Then he would grow to resent her, and their whole marriage could be poisoned by it. She’d seen up close what the slow poisoning of a marriage could do. And even though she’d made some peace with her mother, she didn’t want to repeat her parents’ mistakes.
Plus, there was the issue of his mother thinking that she was a straight-up gold digger. She didn’t think he would believe his mother over her, but his experience with Naomi might have made him more susceptible to the suggestion. Bridget would just rather tell him herself.
But the point was that he loved her, and that carried her through the doors of the fancy salon where Hannah and her other bridesmaids were getting their hair done.
“You look a hell of a lot happier this morning,” Hannah said, before downing a mimosa.
Not eager to carry the bride down the aisle, Bridget said, “Are you sure you should be drinking at eight in the morning?”
Sasha piped up then. “That was number one. She needs to have at least one an hour until the ceremony. I have it properly timed out with pastries and cheese so that she won’t be too drunk.”
“She’s a very good friend.” Hannah pointed at the chair next to her. “Sit down.” She looked adorable and happy in hot rollers with a scrubbed-clean face, wearing a fluffy robe in a salon like she was in her living room. “Is it super selfish if I say that I’m really glad you’re not puffy-snot-crying on my wedding day?”
“Not at all. I mean, I don’t remember how I felt when I decided to get married, much less right before. But I think it’s completely reasonable to want this day to be completely about you.”
“I’m really glad you’re going to be my sister-in-law.” Hannah looked entirely sincere, which was different from how she usually was—cracking wise at everything. Bridget enjoyed her both ways but knew that she needed to listen to what she had to say now. “Even if Jack decides that I’m too much of a pain in the ass to tolerate, you’re never going to get rid of me.”
Bridget’s eyes welled up with tears, and she grabbed Hannah’s hand. “Well, for one thing, that’s never going to happen. My brother loves you more than he loved Power Rangers when he was a kid. And that’s saying something.” Hannah’s lower lip trembled. “For another, I already think of you like my sister.”
Sasha was wiping carefully under her smudged eye makeup. “You guys have to stop this. I can only get all smudged up during the ceremony.”
Hannah looked at her friend. “You might want to use waterproof. Perish the thought you got all smudged up in front of Father Patrick,” she said in a teasing tone.
Bridget was confused. “Patrick Dooley?”
“Yeah, Sasha has a little crush on him. She read this book about a kinky priest—”
“Shut up, Hannah. I will withhold mimosas for the rest of the day, and you will have to walk down the aisle and pledge the rest of your life to another fallible human completely sober,” Sasha said.
“You wouldn’t do that to me, and it’s harmless,” Hannah said. “I need more cheese.”
Bridget was still a little gobsmacked. “Patrick Dooley. Really?”
“You’ve never noticed that he’s a smoke show?” Hannah said it like she was calling the sky blue.
“But he took a vow of celibacy.” Bridget didn’t add the part about how he was like her brother, because he wasn’t like Sasha’s brother. And, hell, if she was into priests, she might be into brothers.
Sasha had apparently decided to give up on not talking about this, because she said, “That just makes it hotter.” She shook her head. “I never should have read that book by Sierra Simone.”
Bridget thought she might get her hands on that book and a priest costume for Matt.
She must have had a dreamy look on her face because Hannah said, “What happened with Matt?”
“He loves me.”
Both Sasha and Hannah stood up and did a little dance. “We knew it.”
“How the hell did you know anything?” Bridget didn’t understand how Hannah—a former deep skeptic on the topics of love and romance—could possibly suss out that Matt was in love with her. She’d spent no more than twenty-four hours with the guy.
“I knew it when he got up and did the dishes after dinner.”
“He’s just polite.” Bridget didn’t know why she was arguing, but she was a little embarrassed that she hadn’t figured this out for herself. Sort of like she’d been embarrassed when Chris had told her he wasn’t in love with her.
“Nah, a polite guy opens a door for you.” Hannah pointed at the man opening a door for another patron. “A guy who is in love with you wants to make sure he’s invited back into your home, so he pitches in. Matt did not grow up cleaning up after himself. It’s not automatic for him. It’s intentional.”
“Whatever.” Bridget’s stylist came over to get her shampooed. She might have been trying to sound nonchalant, but the idea that Matt loved her in a way that was plain for everyone to see kept the smile on her face the whole time.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
MATT WASN’T EXPECTING HIS mother to show up at his house with Naomi in tow. Even though he knew that Bridget was getting glamorous with her future sister-in-law, he’d hoped it was her. For longer than he wanted to admit to himself, he’d been hoping she walked through every open door the same way she’d walked into his heart.
Damn, but he was turning into a sap.
When he realized that it wasn’t his wife coming back for a pre-wedding quickie, he buttoned up his shirt. “What are you two doing here? Together?”
“You should still be in bed.” His mother put her bag on his island and walked over to him. Without him asking, she started tying his bow tie. He didn’t slap her hands away, even though he wanted to. That wouldn’t help him find out why she was here, placate her, and convince her to leave any more efficiently.
