Holiday Hoax: A Fake Marriage Billionaire Romance (The Cartwright Family Book 1)
Holiday Hoax: Chapter 22

Georgia freezes. She hesitates, then says, ‘A honeymoon?’

The hairs on my neck rise. I question, ‘That’s what married people do, right?’

She swallows hard and turns toward the window.

I pull her chin back in front of me. ‘What’s wrong? You don’t want to go away?’

She opens her mouth, then shuts it. She takes a few deep breaths, then swallows hard.

The bad feeling in the pit of my stomach grows. I quietly ask, ‘Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?’

She furrows her eyebrows, cautiously inquiring, ‘I thought you had to stay at your parents’ until the New Year?’

‘My parents were fine letting me leave for a week. It’s a special occasion,’ I say.

She leers at me.

Dread fills me as I inquire, ‘Why do I get the feeling that isn’t your concern?’

She stays quiet, but it’s written all over her face that I’m right. The longer the silence continues, the more disturbed she looks.

‘Why don’t you tell me what this is really about?’ I suggest.

She finally quizzes, ‘Why did you change your vows?’

My heart pounds harder. I debate about how to answer her, then finally choose the truth. ‘I don’t know. It just came out when I opened my mouth.’

She tilts her head. Her eyes turn to blue slits.

‘Are you mad at me?’ I ask.

‘You just opened your mouth, and it came out?’

‘Yes.’

‘You expect me to believe that you, Sebastian Cartwright, Mr. Prepared For Everything, didn’t rehearse that?’ she accuses.

‘I didn’t,’ I claim.

‘So it wasn’t part of the show?’

Confused, I question, ‘The show?’

She huffs. ‘Yeah, Sebastian. The show. You know, the one that you wanted? The big event to fool your family and the entire town?’

All the guilt and frustration I’ve felt over the last few days slaps me in the face. The closer we got to today, the more I regretted having Georgia sign the prenup. I wish I could have a redo, but there are no do-overs in life. I’m fully aware of that reality. And now we’re in this situation. I don’t even know where I’m at with her or how to morph this from something contractual to what I want.

Hell, I’m not even sure what it is I want.

‘At least answer me,’ she demands, her cheeks heating with anger.

I quietly confess, ‘It wasn’t for show.’

Her bottom lip trembles. ‘Then tell me what it was about. I deserve an answer.’

Tension grows between us. The limo rolls to a stop, and I glance out the window at my private jet. I mutter, ‘We’re here.’

The driver gets out of the car and shuts his door.

Georgia states, ‘I want an answer, Sebastian. If you didn’t change your vows for a show, then why did you say those things to me?’

All my feelings for Georgia that I’m still trying to decipher jumble in my mind. I reach for her cheek, but she jerks her head backward.

The door opens, and our driver says, ‘Time to get in the air.’

Georgia slides over me and steps out of the limo. She hightails it to the stairs.

‘Georgia,’ I call after her, close on her heels and trying not to step on her train.

She holds her dress and marches up the staircase.

‘Georgia,’ I repeat, reaching for her arm.

‘Don’t touch me!’ she seethes, spinning on the top step. Her blue eyes glisten.

My heart feels like it’s being squeezed by a pair of pliers. I’ve never seen her so angry, except after what I did to her by the pool the first night we got to the ranch. I’m unsure what’s happening or causing her to be so upset, but I hold my hands in the air, yielding. ‘Okay.’

She drills her glare into me further, then shakes her head. She turns back and nods to the flight attendant, Carmine. She goes directly to the bedroom and shuts the door.

I step past Carmine and open the door, trying again, ‘Georgia—’

‘Get out, Sebastian,’ she cries out.

‘I don’t understand what’s going on right now,’ I admit.

She laughs, and a tear falls down her cheek. ‘How convenient for you.’

‘Sunshine—’

‘I said to get out, unless you can be honest with me,’ she demands.

I stare at her for a moment, feeling hollow. She’s the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen, and I don’t know why I’m tongue-tied.

She’s my bride.

I’ve hurt her.

