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Shaking my head, and pulling myself out of the distant memory, it’s clear that some things never change. Haden Cooper has zero regard for my feelings.
He doesn’t care that we have piles of washing sitting in our bedroom. His answer is just to put it away. ‘Why do we need to iron it now, it will just get creased in the drawer anyway. Iron it when you need it.’
Haden also lectures me on doing any housework since we have a housekeeper. Poor Rosa, she isn’t a slave. I feel terrible leaving the house a mess, waking up early on the days when she works so I can do a pre-clean.
Before we got married, a few male friends told me it would be the greatest time of my life. Taming the stallion will bring a sense of accomplishment, and landing Haden Cooper is one several couldn’t accomplish. According to the people who know him, I should have been handed a trophy for getting Mr. Playboy to settle down.
On the flip-side, women told me to watch out for the three-year-rut. When it all becomes routine and suddenly, you’ve turned into their mother.
I laughed it off naïvely and had my own beliefs on marriage. As long as you both love each other, the rest will work itself out. Mom and Dad were a good example of two people with opposite tastes and opinions, yet, have remained married for forty-odd years.
The problem is Haden still carries the title of a class-act jerk.
As his significant other, I have no problem telling this to his face on a daily basis. It used to be fun, though, kind of like sexual banter which leads to some very hot sex. I mean, gosh, the man really knows how to get a woman off. He does this thing with his tongue, and I swear you feel like you’ve been possessed.
But he’s a sex maniac. He wants it all the goddamn time.
Never mind that I’m exhausted trying to hold down a full-time job—a role with responsibilities that follow me home almost every day. Then the task of running our household and parenting an energetic four-year-old who has this bad habit of climbing into our bed every night.
Sex is the last thing on my mind, and Haden just doesn’t get it.
I am utterly exhausted by the time my head hits that pillow each night. Equally cranky when he tries to wake me up in the middle of the night for a ‘quickie.’
I’ve been with Haden long enough to know that his blue balls—at least that’s what he thinks he has after one day—is due to the lack of sex and explains why he is uptight, frustrated, and fueled our argument earlier.
I entered his office asking about a new author we were about to offer a publishing deal, who wants to expand on their manuscript which would then move the book into another genre.
“I don’t see what the problem is,” I point out, pushing the manuscript toward him. “Yes, it’s erotic romance, but we discussed this and how we would market it to the right audience.”
His annoyingly chiseled jaw was resting in his palm, barely making eye contact with me, appearing completely uninterested. I know he’s paying me back because I ignored him during The Bachelor finale last night.
“And I told you I don’t think erotic romance can generate the interest we need to make this year’s budget.”
Haden’s patronizing tone does nothing to curb the debate between us. How can a man so sexy be equally as frustrating at the same time? You should be able to answer this in a heartbeat since you married him.
“Is this about last night?”
His eyebrow twitches, a trait he does when he’s about to lie. He thinks I can’t read him, but I’m his wife—I have studied this man every day, countless hours l
ying in bed, just staring at his face while he sleeps. A beautiful face attached to multiple personalities depending on how many times he got blown during the week.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about. You were busy watching some program.”
“I’m sorry.” Apologizing, I lean forward and touch his hand only for him to retract—the stubborn ass wants to prove a point. Pulling back, I fold my arms to meet his stance. “I’m not having this argument again with you. So back to this author—”
“Fine. You show me numbers first, and I mean it. Don’t offer a publishing deal until I see those figures on my desk. I don’t care that we’re married. I’m the boss here, and I make the final decision.”
“Wow.” Laughing, while shaking my head, I cross my arms in disbelief, again. “I thought we were partners in this?”
He raises his eyes to meet mine—a cold stare without a single blink and lips tight, no smile in sight. Be strong, ignore the hazel spell he puts you under even in his jerky moments. Don’t remember the words he whispered to you on your wedding day about being the air he needs to survive.
“Yeah, well, partners also let them stick their dick inside them and get them off so…”
I knew it.
Fucking asshole.
“You know what?” I point my finger right at him, the anger raising my body temperature and changing my tone. “You’re a fucking jerk, Haden Cooper. Nothing, and I mean nothing, has changed about you. Sometimes, I wonder why I even married you.”
