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If she’d stayed that way, I’d have drowned us both in my…. Well, calling them idiosyncrasies was being kind.
It was also an understatement.
She brought fire to this dead apartment.Life.
Some mornings, I woke up and wondered how the fuck I’d survive if she weren’t in bed at my side.
The seven-year-itch was supposed to detract from a wife’s appeal, not strengthen it.
Unaware of my thoughts, she grumbled, “It’s not fair that Cammie had dainty kids and I won’t.”
Her logic had me arching a brow at her. “She had hers premature. I’m sure that helped.”
She sniffed as she dragged off the dress, swooping it over her head and making my blood pressure surge when she revealed a bunch of lingerie that had plenty of other things surging to life as well.
“God, that’s better. I can breathe again.”
That snagged my attention. “It didn’t fit?”
“It did, but it was tight.” She patted Bump. “He likes it when I’m naked.”
I snickered. “I had something to do with that.”
A wicked glint appeared in her eyes. “I’m sure you did.”
“You’re not technically naked.”
“Might as well be. Plus, I can’t sit on the sofa with no panties on. You’ll start Lysolling it after I get up and hormones will make me cry because they’ll think you’re saying I’m dirty—”
I winced but didn’t argue. She shot me a pointed look then stepped out of the bedroom, out into the hallway, then down into the kitchen.
Like she was the Pied Piper, I followed her after I’d hung my sports coat in the closet, and finding her with her butt sticking out of the refrigerator, I enjoyed the view as I took a seat on one of the stools at the counter.
As she dragged out the ingredients for one of her smoothies, I simply watched her as she started setting out the produce she wanted to use.
It was late in the day for a breakfast drink, but this was one of her cravings.
Breakfast smoothies that she tossed pickle juice into.
Disgusting.
When she’d stopped dipping into the fridge, she cast me a look and asked, “What did you do to Dean Forrester?”
I merely smiled. “Why would you think I’d do anything?”
“Because I know you?” She waggled the knife at me. “Don’t give me that innocent look. I stopped believing that when you told me you dognapped my professor’s Pomeranian with a blank expression.”
I shrugged. “People like that don’t deserve dogs. I gave Fluffy to someone who needed her.”
“Your mom.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “You can’t go around—”
I arched a brow. “Watch your words, Inessa. I can’t go around…fixingthings for you? I think you’ll find I can.”
She huffed. “Can’t you do regular stuff? Like complain to the governors? Or get them fired?”
“Would you like to be consulted in how I do my business?” I asked silkily.
Nessa froze then shot me a look. “You’re joking?”