I need to tell her how I feel about her.

I open my mouth, but the coward in me wins. I snap my mouth shut.

She looks at me as if I’m pathetic.

I wish I could say I wasn’t, but it’s an appropriate word to describe how I feel. I decide to give her space and offer, ‘When you’re ready to talk about whatever this is, I’ll be here.’

She laughs, wiping at more tears. ‘You can talk to me when you’re ready to be honest.’

‘How have I not been honest?’ I question, but as I say the words, I know I’m lying to her and myself.

She scoffs. ‘Figure it out. Now, get out.’ She squeezes her eyes shut and turns away.

Defeated, I shut the door and plop down on a seat.

‘Mr. Cartwright, would you or Mrs. Cartwright like a drink?’ Carmine asks.

Mrs. Cartwright.

Hearing Georgia called that fills me with pleasure and sadness.

How is it my wife is so pissed at me on our wedding night?

Because I’m a heartless asshole.

‘No, thank you,’ I answer.

Carmine smiles. ‘Jeffry said we’re ready to take off.’

‘Very well,’ I reply.

Carmine nods and then goes to the front of the plane.

Within minutes, we’re in the air. I glance out the window, staring at the fading lights until there’s nothing but blackness. And that’s how I feel right now—dark, void of any light.

Georgia’s light.

Why can’t I tell her how I feel?

What exactly do I feel?

Hours pass. The longer I go without telling her I have feelings for her the worse it gets. I’m unsure how to undo the damage I’ve done by making her agree to this arrangement, and it only makes me feel sicker.

I go to the bedroom door several times but chicken out before I can knock or open it. When we’re six hours into the fourteen-hour flight, I finally get sick of my inability to be a man.

I’ve never felt so nervous. I rise, go to the bedroom door, then knock softly.

She doesn’t answer.

I knock again, this time louder, but no sound comes from inside. I slowly open the door, slip into the room, and lock the latch.

It’s dark, but Georgia’s white dress glows from the little light streaming in from the blinds. She’s curled on the bed, hugging a pillow.

She’s so quiet, I barely hear her raspy whisper, ‘Why are you here, Sebastian?’

I lie on the bed, slide my arm under her, and wrap my other around her. I inhale her sugary-rose scent, then kiss her on the head.

‘Why?’ she repeats.

I realize this is my moment of truth. I either lay my cards on the table, or I’m never getting things back to where they were between us. So I flip onto my back and tug her toward me.

She takes a shaky breath. Her lashes are wet, and her mascara is smudged under her eyes.

I scoot down, so my face is in front of hers, and reach for her cheek.

She closes her eyes and sighs. She states, ‘I can’t do this, Sebastian. I thought I could, but I can’t. Not like this.’

My stomach dives. I blurt out, ‘I like you, Georgia. A lot. More than anyone I’ve ever dated or was engaged to.’

She holds her breath.

I continue, ‘I wish you never signed the contract. More than anything, I wish we could start all over.’

She blinks hard, then says, ‘We can’t, can we?’

‘No. I messed that up for us,’ I admit, tracing her lip with my thumb.

She presses her palm on my chest and traces the outline of my shirt. Zings erupt under her finger, and my heart races faster. She states, ‘You didn’t do this alone, Sebastian. I agreed to it.’

The hum of the engine is the only sound filling the air. A million thoughts spin in my mind, but no solutions to our problem appear. I finally say, ‘You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen. And I mean that. You stole my breath when I saw you.’

Her eyes glisten more. A tiny smile erupts on her lips, giving me a twinge of joy. She continues moving her finger over my skin and states, ‘You clean up well too.’

More time passes, and neither of us tear our gaze off the other.

‘I hate how I couldn’t give you the wedding you deserved.’

Her face falls. She replies, ‘It’s tough not being able to love anyone, isn’t it?’

Without hesitation, I say, ‘What if I regret saying that?’

She freezes, holding her breath.

I ramble, ‘What if maybe there was a woman I think I could fall in love with?’ My pulse pounds between my ears.

She opens her mouth and then shuts it.

