Free Shopping for a CEO's Fiancee by Julia Kent Page A

marriage licenses?”
    She grabs them back. “If I rush, I can get there in time for—”
    Amanda yanks them out of her hands and flings them into the hot spring.
    “You’re our hero, Marie!” she shouts, pulling Marie into a tight hug.
    I blink over and over, staring at the papers on the water as the saltwater soaks in, turning them to wet, sopping messes.
    Which one is ours?
    Not that it matters.
    I wade in, mop up the useless pieces of paper, and wade back out, marching to a trash can and throwing them in. Staring at the clump of paper, I sigh.
    We’re not married.
    I’m not married to anyone.
    Great.
    My eyes land on an animated Amanda, who smiles and frowns in alternating patterns as Marie chatters away. My right index finger finds my left hand, the metal of my wedding band warm from the room’s ambient temperature. The ring is smooth and unyielding, an infinite loop.
    Amanda hugs Marie again, who looks at me with a shaky smile.
    “I didn’t mess up? You didn’t want me to file the marriage licenses?”
    “Did you really think Amanda wanted to marry Chuckles?”
    “No. But I’m getting the feeling you really wanted to marry her, Andrew.”
    Laughter rips through the room as Amanda reacts.
    I just run my finger around the ring, over and over, silent.
     

Chapter Seven
    “So no one’s married to anyone?” Josh asks, his voice peaking on a high note, turning to give Geordi a pouty look. Geordi seems to have fewer facial muscles than the rest of us, because he just broods.
    “Nope,” Amanda says with a grin, taking a sip of her mango cucumber kale monstrosity that someone in the casino made for her. We’re sitting on purple velvet couches in a sunken pit near the High Value baccarat room where Jason won all that money yesterday.
    And gave it right back to my casino.
    I like Jason. Men who give back that kind of money after winning are guaranteed a comped room for the rest of their lives.
    After interrupting us back at the spa, Marie needed concierge service to shoo her and her crew out of the state, which meant Brona intervened and sent a message to my admin, Gina.
    Who urged me to answer the three hundred texts queued up in my phone.
    Instead of having luscious sex with my once-maybe-wife in a rainforest hot spring, I’ve spent the last ninety minutes perusing spreadsheets, giving one-sentence up-or-down decisions, and listening to a very pissed off Sultan rant in my ear.
    While drinking substandard coffee.
    Damn Declan. He’s right—Grind It Fresh! coffee is better.
    “We’re free! No one married anyone! Then we don’t need these!” Josh slides his wedding ring off his finger. Geordi does the same. Amanda tries to pull hers off and can’t.
    “Ugh! I’m too swollen and bloated!” she complains. “Must be from all the drinking and the Cheetos last night.”
    My heart soars. I slide my left hand around her and give her shoulder a squeeze. Good for bloat. I can’t stop my gaze from jumping between our respective rings.
    “We need to let Dec and Shannon and James know that no one’s married to anyone,” she says, snuggling in. Ten more minutes of conversation and we can excuse ourselves and go back to my suite.
    Even if we’re not married, we can pretend it’s our honeymoon.
    “Hi!” Pam appears behind Amanda, holding her teacup Chihuahua in her handbag.
    These mothers have impeccably bad timing.
    Spritzy pokes his head up and sticks his tongue out, panting. If dogs could smile, he’d be grinning.
    “Mom! Where have you been?”
    Pam takes a few steps toward Amanda and winces.
    “Flare,” she says simply.
    Geordi looks at some pins on his leather shirt. “Are not!”
    “Not ‘flair,’ Geordi,” Josh says with a laugh.
    Amanda peels out of my arms and gives Pam a gentle hug. “I’m so sorry.”
    “I hear you married three men while I was resting.”
    “And a cat,” Josh adds helpfully.
    “Everyone needs a little pussy for a companion sometimes,” Pam says unironically.