“What are you doing here with my ex-girlfriend?” Naomi pouted when she heard that but turned around and started rifling through his fridge as though she still belonged there. He’d never been more tempted to drop a dime on how she’d cheated on him.
“We have some important information to share with you about your current wife.”
“Couldn’t you have sent an e-mail?” His mother pursed her lips at his joke. “Seriously, I have to get to the church. For my brother-in-law’s wedding.”
“I’ll make this quick, then.” Naomi poured herself a glass of his orange juice. “She’s after you for your money.”
Matt moved over to the kitchen island and met Naomi’s gaze. They had a silent standoff for a few beats before she looked away. She really thought that he wasn’t going to blow up the quasi-familial relationship between their parents, didn’t she?
Before he could open his mouth to tell his mother about Naomi’s scheming and lying, his mother piped up. “Did you know that Bridget only took you on as an intern because she wanted the fellowship?”
“Yes. And it had nothing to do with what happened between us after I stopped being her intern.”
“Are you sure?” His mother had always asked him that before he made a choice that she didn’t one hundred percent agree with. And it always—always—made him doubt himself. Including now.
Seeing Naomi, the woman who really had only been with him because of what he could do for her, somehow gave him a sliver of doubt that wedged its way under his skin. Just a stray shard of glass from everything she’d broken—mostly his ability to trust that someone wanted him for himself and not his family’s money.
It was small, but the idea that Bridget was playing some sort of long game made its way through his mind because Naomi was standing right there.
He wasn’t going to give her the benefit of seeing that she’d gotten in his head, though.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Just because she had student loans and had applied for the fellowship, it didn’
t mean that anything that happened after had to do with his money. Hell, she’d made fun of the private plane and the penthouse. He should be giving her the benefit of the doubt.
“Well, when she heard that she wasn’t going to get the fellowship, she married you.” Naomi had a smile on her face as she accused Bridget of being what Naomi was. He was so angry that he turned his back on her. It would be better to pretend she wasn’t here and was just effective as yelling at her.
“This is a waste of time.” His mother hated wasting time more than anything. “We’re married now, and I’ll pay off her student loans tomorrow. In fact, I can afford it now that I can access my trust fund. She’ll probably try to pay me back for the next ten years.”
“Are you sure? When I had lunch with her this week, she didn’t turn down the fellowship when I offered it to her. And she took the final divorce decree with her.”
“Divorce decree?” Bridget hadn’t mentioned the lunch, the fellowship, or any divorce decree last night when they’d declared their love. And even though this whole thing smelled like a last-ditch effort for Naomi not to lose her golden ticket out of having the last name Kido, Bridget’s not telling him about any of this made that glass sliver of doubt a little bit bigger.
“Are you sure that you were both drunk the night you got married?” That question came from Naomi, and it was easy to brush off. The morning after they’d gotten married, Bridget had seemed mortified and hungover. It hadn’t been premeditated.
But after? When they’d consummated their marriage—precluding an annulment? Maybe at some point that day, she’d decided that she’d work the situation to her advantage. Using him to needle Chris was sort of a thin excuse. And, even though her ex had been an underhanded dick bringing up her abortion in front of her family, Bridget had handled him deftly.
So, a little bit of what his mom said landed in a suspicious place in his heart that had been previously reserved for Naomi. Even though it was too convenient that Naomi was pushing this theory with Bridget. She was probably projecting. And, regardless of whether his mom’s theory of the case on Bridget was correct, he needed to put a stop to the Naomi thing once and for all. “Did Naomi tell you why we broke up, Mom?”
Naomi made a weird squeaking noise. His mom raised one brow in the way that always told him as a teenager that he was borrowing trouble. “No, she didn’t. And I don’t see why that matters at the moment.”
“She cheated on me, in my fucking bed.”
“That wasn’t—” Matt held up a hand so Naomi wouldn’t go in with her excuses.
“I wasn’t going to say anything since the Chapins are old family friends and all. But she wouldn’t leave things alone.”
“Is this true?” This question was directed at Naomi.
“Um. It wasn’t what it looked like.”
Jane Kido put on her don’t-fuck-with-my-family face then. It was everything he’d been trying to avoid since the beginning of the summer, but it was almost a relief at this point. And it took the heat off him and Bridget so that he could figure out that—much more important—situation on his own.
“Yeah, she fucked one of the guys who used to make fun of me at boarding school.” He left out the part where she’d besmirched his reputation as a considerate lover because he didn’t need his mom knowing about that.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” his mom asked. “I wouldn’t have had her in my house.”
“That’s exactly why.” Matt motioned at Naomi. “I don’t need you fixing my problems. I had it handled.”
“Is that why you didn’t take the perfectly good summer job you had?” She wasn’t going to let him off easily. But, fortunately, she wasn’t going to let Naomi off easily, either. “I thought your parents raised you better, Naomi. I think you should leave.”
“But—” Naomi started to talk, but a look from his mother cut her off. She left her half-finished orange juice and walked out in a huff.
