Honeyis something so mundane and simple, making her reaction extremely endearing.
“Uh,” she says and pulls herself together. Clearing her throat, she gives me a meaningful look. “Remember my ex-husband I told you about?”
I look back at him, equally as unimpressed as he is by me. She’s never mentioned him to me, but just like at the bar, it’s easy to play off my surprise.
The man in front of me is more shocking than learning Calypso was previously married.
Not only is he clearly a fucking prick, but he’s such apretty boy.
I love nice things and am willing to drop some cash for them. That’s why I didn’t blink an eye at buying the earrings for Calypso, but it wasn’t for any sort of gain on my end. There’s a difference between expensive taste andthis.
Her ex-husband has probably never scraped his knee, and spends longer on his hair than his current and formerwife do. None of that is necessarilywrong,but when it’s paired with his obvious entitlement, it would be suffocating.
I mean, who the fuck wears a tailored suit to a farmer’s market on the pier? His gelled-back hair looks greasy and his eyes are beady, emphasizing the overall supercilious demeanor he carries himself with.
After spending only a few hours in her presence, I realize that Calypso will only accept being worshipped. I’ve gotten a peek of that today, seeing how easily she accepted my expensive gift, and acting as if it’s a privilege to hold her bags.
It fucking feels like one.
In bed, she liked being fucked hard but not rough.Even when she was under me, she was always a little more in control than I was. It was hot as hell. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her breathy demands and apparent disinterest in my pleasure, knowing it was inevitable, whereas hers needed to be worked for.
With one look, I know this dude has no interest in anything that doesn’t benefit him. A lot of men are too stupid to realize the infinite rewards that come from making sure your partner is well-taken care of, emotionally and physically. The young, sad woman standing meekly beside him only confirms my assumptions.
“Huh,” I finally say, as if that’s enough of an answer.
His glare falters for a second at my disinterest.
“This is Stefan,” Calypso says, offering me more information than I expected.
With a snotty upturn of his nose, he offers me a hand, like it’s muscle memory. “Stefan Prescott. And you are…”
Ignoring his hand, I slip mine a little further around Calypso’s back, making sure he sees me grab her hip protectively—possessively. She doesn’t move closer but also doesn’t flinch away from mytouch.
Small wins.
“Liam Maddon,” I say.
I included my last name out of habit, but a deep sneer pulls across his features as his eyes flash to Calypso.
“Maddon?” he scoffs. “As in Mia Maddon?”
Neither of us answer. Calypso crosses her arms, now wearing the smug expression he was sporting seconds ago. I’m trying to figure out what my cousin has to do with any of this.
“You’re fucking your divorce lawyer’s brother?” he accuses.
It’s harder to hide my surprise this time. Calypso must have been one of Mia’s first clients. And if he were anyone else, I’d almost feel bad for Stefan. Respectfully, Mia is a fucking shark.
“Cousin, actually,” Calypso says smoothly.
I smirk down at her with a heated look that she matches with a saccharine smile—the cherry on top of this whole interaction.
I wish we were still fucking.
The familiarity from that look is enough to confirm any of Stefan’s suspicions. He’s stunned silent, scrutinizing me.
After a moment of tension, Calypso steps forward and my hand drops. She closes the space between her ex-husband, and my hackles rise. I tell myself it’s because I don’t trust him, but Calypso doesn’t look scared—only determined. His slimy smile makes me want to fucking deck him right here on the pier.
“I’m Calypso,” she says in a softer voice than I’ve ever heard from her. “It’s nice to meet you.”
