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Then he disappears down the hall without a word.
Chapter 6
Oran
We’ve made it another couple of weeks without killing each other, but that also means low interaction. I go to work all day and leave her home to do whatever the hell she’s doing. Cataloguing the things that have appeared on my walls and other places of my home, snooping is one of her activities. Things I haven’t seen in a long time because I’d left them in boxes once I’d moved in are making an appearance. Also, I have yet to see her frazzled or unkempt, which doesn’t help my libido. Everything inside me wants to grab her and fuck up her perfection.
Either way, her key to escaping all of this is no sex. If I can’t consummate the marriage, then there’s no point in sending mixed signals now. I haven’t heard from my dad, but I know he’s lurking. I’ve learned a long time ago not to take comfort in not hearing from him.
The shrimp pasta she made is delicious, like everything else she has cooked since she moved in. I frown at her profile as I savor the succulence of the shrimp and the hint of spice from the marinara sauce. The damn green beans she served on the side bursts with flavor and has the perfect amount of crunch. I was hoping she’d be a terrible housewife. Wiping up the sauce with an equally delicious roll, I finish my food while I inwardly rage about her perfection.
“Where did you order this?” I drill her, although I know the truth.
“From my brain, the only access you’ve given me is grocery delivery. How in the hell am I supposed to order something with no money Mister-why-do-you-need-an-allowance-you have-everything-you-need-here?”
It’s more of a temporary lockdown until she’s my wife. Unlike Dondi, I don’t take my dad’s word on a damn thing. He’s not above catching her outside and dragging her to the courthouse for an instant union. In fact, I’ve considered it a few times, but she only seems happy when she’s planning that damn wedding. Even now
, her statement was less grumpy since she’s fiddling with a seating arrangement chart.
“Where’s the lie? You have your clothes, food, toiletries, and a place to stay with a beautiful view of the beach.”
Her pouty lips poke out as she turns her expressive eyes at me. Today they look closer to a forest green.
“How about freedom? You mock me about being a princess, but you lock me up in your home and act like a dragon.”
“I can’t be the dragon and the prince. I can’t slay myself.”
Her face lights up with mischief and I know she’s about to be a little shit. “I’d love to see you try. Let me grab you a knife - I mean sword.”
“Har. Har. Har. Then you’d starve or be a thief using a dead man’s money.”
“I’m very self-sufficient. I’m just a casualty of bullshit.”
I nod at the chart. “Why do you care where people sit?”
“It’s part of the planning. Don’t want people in awkward situations.”
“More awkward than attending an arranged marriage ceremony?”
“Quick question, Hell…” I’ve noticed for the weeks she’s called me that a lot. “How much do you want to be involved in helping me with this wedding?”
I give her a look expressing my I’d-be-damned-ness as I respond. “Be happy I’m showing up.”
“That’s what I thought,” she grumbles dryly and moves her trained eye back to the chart. “We need to buy wedding rings unless you want me to check with the grocery store.”
She’s becoming more snarky by the day. I like it and I want to spank her. This is bullshit. We need fresh air.
Rising, I fish my keys out of my pocket. “Well, let’s go.”
She jumps up without argument, collects my empty plate and cup, places them in the dishwasher, the power walks towards her room “to change.” She looked perfectly fine. I’m beginning to believe she doesn’t own lounge clothes.
A few minutes later, she returns in one of her flirty extra girly ass maxi dresses and I’m mad at the amount of cleavage I can see. This is why she sleeps on an air mattress. I follow her outside, mesmerized by how her ass moves in that dress until her dad’s words jump back in my head. Six months. Normal lives.
Karessa didn’t want to go to any of the jewelry shops owned by her parents. Instead, we ended up in a boutique shop that specializes in unique pieces. I don’t give a shit if the band I never wanted and won’t have six months from now is unique, but I gave her ten minutes. Then I picked the rose gold set on display.
Her mouth moves like she wants to protest, but she smiles graciously at the woman and looks at the display on her left for a moment. I see little but different pieces of flower jewelry but nothing wedding related. When her dad releases her accounts and car next week, she can shop until she drops, but for now, I’m ready to go.
All I did was pick our sizes and grabbed two bands, yet that was enough wedding participation I wanted.
