Page 56 of Whoa


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Scowling, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Shouldn’t you wash it for me?”

His eyebrow lifted. “Say what?”

“Isn’t it your job to wash my car for me?”

He leaned back like he had to make room for my incredulousness. It was kinda cute, and I had to suppress a smile. “Woman, how the hell is it my job to wash your car?”

“It’s on the list of fiancé duties.”

His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. “There’s a list of fiancé duties?”

I nodded.

“You telling me you don’t even know what bread tastes like, but you have a whole list in your head of shit I’m supposed to do?”

“Priorities,” I sang.

“Give a woman a ring, and suddenly, she thinks she’s the boss,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ben?”

He glanced up, sensing the shift in my mood and tone.

“What, baby girl?”

“So no one else was hurt?”

“No, baby. It was just you.”

“How?”

I’d asked him this before. He always said he didn’t know, but he had to know something. I saw the police outside the door earlier today. I also saw the way Elite planted themselves in the way until they left.

A shuttered look came over his face, the same one he always got when I asked questions he didn’t want to answer.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” I whispered.

His brows drew down, the action scrunching up his nose. “What?”

“To sit here and stare at these four walls and wonder about all the things I don’t know. To look at that cast, to feel sore and stiff, and not know how I got like this. I saw the police outside, Ben. You wouldn’t let them in.”

He snorted. “The cops in this town are as useful as a screen door on a submarine.”

I giggled.

His lips twitched. “It’s true.”

“You have a lot of bad jokes.”

His mouth dropped. Pointing to himself, he asked, “You think my jokes are bad?”

I nodded.

His hands shot out, fingers burying themselves in my sides. I fell back into the pillows with a squeal, squirming away from his tickling. He was relentless, though, his body following mine.

I laughed, unable to twist away as much as I wanted because my body was sore.

“Ben, stop!” I demanded between laughter.

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