forever was the dream. The problem she had was that her groom didn’t love her, and this marriage wasn’t about forever.
But damn, he was so good-looking, it hurt. Meg turned in her seat and allowed herself to admire the man she’d married. As they zipped down the main road through the villages of Cutchogue and Southold, he kept the music turned low and his eyes on the road. His profile was exquisite. His high cheekbones and deep-set eyes gave his face depth and character, and the short dark hair was always a little mussed, making her want to reach out and touch him. Of course, he caught her looking and the grin he gave her went right to his blue eyes, crinkling the corners and melting her heart.
Meg smoothed the front of her dress and looked away because she was afraid he’d see what she was feeling, that there was an attraction that went beyond the physical. He was her heart, he always had been. Ever since she’d realized the difference between boys and girls, Meg knew Jason was for her. She’d dreamed of the day she’d wear a beautiful white dress and he would dress in a gorgeous suit and they’d stand before the world and declare their love for each other.
They’d done that today.
And it was a lie.
“Have you been to Greenport?” Jason’s deep voice shook her from her thoughts, and she continued to fiddle with her dress.
“I’ve never stayed, but I’ve explored the village a little. Where are we staying? That pretty inn on Front Street?”
“No, we’re going to my boat. It’s docked at the wharf.”
“Boat?” Meg felt her pulse pick up. “I don’t like boats. You said we were going to Greenport.”
“We are going to Greenport.”
“But a boat?”
“You’ll like my boat,” he said, his smile warm and sweet. Damn. The heat curled up in Meg’s belly, coupled with an ache that became so acute, it surprised even her. This was desire that went far past anything she’d ever felt, and he hadn’t even touched her. It was simply the promise of a touch, a kiss, a gentle whisper, that made her body respond.
“Jason, really. I mean, why are we even doing this? It’s not like it’s a real marriage; why are we going on a honeymoon?” They turned right, off Front Street, and he pulled the car up by one of the docks. “And I don’t do well on boats. I mean, I’ve been on cruise ships, but those are different—”
“We’re here.” He leaned on the steering wheel and looked out the windshield. When Meg did the same, she came face-to-face with Jason’s “boat.”
Oh. My. God. It was a yacht, at least a hundred feet long, with multiple decks, and it was beautiful.
“Think you can manage on this?”
“Ummm . . . I think so.” Meg reached out and backhanded his upper arm. “Boat. This is not a boat. A boat is what you use for fishing or waterskiing. This has more square footage than my house.”
He laughed and got out of the car. While Meg gathered her skirts, she saw Jason scoot around the hood and then gallantly open her door. His hand reached for hers, and Meg, who was still holding on to a boatload of doubt, let it go to live the fairy tale. It was a beautiful fall night, she was wearing an exquisite dress, and her prince was taking her hand. Oh, sure, he was a bit of a nerdy prince, with his glasses and giant brain, but he was hers. For now.
Once the car door closed and she could see without obstruction, she looked the yacht over fully. Named My Girl, it was the epitome of wealth. Just like his car, his custom-made suit, and her gown, which cost the same as a down payment on a small house. They were all signs of how Jason lived his life. It should have felt more extravagant than it did, but the reality was, other than his most obvious luxuries, Jason led a pretty simple life. When he was working, his favorite snack was peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He never bought coffee out anywhere because he had perfectly good coffeemakers. He might buy custom suits and shirts, but his favorite thing to wear were his Levi’s. Meg looked down at her left hand and admired the rings he had given to her. There were tens of thousands of dollars on her finger, but he used coupons when they went to the home