And then she shut the door to her room and went straight for the shower, because she was a woman who needed to cover her body in ice water to get a mansplainer out of her head before she did something even more foolish than marrying him.

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Nash

This was not how Nash had imagined he’d be spending his wedding night—not that he’d ever spent much time thinking about it. However, he’d always believed that if the worst had happened and he’d actually gotten married, then he’d spend the night having sex with his wife.

Instead, here he was moving furniture to put everything—well, almost everything—back in the bad arrangement it had been in before he started. Except this time, he had a raging hard-on and absolutely no hope of finding relief for it with his bride. It was bad enough before she’d come out of her room. But one look at her in those shouldn’t-have-been-sexy-as-hell pajamas with her hair all messed up like she’d just been rolling around in the bed had made it so much worse.

Fuck.

Maybe he’d been wrong about the brilliance of his plan to get married to win the bet.

Or maybe you just need to get your wife out of your system.

He stopped mid-shove as he moved the bookcases back into position, processing what the voice in the back of his head had whispered. No, there was no way that wouldn’t complicate things. His life had enough complications already. He had his parents to keep on the straight and narrow, his siblings to advise, deals to make to grow Beckett Cosmetics, and the Last Man Standing bet to finish, with Grandma’s present to unwrap when he won. There was a reason why he didn’t even have a goldfish at his house.

He rubbed his palm against the back of his neck, shook the stupid idea out of his head, and pushed the bookcase back to the very wrong spot for this space.

Still, he kept picturing the way Chelle had looked at him when she’d first walked out of her bedroom. There was surprise, which was expected considering it was after midnight. Then there had been appraisal, and then there’d been lust. She’d shut it down pretty quickly, but not before he’d caught it.

Chelle was interested.

And he was more than interested in her.

Really, what could go wrong with a limited-time agreement for mutual orgasms?

He picked up the ottoman and carried it over to its spot to the side of the archway as Sir Hiss supervised his progress from on top of the fireplace mantle.