“You’re right. I can definitely see her doing that.” Gavin turns around and then looks over his shoulder. “Call me if you need anything, Spencer.”

With that, he takes off, and it’s just us in the honeymoon suite.

Lukas flops onto the edge of the bed, and I’m a second too late in screaming, “No.”

He has already pulled open the drawer of his nightstand.

“What the fuck is this? You running an inn or a sex shop?” He almost looks horrified, and I want to die of mortification. “Please don’t tell me that your grandma put these here,” he says, holding up a strip of condoms.

“She herself didn’t…but she might have asked someone to. This”—I wave around—“is our deluxe honeymoon setup. You shouldn’t open the bottom drawer.”

My face is hot. Actually, not just my face but everything feels hot and sweaty.

Lukas is sitting on the white comforter with flowers all around and a strip of condoms in his hand. It’s an effing hot sight.

On top of it, my brain has no problem constantly reminding me that just a few inches away from his feet is the fun packet we prepare for our more…adventurous couples.

“What does she want me to do? Doesn’t she see my broken arm?” He isn’t over the shock. “Your family is crazy, you know that?” He finally leans back and rests against the covers.

“You’re right.” I walk closer and perch down on the opposite end of the bed. “How’re you feeling?”

He groans. “I’m exhausted.”

“I’m sorry my family isn’t helping.”

He turns to face me, and my breath hitches. His short hair is a bit disheveled. His exhausted eyes appear dreamy, as if he wants to just stay here. The contrast of his olive skin against the white pillows is breathtaking.

“Autumn,” he calls and I shake out of my daydream.

“Sorry. I was just admiring the pillow,” I blurt, proud of myself for thinking of a perfect reply.

Lukas looks between the pillow and me. His eyebrows furrow, but then he shakes his head. “I was saying…” He sits up, his face no longer calm.

“What is it?”

“As happy as I am about it, I don’t think your grandpop is going anywhere.”

“I think that’s true.” I bite my bottom lip, feeling an uprising of nerves in my stomach. “Can I tell you something?”

He nods.

“The day we got married… I prayed he wouldn’t die.”

“I wouldn’t have expected anything else from you.” He smiles, but his lips flatten as fast as they curled up. “We really need to get out of this mess.” He motions toward the swans, the champagne, and the flowers. “Because with the speed your grandma is pushing us together—”

He stops mid-sentence, causing my heart to flutter. What was he saying? And why did he stop?