Chapter 8
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The unfamiliar pain between Amanda’s ears pulled her from a deep sleep, and she spent several seconds trying to track down the source of the throbbing. When she opened one eye and saw the empty bottle of wine next to the clock—right where she’d left it the night before—it all came together.
She was experiencing her first hangover.
It wasn’t too bad. Not great. She wasn’t having fun. But it wasn’t bad. Maybe she would let Jack talk her into sharing another bottle before they left Vegas.
Jack. My husband. My husband, Jack.
He was still her friendJack, first and foremost. And maybe her mentor.She knew she shouldn’t think of him in terms like husband and spouse, but the world would view her as his wife for the next two years at least. Even if they didn’t share a bed.