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Like he’d buried Gracie, I thought.
My heart squeezing, I snuggled into him a little more. “I wish I could say you’ll never have to, but with any luck I’ll be old and gray and wrinkly when the time comes. And you’ll get a call that your ex-wife met her end.”
“Ex-wife?”
“Oh, you’ll have moved onto some superhot blonde by then. She’ll be, like, our daughter’s age. Her name will be … I don’t know … Candy or something like that. And you’ll know she’s a total gold-digger, but you’ll be helpless against those jaunty breasts. My saggy, wrinkly ones will never compete.”
He heaved a sigh. “Some seriously weird shit goes through your head on a regular basis, Addison.”
“So I’ve been told.”
His hand returned to my neck and gave it a light squeeze. “At no point will you be my ex-anything.”
“Even when Candy shakes her tits at you?”
“Even then.”
“Even when I have old lady breath and jowls down to my ankles?”
“Down to your ankles?” he repeated, incredulous.
“Hey, jowls are serious business.”
Another heavy sigh. “Jowls or no jowls, we’re not divorcing.”
“Good. I’d hate to have to slap you with my saggy boobs.” I almost smiled as he defeatedly shoved his face in my hair.
“Maybe we could have a normal conversation.”
“Now why would we want to do that?”
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Tell me you’re not even thinking of going to work.”
Sitting upright against the headboard the next morning, I looked from my phone to Dax. He stood at the foot of the bed in only sweatpants, glaring at me. Hard.
I’d woken to the sound of him puttering around the bathroom, but I was so tired I might have fallen back asleep if it wasn’t for the dull pain and stiffness in my neck. Yeah, whiplash had struck, as expected. It was nowhere near as bad as the first time I’d had it, thankfully—small mercies and stuff.
When his brow flicked up in question, I twisted my mouth. “Well—”
“No,” he interrupted, his tone non-negotiable. “You’re staying home even if I have to sit on you to make it happen.”
Dramatic much? “Relax, jeez.” I idly plucked at the coverlet as I admitted, “I didthinkabout going.” I wouldn’t have been able to drive, of course, but I could have called a cab or something. “But Sabrina will just nag me to go home, and I’m too tired to argue with her. I can answer important emails and stuff from here anyway.”
Plus, my parents and siblings planned to visit at some point. As news traveled fast in Redwater—especially around Oakengrove—I’d texted them with news of the crash last night. Alicia would have undoubtedly otherwise learned of it from Jenson. They’d all called me, as concerned for me as they were enraged with Thaddeus.
Dax grunted in a kind of grumpy satisfaction and held out painkillers. “Take these.”
I gladly did so with the help of the glass of water I kept on my nightstand.
“A dip in the jacuzzi might help.”
Ooh, good idea. “And wine.”
“Wine and painkillers don’t mix,” he reminded me.
I felt my face fall. “Fuck,” I muttered.