The roller coaster in my gut reappears. At record speed, I fall down the first hill and assert, ‘I lost my chance with you, didn’t I?’

The silence is excruciating. I decide I’ve lost her, and there’s no recovering from it, when she asks, ‘Is that what you want, Sebastian? A chance with me?’

‘Yes. I want a real chance. No lies. No deceit. Just you and me,’ I claim.

‘What about your family?’ she asks.

My chest tightens. I shake my head. ‘I don’t know what to do about that. If I tell them before Christmas—’

‘Alexander will become CEO,’ she finishes.

I move over and put my hands over my face. ‘I’m done. My father will never forgive me.’

A moment passes, and Georgia slides on top of me. She locks eyes with me and quietly says, ‘Or we can wait to fess up to them until after you’re named CEO.’

‘But I don’t want to pretend with you anymore,’ I admit.

She smiles. ‘Okay, then don’t.’

‘I’m… Now I’m confused,’ I admit.

She tilts her head. ‘You’ve worked too hard, Sebastian. No one deserves to run Cartwright Enterprises more than you. And Alexander told me he doesn’t want to take over, so what’s the point of your father making that decision?’

‘To teach me a lesson that I deserve,’ I offer.

She scoffs. ‘Maybe you do, but that’s pretty harsh.’

I caress her back, which is another thing that’s been driving me crazy all night. No woman’s back has ever turned me on so much. I ask, ‘What are you saying?’

‘I’m suggesting… Well, I’m suggesting we finish out what we started, let you take over as CEO, then we can figure out what to do about this situation.’

I don’t speak for a while.

‘Do you not want to be CEO?’ she asks.

‘Of course I do.’

‘Good. You’re meant to be it,’ she claims.

‘Thanks for your confidence,’ I tease.

‘You’re welcome. But I only say it because it’s true. And I don’t want to screw that up for you, Sebastian.’

‘You wouldn’t be. It would be my fault,’ I assert.

She bites her lip.

‘What?’ I ask.

‘Maybe so, but you couldn’t have done this without my assistance,’ she declares.

I tighten my arms around her. ‘You are a pretty good assistant.’

A tiny laugh escapes her.

‘I love hearing you laugh,’ I confess.

‘I love hearing you laugh,’ she states.

I admit, ‘I do it more when you’re around.’

Her face lights up. ‘Then maybe you should keep me around.’

I flip her onto her back, and she screeches. I cage my body over hers and insist, ‘Oh, I’m keeping you around, Mrs. Cartwright.’

She reaches for my cheeks, then stares at me.

I lean down and kiss her, and every fear I have seems to melt away.

But then she yawns.

‘Did you just yawn in my mouth?’ I ask, feigning shock.

She giggles and puts her hand over her face. ‘Yeah. Sorry!’

I roll to my side, move her to hers, then curl into her. ‘You can make it up to me when we’re in our hotel room.’

She turns her head. ‘Where are we going?’

My nervousness makes another appearance. I thought long and hard about where to take Georgia. I don’t want to disappoint her again. I announce, ‘Iceland.’

She spins into me. ‘Iceland!’

I chuckle. ‘Yes. Iceland. I assume you’re okay with that?’

‘Iceland during Christmas? Are you kidding me?’ she cries out.

I wiggle my eyebrows. ‘So, does this mean I’m the best husband ever?’

She laughs. ‘Why yes. Yes, you are, Mr. Cartwright.’

‘Maybe we can enjoy the week and deal with the other stuff when we get home?’ I suggest hopefully.

She takes a deep breath and nods. ‘Yeah, let’s do that.’

‘Thank you.’ I kiss her, but she yawns again. I groan. ‘You’re killing me, Sunshine. Roll over.’

‘Sorry.’ She cringes, then obeys.

I wrap my body around her again and order, ‘Go to sleep.’ I kiss her cheek, and she closes her eyes.

For once, everything seems right in my life. I’m unsure how we’ll figure everything out, but right now, I don’t care. I have my Sunshine in my arms and nothing has ever felt better.