Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
“If you’re sure,” I say. “But I want to be clear. I’m doing this because you want me to, not because I want to.”
She kisses the center of my chest. “I’m sure. I’ll feel less guilty about you getting behind on work.”
“May I remind you that you aren’t my assistant right now?”
“You brought work up. Not me.”
“That’s true.”
“And it’s really hard for me to just not think about it. Your work isn’t only important to Brewer Air. It’s important to you.”
I smile, watching the sun begin to rise. “It’s a good thing you married me.”
“Why?”
“Because you would’ve quit in the end, or you would’ve been single forever.”
She laughs. “What do you mean?”
“You weren’t going on that date with Thomas.”
Her laugh grows evil.
“You weren’t,” I say, the thought making my stomach tighten. “I was going to find a reason to make you work over.”
“You wouldn’t have.”
“Oh, yes I fucking would’ve.”
“Fine. I wasn’t going anyway. I canceled it the night you called me. He came by to check on Mimi and it was just … sparkless.”
“Sparkless, huh?”
“Sparkless.” She moves her leg over the top of mine. “This feels pretty sparky, though.”
We lie tangled up in the sheets, our bodies connected in every way but one. Chloe is so still, so peaceful, that I think she’s fallen asleep. But when I look down, I notice her eyes are open.
I’d be happy staying in this apartment with her forever, and God knows I could come up with things to entertain us. But something about that doesn’t quite sit right with me. She deserves more than to be kept inside this gilded cage. I want her to enjoy herself in ways besides sex.
I want to show her off and make her feel special.
“I want to take you to dinner tonight,” I say softly.
She takes a deep breath. “I don’t know what you have in mind, but I didn’t bring anything too fancy to wear. Not that I have anything fancy, but the point remains the same.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
“I’m not worried about it,” she says. “I just want to limit your expectations.”
She has no idea that she exceeds them at every turn.
“I’d be proud to take you to any restaurant in this town wearing sweatpants,” I say. “You do know that, right?”
Her breath is hot against my neck. “That’s very sweet of you to say. But even if that were true, that doesn’t mean I’d be willing to do it.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’d be embarrassed.”
I peel her away so I can look her in the eye. “What do you have to be embarrassed about? If anyone judges you over sweatpants, they can fuck off anyway.”
She resumes her position with her arm draped over my stomach. “It’s childhood trauma. I’ve been working for years to erase it.”
“May I ask what happened?”
“It’s nothing too complicated. It’s just that when my parents were married, things were great. But then Dad left us, and Mom and I went from having a very comfortable life to having virtually nothing. I was the daughter of a banker and then the daughter of a woman who cleaned houses for a living. It was a total one-eighty.”
My heart sinks. “Didn’t she get a settlement?”
“His assets were all tied up in trusts. Dad was clever, I’ll give him that. I think Mom did get child support, but the system screwed her.” She sighs. “It just brought Mom and me closer, as we did everything together. She cheered so loudly for me that I didn’t even notice Dad wasn’t there until I was older.”
My jaw flexes as I imagine Chloe’s father walking out on her and her mother. How could he do something like that? It’s beyond comprehension. Then again, my father has done things beyond comprehension, too. It’s even more of a reason to prove to Chloe that good men still exist.
And she has one, if she’ll accept me.
“Things got harder as I got older, and life became more expensive,” she says. “Our situation caused cracks in my friendships because teenagers are mean. I’d be teased over my clothes and that I didn’t get a car for my sixteenth birthday. I couldn’t go to camps with my friends. Honestly, I didn’t even ask because I knew we couldn’t afford it. I still hear those voices laughing at me when I’m underdressed or self-conscious about my makeup.”
“You feel that way now?”
“Sure. I never feel like I’m quite doing things right.” She tenses. “I felt that way coming here. I thought, Women always have lingerie for their honeymoon, and here I am once again without the bare essentials.” She laughs nervously. “It is what it is, I guess.”
What the fuck?
“Hey,” I say, trying to lift her chin to look at me. She resists. “If that thought even crossed your mind, I’m doing something wrong, sweetheart.”
She clings to me. It’s a knife in my heart.