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"It’s a question I have, too. Anyone else would buy themselves designer clothing and shoes. Given your love for designer brands, you could buy out half of Selfridges and still not run out of money, but you chose to give it to charity."
"Does that make me a loser?" I shuffle my feet. "It’s not that I didn’t think about buying clothes or shoes or going out to a fancy restaurant, but the gestures have begun to seem empty. I don't feel the need to spend his money on myself. I have enough of my own to take care of my needs." I raise a shoulder. "Maybe I’m not like other girls. Maybe that’s why I went from one man who betrayed me to another who also betrayed me."
Tears crowd the back of my eyes, and I blink them away.I am not a loser. I am not.So what if I’m in a marriage that doesn’t mean anything? It’s been a week since I moved out of Rick’s room, a week since he reveled of the reason why he’d asked me to marry him, a week since I married him anyway.
I shake my head. I’m working from home today. A suggestion Edward green-lit, but which was met with stony silence from Rick on the call today, given I hadn’t informed him of it. I figured he was going to find about it anyway, so there was no need for me to tell him. Throughout our conference call, Rick didn’t say a word. His disapproval was a sheet of glacial ice that loomed high over my updates.
Edward pretended not to notice, so I followed his cue and addressed all of my comments toward him. Except at the end, when he said congratulations. I faltered then. Edward gently chided me on not keeping him updated on the step Rick and I had taken. My husband still didn’t utter a word.
Argh, my husband. It feels strange to think of him that way. It doesn’t seem real to me. Maybe because I haven’t told anyone else—certainly not my mother, who wouldn’t have cared either way. I’m wearing my engagement ring but took off my wedding ring after that run-in with Rick. I don’t want to risk running into anyone else while wearing it. It would raise a lot of questions, most of which I have no answers to.
Tiny must sense my distress, for he slows down and bats his head against my side.
"Hey baby." I bend and hug him. He immediately nestles his head into my neck. I giggle. "Ooh, Tiny, that’s tickles."
"He’s making the most of having two women at his beck and call." Mira rubs his side, and he makes a purring noise. I chuckle, then straighten and tug at his ears. His eyes roll back in his head. Both of us burst out laughing. Tiny pants a little, and his tongue lolls down one side of his mouth. The dog definitely has a smile on his face.
"So that’s why Grams insisted I take him. She knew I was feeling down and Tiny would cheer me up."
"She seems like a wise woman."
"She is." I nod.
"I’d love to meet her."
"I’d love for you to meet her, too, but I’m not sure that’s wise, considering the situation between me and Rick." I raise a shoulder.
"I’d think your relationship with his grandmother is separate from your relationship with him."
"You’re right, of course. It feels weird, is all, considering I met his Grams through him, and now he and I are not exactly on speaking terms. And it would be hard to keep that a secret from her."
"Maybe you should speak to him and sort things out. Especially since you’re going to have to face him sooner or later."
I wince. "Hopefully, it’s later." I’ve managed to avoid him, for the most part. But with the League finals coming up, and with the Ice Kings having made it to the final round, the media attention around the finals is at an all-time high, too. I have my work cut out for me. I simply have to find a way to make it through without running into him.
"You’re going to have to meet him, at some point." She looks past my shoulder and her gaze widens. "A point which might be sooner than not."
"If you see him coming yell 'alphahole,' will you?" I murmur.
"Alphahole," she mumbles.
At the same time, Tiny barks, then strains at his leash with enough force that he pulls it out of Mira’s hand.
"Tiny!" Without even thinking about it, I pivot and begin to follow him, then stop when I take in the gorgeous man, clad in shorts that mold to his thighs and a T-shirt that shows every hard plane and divot of his delicious chest, grab his leash, before petting him.I will not drool. Will not drink in the sight of his familiar features which send a burst of happiness and arousal coursing through my veins.I tip up my chin, then fold my arms across my chest. "Are you following me?"
67
Rick
"Are you avoiding me, you—" I wince because Tiny plants his paws on my chest. He’s a well-behaved dog, but the excitement of seeing me has made him forget his training. Is it crazy to think he's punishing me for what I did? That he's putting his weight on me to send me a message? He presses down on the parts of me that haven’t yet fully mended. Then, rising up to his full height, he unfurls his tongue and licks my face. "Ugh, Tiny." He pants, and doggy breath swirls over me like a cloud of exhaust. I cough, then tug on his leash. He manages to lick my face with his dinner-plate-like tongue before I step back and urge his front legs down. He pants and looks at me with that smiling face of his. Too bad my woman doesn’t feel the same.
Goldie scowls at me. She doesn’t come closer, either. As if sensing the tension between us, Tiny woofs. Then he strains at his leash. It’s either let him go or follow him… I choose the latter. He closes the distance to Goldie, and when he reaches her, he rubs his big head against her side. Her features soften. She rubs him behind his ear, and he makes that purring sound that's so incongruous, considering it’s coming from a two-hundred pound dog.
Mira chuckles. "Jeez ,Tiny, you need to be more dog."
"Andyouneed to be gone," Goldie says without looking at me, derision evident in her tone.
"You need to give me a chance."
