Finch runs across the room, stops in front of me, and barks. I put a hand to my chest and scream.
“God damn it.” He takes her collar and pulls her away. He opens the sliding glass door, and she runs outside. “She likes you, but she’s not used to another person living here.”
“The feeling is not mutual. I hate that bitch.” The response flies out without a thought.
“Don’t call her that. You’ll hurt her feelings,” he chastises.
I put on a fake smile. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He arches an eyebrow, almost as if in disbelief. I shake my head, walk to him, and put a hand on his bicep. “Um,” I clear my throat. He freezes at my touch. “Why don’t you let me set the table so we can eat since you went through the trouble of getting us lunch?”
His eyes narrow at me, but I don’t feed his mistrust. I leave him in search of plates and set the table for two.
“How about some champagne?” I find a bottle. He takes it from me, and the bottle pops when he removes the cork. He fills two flutes. I take mine and hold it up. “To a new beginning.”
“A new beginning?” His question is laced with mistrust.
“Yes. A new beginning.” I clear my throat and do my best to smile convincingly.
“What is this, Bella?”
“I’m capitulating. You won. I’m not going to be miserable.” I put my flute down, and when he does the same, I take both hands in mine. “I don’t want to keep fighting with you. And I have to admit that, at the very least, we are attracted to each other.” What he doesn’t realize is that I would fight him until my last breath, but I keep that to myself.
He licks his lips as he looks down at my mouth. His cologne hits my nostrils, and I inhale.
“Yeah. At the very least,” he agrees.
“And how many honeymoons can a girl have?” I do a shrug. “Eden only went to New York for a few days, and they got married for love.”
“You can have as many honeymoons as you want.” I put my hands to my cheeks and pretend to blush. “If you’ll get a damn passport.” I can hear the annoyance in his voice. My plan worked, and I take great joy in that.
“We can take things slow and see how we get along in Chicago.” I shock him when I wrap my arms around him for an impromptu hug. He wraps his arms around me and plants soft kisses on my temple.
It would be nice if I weren’t so angry with him, but this is going to be easier than I thought.
“I’ve always wanted to see the Bean and the Mag Mile. And I hear the food is fabulous. I’m going to research restaurants on the plane.”
“We’ll do whatever you want, sweetheart.” He tilts my chin up and plants a soft kiss on my lips.
“Really?” I bat my eyes at him and channel my excitement on Christmas morning when I was seven.
“Really. I can give you whatever you want.”
I splay my hands on his large chest. I glance up at him and quickly look away. “You can be sweet and romantic sometimes.” I pretend to blush.
“I can be that to you all the time.” He grasps my chin. “You’re my wife.”
He says it with such pride that for a brief moment, I wanted this to be real, but I know myself. I know I’ll never be able to forgive how he manipulated his way into this marriage.
“And you’re my husband.” The words almost get stuck in my throat. “I’m willing to try. I’m sorry for my attitude leading up to the wedding and last night.” I almost choke on my apology, but the fool closes his eyes, exhales, and rests his chin on top of my head.
“I forgive you, baby.”
The arrogance of this man to think that I would ever apologize to him or need his forgiveness. He’s the one who should be begging me to forgive his manipulative ass, but I know I can do this long enough to break him as he deserves.
Chapter 35
Dax
I wonder what my duplicitous little liar of a wife is after. My first instinct is not to trust this sudden about-face, but I also want it to be true.
