Thirty Days to Win His Wife. Andrea Laurence

Thirty Days to Win His Wife - Andrea Laurence


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      “No, let’s just...” She eyed her office, and her gaze strayed to the open doors of the wedding chapel just beyond it.

      The white-and-gray chapel was so elegant. Beautifully detailed, yet understated enough not to upstage the bride or her chosen decor. Since the day construction was completed, Amelia had envisioned herself getting married in that same chapel wearing a strapless ivory Pnina Tornai gown. She could easily picture sprays of white and pink roses filling the room with their delicate fragrance. The rows of friends and family crying happy tears.

      That was the way her big day was supposed to be. Not at 1:00 a.m. in the Li’l Chapel of Love with the pink bismuth–colored upholstery and dusty silk flower arrangements. She’d been wearing a black cocktail dress, for chrissake. Married in black! No old, no new, no borrowed, no blue. It was blasphemous. And obviously very bad luck. The whole thing made her want to curl into a ball and cry the tears of a five-year-old who’d had her dreams destroyed.

      Her office was a convenient place to talk, but the sudden urge to get as far away from the chapel as possible nearly overwhelmed her. “Just get me out of here,” she said.

      “You got it.”

      She moved quickly, slipping into the coat she’d hung nearby. She should tell the others she was leaving, but she didn’t dare stick her head back in the conference room. She’d text Gretchen once they were on the road and let them know she’d be back later.

      They walked out of From This Moment together, Tyler holding the door for her like he always did. He led her through the parking lot to a black BMW parked out front.

      “Nice rental,” she said. Whenever she flew somewhere, she usually ended up with some tiny compact car, not a luxury car. That was the difference between her and Tyler, with his jet-set lifestyle and wealthy business associates.

      “It’s okay,” he said, opening the door to the passenger side. “I wanted an Audi, but they didn’t have any available.”

      “Aw, you poor thing,” she muttered as she climbed inside. Such a hardship. The leather interior was soft, and the car smelled brand-new. Fresh from the factory. She hadn’t experienced that in a long time. She was still driving the little crossover she’d saved up for after graduation. It was ideal for hauling catering supplies, but it was more practical than posh.

      It must be nice to have money. She’d never really had a lot. Her father was a math teacher turned high school principal and the sole breadwinner in the family. He did okay, but she’d never considered her family to be more than middle class. As an adult, every penny of her own had gone into making From This Moment a success. Tyler had had even less when they were kids. He was one of six kids in a family that could barely feed two despite his parents’ best efforts.

      Driving a brand-new BMW around had been a pipe dream when they were kids. Tyler had done well for himself over the years. No one was prouder than she was of everything he’d accomplished. If he could get his eyes off his smartphone and stay in the country for more than a day at a time, he would make some woman a great husband one day. She just couldn’t fathom that person being her.

      “Where are we headed?” he asked.

      “There’s a coffee shop a few blocks up, if that’s okay.”

      “Sure.” Tyler started the car, pulled out of the parking lot and headed in the direction she’d pointed. A nearby commercial district had restaurants and coffee shops where they could sit down and talk. Considering the state of her stomach, she would pass on the food, but she could get some hot tea. And maybe, if that went okay, a scone.

      They didn’t speak in the car on the way there, which was odd for them. They always had a million things to catch up on. They could talk for hours about anything and everything. Now, as she feared, there was tension between them. Sex changed things, as she’d known it would. She’d never wanted their relationship to cross that line for that very reason.

      She sighed and looked out the window instead. There would be plenty of things to say, but she could tell neither of them was ready to say them. He’d just found out he was going to be a father. That needed time to sink in. Tyler had never mentioned having an interest in a family—at least, not since he’d broken up with Christine. After that, he’d focused 100 percent on business. This had to be an unexpected blow for him. Amelia had always known she wanted children, but it had still been a shock for her.

      Eventually, they arrived at the small independent coffee shop. He opened her door, helped her out and then followed her inside. Tyler bought them both drinks and got himself a giant cinnamon roll while Amelia found a plush couch in the corner away from the others in the shop.

      Tyler came over a few minutes later with their things on a tray. He put the drinks on the coffee table and sat beside her. His knee barely grazed hers as he did, but even that simple touch was enough to awaken her nervous system. It was the first time they’d touched since that night. Being in such close proximity to him again was confusing. Her body remembered his touch, aching to lean closer to him and feel his hands on her again. Her brain knew it was a bad idea, but she didn’t want to act childish. It was a simple touch, an innocent one. Just because her libido lit up like the skies on the Fourth of July didn’t mean it meant anything.

      Amelia busied herself preparing her tea and distracting herself from Tyler’s nearness. She added a pack of raw sugar and stirred it, waiting for him to say something. She’d already said enough. Now it was his turn.

      “So,” he began, after a few bites of cinnamon roll and a sip of his coffee, “do you want to tell your parents first, or mine?”

      She tried not to choke on her tea. That was not where she’d expected him to go with this. “Tell them what, exactly?”

      “That we’ve gotten married and we’re expecting a baby.”

      She shook her head furiously. He must still be in shock. “Neither.”

      Tyler frowned at her. “We have to tell them eventually. We can’t just show up at their house with an infant and say, ‘Here’s your grandchild.’”

      “I know that,” she argued. “We will have to tell them about the baby eventually. I meant about the wedding. I don’t see why anyone needs to know about it if we’re just going to file for divorce anyway. I’d rather my father not know what we did, to be honest. You know how he is. The only reason he let me go to college in Tennessee was because my grandparents live here. He’s just waiting for me to get into some kind of trouble so he can point out he was right.”

      Tyler nodded thoughtfully. “I understand your concerns. I wasn’t planning on telling my family about the wedding, either. I mean, I came to Nashville so we could get the ball rolling on the divorce. But...everything is different now.”

      She flinched. “How? How is everything different now?”

      “We’re going to have a baby together,” he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I know we’ve got to work out the logistics, but starting a family is a complicated thing.”

      “A f-family?” she stuttered, a feeling of dread pooling in her stomach.

      “Well, yeah. I mean, obviously, since you’re pregnant with my child, the divorce is off the table.”

      * * *

      Amelia’s face flushed as red as her hair, and Tyler knew immediately that he’d said the wrong thing. Or at least, he’d said it in the wrong way. He knew he was right about what they needed to do. Convincing her would take more finessing than just blurting it out the way he had. Amelia didn’t take well to being told what to do. Good job, Dixon.

      “Divorce is off the table,” she mimicked with a bitter tone. “You act as though you’re the only one with any say in the matter. I know you’re Mr. Big Shot and you’re used to your word being law, but you aren’t the boss of me, Tyler. You can’t bully me into staying married to you.”

      “Of course I’m not the


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