His mother turned her attention on him. “So, you threw away a whole summer and married a virtual stranger so that you wouldn’t have to tell me and your father about Naomi?”
“Pretty much.” There was no use in denying it now. This summer had really taught him a lesson about being direct and trying to solve his problems. If he’d broken up with Naomi when he’d realized they weren’t in love enough to sustain a long-term relationship, maybe she wouldn’t have cheated and they could be amicable exes.
But then he might never have met Bridget. He wouldn’t have married her, then fallen in love with her. Or maybe it was the other way around? He didn’t know precisely the moment when he realized that he couldn’t stand the thought of her being temporary in his life.
The idea that maybe she didn’t feel the same way lingered, even though it felt like it couldn’t be true. He’d thought they’d laid everything out on the table the night before. Her not telling him about the fellowship or the lunch with his mom didn’t sit well.
He needed to ask her directly. He also needed to get more information out of his mom, but he doubted the utility of that. She’d made her decision about Bridget, and she would twist the facts to fit that vision—especially if she thought it would protect him.
And he didn’t have time to go any more rounds with his mother. He needed to leave about five minutes ago if he wanted to make it to the church on time. Although it wasn’t his wedding, it felt like it was. It was the first time he would be in public with his wife with them both knowing it was a real marriage and not just a way to get back at their exes.
Despite any tiny doubts he had about Bridget’s motivations, he needed to be there for her when he said he would be. Even if she wasn’t in love with him in the way he was in love with her, he wasn’t going to be the bad guy by not keeping his promises.
“I have to go, Mom.” He tried to ignore her downturned mouth and the wary look in her eye. They could straighten everything out later. “I’m going to be late. Lock up behind yourself.”
He’d grabbed his keys off the entry table when his mom called out, “I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”
He turned around and held his palms open. “Even if she is out to hurt me, that’s my problem.”
“You’ve always been too naïve.” His mother said that like it was the worst character failing she could imagine—wanting to believe that people were good.
“It’s not like you weren’t taken in by Naomi.” His mother rolled her eyes. “And she was a known quantity. You were blinded by the fact that the Chapins have always been in our lives. You’ve always wanted me to play things safe, when I can afford to take more risks than anyone.”
“But you have a legacy to protect—”
He cut her off before she could continue with the legacy speech. “I love her, Mom. And maybe that’s foolish and naïve. But it’s the truth. And, maybe for the first time in my life, I’m willing to risk it all for someone.”
Even if Bridget wasn’t really in love with him, he needed to stand up for himself in front of his mother if he ever wanted any peace. And even if this was mistake, maybe taking a stand now would let his mother know that he could clean up his own messes and protect himself for once.
“I just want to protect you.”
“I know,” he said. And he believed her. “But you can’t protect me from being in love with her. It’s too late.”
His mother took a moment to compose herself, and it was like a ripple drifting over a pond. In that moment, he knew that she’d accepted his marriage as much as she ever would. Before she left, she took a manila envelope out of her bag and put it on the island. “In case you change your mind.”
Thinking that it might contain some sort of documentation that Bridget was after the family coffers—or at least something that would help him make sense of all this—he grabbed it off the counter to read in the car.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
> JACK WAS TOTALLY CALM when Bridget went to check on him. Not that she expected him to have a sudden-onset case of cold feet. No, her brother was so in love with Hannah that it shone out through every word he spoke.
She was, however, surprised to find her other brother, Michael, in equally good spirits given his pending divorce. For months, he’d been sulking in a corner at family events. She’d barely seen him at the fateful bachelor/bachelorette weekend. He’d been like a ghost.
But when she walked into the musty room where grooms got to stew in the significance of their decisions and make sure their bow ties were straight, she walked in on a distinctly bro-y hug.
And she might have been mistaken, but she thought she saw Michael wiping under his eyes.
She’d seen her oldest brother cry maybe three times—when he broke his leg skateboarding at fourteen, when his daughter was born, and now. Jack and her dad were the emotional ones.
“Do you want me to come back later?” If they were having a moment, she didn’t want to interrupt.
But Jack motioned for her to come in. “Nah, he was only telling me he was proud of me.”
“That was private,” Michael said in a familiar grunting cadence. “I don’t want to get a reputation for being soft.”
“Nothing wrong with being soft, bro.” Jack gave him another pat on the back. “I mean—emotionally.”
Not expecting a sex joke, Bridget covered her mouth to stifle a laugh that would probably reach the sanctuary.
“Shut the fuck up, Jack-hole.” There was the familiar brother-to-brother dynamic she had been expecting. If one of them knocked the other to the floor, maybe equilibrium would be restored.
“I came to check to see if you guys needed anything before the ceremony.” Once she’d arrived at the church with Hannah, her mom, and the other bridesmaids in tow, things had been hectic. She wasn’t going to tell Jack that Hannah had told her to make sure that Jack hadn’t cut and run while he still could. She didn’t think her new sister-in-law would appreciate being ratted out.
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