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I laugh. "Gosh, you’re taking this whole act-like-a-decent-man-to-woo-Abby, seriously, aren’t you?"
"Very seriously. And I like that word."
"Which one?" I ask.
"Woo. That’s what I want to do, Abby. I want to court you. I want you to get to know me better, and I want to find out everything about you."
I flush. "There’s not much to learn. It’s not like I’m a very interesting person."
"To me, you’re more intriguing than the Mona Lisa. More gorgeous than hitting a six in the stadium. It’s more satisfying to spend time with you than to win a match against my fiercest opponents. And to watch you smile gives me a far greater thrill than leading the English cricket team."
I blush even more, then lower my chin. "You sweet-talker, you."
"Only the truth, baby." He walks over to stand in front of me, leaving enough distance so I don’t feel overwhelmed by his presence. "Off to bed with you now. I don’t want you having dark circles under your eyes. Although I’d still find you beautiful."
56
Cade
I’m up before dawn, having slept for maybe an hour or two. I grab my now dry clothes from the washing machine and pull them on, then fold the robe and the duvet, placing them on the pillow. I walk across the silent living room, and with one last look at the door to her bedroom, I let myself out.
I walk down the flight of steps and out the front door, and I’m assaulted by flashbulbs.Oh, fuck!I blink, then school my features into one of nonchalance. "'Sup, boys?"
The paps keep clicking away. I shut the door behind me and shoulder my way past them.
"You and Abby still together, Cade?"
"Is it true you split up?
"Did you spend the night with Abby? Did you two make up?"
I turn on the reporter who asked the question. "None of your business," I grind out.
The man’s eyes light up.Fuck.Replying to the question was a tactical error. The question was, clearly, a fishing expedition aimed at getting a reaction, and I fell for it.
I turn and begin to walk up the sidewalk when I hear, "Is it true the engagement is fake?" The same reporter’s voice reaches me.
I freeze.The fuck? How did they get wind of that? Was it that…motherfucking Mullet. Definitely, he’s the one behind it.
I square my shoulders and keep walking, with the news people in tow.
"Not that I’m surprised. She might come from money, but she doesn’t compare to the supermodels you’ve dated, eh?"
Anger roars through my veins. I freeze, then turn slowly to face him. "The fuck you talking about?"
The reporter pulls back his lips. "Not the best-looking fish in the sea, eh? Not to mention, she’s overweight, and she—" I leap forward, grab him by his collar and haul him to his feet. "Don’t fucking talk about her, you piece of shit, you—"
"Cade!" Abby’s voice reaches me. "Cade, up here."
I glance up to find Abby leaning out of her bedroom window. She holds my gaze, then shakes her head slowly. I draw in a breath, then another, but make no move to release the bastard.
That’s when she shoves one leg over the windowsill.
"The fuck?" I release the guy and stare up at her. "What are you doing, Abby?" I yell.
Next to me, all of the reporters train their cameras up at her, clicking away furiously.
She smiles slowly. "I trust you to catch me."
