Page 99 of Bound To Be Mine

I leaned back against the booth, considering that. She was right, of course. By any rational measure, we should get the annulment or file for divorce. Go back to square one and do this properly. Date like normal people. See where it went without the legal entanglement.

But the thought of not being married to her made me feel very uncomfortable.

“We’re already married,” I said.

“I’m aware.”

“So why not stay married while we figure things out?”

She blinked at me. “You want to stay married?”

“I don’t see why not. We’re doing fine. The only difference between what we’re doing now and what we’d be doing if we got divorced and started dating is a piece of paper.”

“And the fact that divorce is a lot more complicated than breaking up.”

“Only if it ends badly. If we decide this isn’t working, we file the papers and move on.”

She nodded. “True.”

“I know it’s probably crazy. But I don’t want to end this yet. Do you?”

“No,” she said quietly. “I don’t.”

Relief flooded through me. “So we stay married. Keep doing what we’re doing. See where it goes.”

“Okay. But we need to talk about logistics.” She set down her glass. “Where are we going to live? You’re in New York. I’m in LA. We can’t keep flying back and forth.”

I’d been thinking about this too. “I don’t know. It’s not a problem we need to solve tonight, right?”

“Right.” She smiled. “Why do today what we can put off until tomorrow?”

I laughed. “Terrible motto.”

“I know. I don’t care.”

We finished our drink, talked about a second, but decided my liquor cabinet at home was a better option.

30

MANDY

We stepped into the elevator, and I felt the whiskey warming my blood. Or maybe it was the way Briggs was looking at me—like he wanted to devour me the second we were alone.

Or maybe it was me who wanted to devour him. He did look good enough to eat.

The doors closed. His hand found the small of my back.

“You’re staring,” I said.

“I know.”

The elevator climbed. I watched the numbers tick up. Twenty floors. Thirty. Forty. The anticipation was building with each floor.

When the doors finally opened into his penthouse, I barely made it three steps before his hands were on me. He spun me around, pressing me against the wall beside the elevator. His mouth crashed onto mine.

I kissed him back just as desperately. My hands found his shirt, working the buttons open while his tongue swept into my mouth. I needed to touch him. Needed to feel his skin against mine.

“Bedroom,” I managed to say between kisses.