “Please don’t be hurt,” he jerks out. “I just had to see you again. I couldn’t—”

He falters. “Couldn’t what, Lachlan?”

“I couldn’t let go without one last chance to get you back.” The words are simple but utterly resolute and he stares at me like a soldier facing the firing squad—calm now and waiting.

My joy at the thought of reconciliation is long gone now and his calmness is enraging me. “You’ve made a fucking fool of me,” I say hoarsely. I spin around in my agitation and knock into the dresser. A box of confetti drops and explodes open, sending tiny red and white hearts eddying around us.

“Shit.” I run my hands through my hair, watching the hearts float to the floor. “We’re like this confetti,” I say, the thought striking me with its honesty.

“What do you mean?”

It’s hard to meet his eyes. “It’s always kisses and hearts between us at other people’s weddings, but our own marriage is counterfeit, Lachlan. It’s lies on paper, and it’ll be gone as soon as a fierce wind blows through.”

“Joe,” he says, leaping out of the bed and coming towards me.

I step back, and he hovers, looking suddenly unsure. “I need to get out of here,” I say, my muddy thoughts suddenly coalescing into one singular desire. “I can’t think straight.” I grab my jeans, forcing my legs into them, and pull a jumper on. Kicking my feet into my trainers, I look at him. “I need to be on my own,” I say. I mean to add that I want to think away from his distracting presence and that I’ll be back, but I falter, the words dying away.

His eyes shutter, the earlier hope long gone, and it hurts me inside. “Of course,” he says politely and walks into the bathroom and shuts the door.

I stare irresolute at the closed door and then whirl out of the room. I pound down the stairs, unsure where I’m going. My coat is on a chair in the foyer, and I grab it and let myself out of the hotel.

It’s still cold, but the sun is bright, making everything shine as brightly as Earl’s Elvis suit. At the thought, I feel tears in the back of my eyes.

“Joe.”

I spin around, rubbing my eyes, and find Erica standing there. “Shit. You startled me.”

“You okay?” she asks, concern in her eyes. “Where’s your inhaler?”

“It’s in my pocket, but I’m fine. What are you doing out here?”

“Just going for a walk.”

“Where’s Ryan?”

“He popped in to get some tea and then we’re walking over the gardens. There’s a lovely view of the loch.”

“That’s nice.”

She smiles at me. She looks happy and contented and I feel a stir of horrible jealousy. “We had a message saying the snowploughs will be through and clearing the lane soon, so we should be out of here tomorrow. The manager’s up and about, so you and Lachlan are off cooking and cleaning duties.”