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“We’re going to antedate it to before the wedding.”
“Ante-what?” I hate when he uses words he knows I won’t understand, just to mess with my head.
“Backdate it.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “What the fuck is that document?”
“It’s on the kitchen table. Why don’t you go check for yourself. I’ll see you at lunch.”
That document is a deed of ownership, apparently. It’s twenty pages long and looks like my worst nightmare in terms of combinations of words.
But I can’t fucking sign something and not read it. Especially when it comes from Nate. So I pour myself a glass of water, sit down at the kitchen island in nothing but a robe, and get to work.
I’ve not finished the first sentence when the headache comes back.
Fuck. I hate words.
It says something about a hotel.
“Cascade Hotels?” I murmur to myself.
Isn’t that some fancy chain of hotels? There’s one in Silver Falls, on the South Bank.
I look at the name of the current owner. Campbell?
I read the next line, murmuring to myself. “…Cascade Hotels…ugh, fuck.” That’s the same line. I go back to the name, reading the line three times before I realize I haven’t moved forward.
“Fuck,” I snap.
Putting my index finger on the page, I bend closer and follow as I read.
I startle when the door to the kitchen opens.
“Kay, what the fuck? I told you to be ready to leave by lunchtime.”
“Huh?” I snap my head up, my neck screaming from the stiffness.
“Did you sign?”
“What time is it?”
He stalks toward me, slapping a hand on the contract and sliding it toward himself. Going to the last page, he notices it’s lacking my signature.
“You’re a stubborn brat, you know that?”
My head feels like it’s full of cotton, and my headache is back tenfold. I shake my head. “I just wanted to read it.”
“So? Did you?”
He looks back to the page I was on, then back at me, and cocks an eyebrow. “The small battles you fight are not going to be worth it in the long run, little sunflower.”
Gripping my upper arm, he forces me up. In a split second, I’m bent over the kitchen island.
“Why are you stalling?” he growls in my ear at the same time as he shoves my robe to my waist. “You know you’re going to lose, and you’ll end up doing what you’re told in the end.”
“I wasn’t stalling!” Frustration claws at my chest. “I was reading it.”
“Oh, really? I was gone for five hours, Kayla.” A harsh slap lands on my ass cheeks, making me push on my toes.
