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“Thank you,” she says and she grins as she says it.
“It’s worse.”
“It’s—”
“It’s a shit hole,” I tell her plainly.
“It’s not that bad,” she argues.
“Yeah, babe. It is.”
“Whatever. You will have to sleep on the floor, I’m not giving up the bed.”
“I’m not staying here.”
“Oh. Even better. Later then,” she says way too cheerfully.
“I’m not leaving you here, Faith.”
“I’m not leaving here, period, Titan.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re getting your ass in my car and we’re going back to Vegas.”
“I don’t like Vegas. I was leaving before I met you and I’ve left it now. What’s more, I’m not going back,” she says. She puts her hands on her hips like she’s daring me to argue. She’s sassy as fuck and damn if I don’t like it.
“Where are you going, then?”
“I’m thinking Arkansas.”
“Arkansas?” I was right the first time; the woman is fucking insane.
“Yeah. Little Rock.”
“Do you know someone in Little Rock?”
“No. I just saw the name on my Atlas and I liked it.” She shrugs like that’s perfectly reasonable.
“Fine. We’ll go back to Vegas and get a divorce and then you can go to Little Rock.”
“I’m not going back to Vegas.”
“We need a divorce,” I remind her, frowning because for some reason I don’t like using that word.
“So? I can give you my number and when you get the papers drawn up, you can call me and I’ll tell you where to send them.”
“And you will sign them?”
“Of course I would. It’s not like I want to stay married to you. I hate to break it to you, Big Daddy, but you aren’t the world’s best catch.”
“You should try looking in the mirror.” She frowns at me and I get the strangest notion that I hurt her feelings—which is crazy. “I’ll get my guy in Vegas to fax me the papers you need to sign and bring them by tomorrow,” I decide. That sounds like the simplest plan and really I don’t think it’s healthy for me to be around Faith. I alternate between wanting to kill her or fuck her. “Give me your number and I’ll get out of your hair for the night.”
“Uh… about that,” she says and she’s got that look on her face again. It’s the look I’ve come to know as a warning. A warning she’s about to start spouting bullshit.
“Warning, wife. It’s been a rough few weeks trying to track your ass down. I’ve been on the road nonstop getting to you, and I’ve spent the day with other men being told I don’t have a real dick. I’m not in the mood for more bullshit.”
Her eyes narrow, but then she sighs and shrugs her shoulders in a small, delicate movement that has me watching the way it makes the muscles in her shoulders and neck work. She really is perfection—if you could harness that mouth and only use it for your dick.
“I don’t have a phone,” she mumbles.
“You don’t have a phone?” I ask, totally not believing her. “Everyone has a phone.”
“I don’t.”
“I call bullshit.”
“Do you get that you’re being annoying right now?”
“I get that you’re lying to me.”
“I’m not lying. I had a phone, but I don’t anymore.”
“What happened to your phone?” I ask her, wondering if this is going to be another out there in the twilight type of conversation.
“I dropped it in the toilet.”
“You… When did this happen?”
“A few days after I got here. I dropped it and I just never got around to getting it replaced. I only talk to my sisters or some of my other family. I’ve been keeping in touch with Hope through the phone at Joe’s. There didn’t seem to be a big need to get another one.”
“Didn’t seem to be a need,” I repeat, not believing what the fuck she’s saying to me.
“If you are going to mimic everything I say, it’s going to be a long night.”
“A single woman alone should always carry a damn phone.”
“I’m not single. I’m married.”
“Quit playing stupid,” I growl, tired of games.
“Maybe I’m not playing. I mean, I did marry you.”
“It’s good you remember, since your ass ran off,” I remind her—to which she rolls her eyes. “Get your shit together. We’ll find a hotel tonight and I’ll call my lawyer in the morning.”
“I—”
“I’m not arguing with you, Faith.”
“I told you that you can go. You can call Joe’s—”
“I’m rethinking that. I don’t trust you not to be gone by morning. Now, get your shit.”
“I don’t like you. I think I just need to make that clear.”
“Message received.”
“Crystal clear.”
“Already got that message, wife, and don’t really care. Get your shit.”
She gives me a look I figure is supposed to freeze off my dick and then stomps into the bathroom. I stand there watching her ass as she moves. I don’t sit, because I’m afraid I’d pick something up in this hell hole that might make my dick fall off and I do all of this vowing never to touch tequila again.
