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“Careful, Declan. Your misogyny is showing.”
“Because I like you better without a personality.”
“I don’t want any child to grow up thinking their parents don’t love them.”
“Ahh. There’s the big, grumpy man I know and like.”
“You’ve really thought of everything, haven’t you?” “Everything except for you.”
Damn right she wasn’t. Fake marriage or not, Iris is destined to be with one man and one man only. Me.
fuel his. Except Declan doesn’t get ruffled. He merely walks up to me, leaving only a few inches between our faces. “Be a good fiancée and help me out.”
“There’s no race next weekend, but since you weren’t the worst company ever, you can join me for the one after.”
“Maybe not yet but give it time. If there is anyone Declan has a soft spot for, it’s you.”
Being curious about Declan would only complicate things, so I’m better off keeping some distance.
“If hell were a theme park, they would have lifetime passes.” My comment earns me a wheezy laugh.
“Don’t go.”
“You make tonight somewhat more bearable.”
My thumb brushes the inside of her wrist. “Do you want to hear some more?”
“I can assure you that I will always have Iris’s best interests at heart.” Even if they jeopardize mine.
I’m not sure I have ever seen Declan look at me like this, but it does something crazy to my heart rate.
Because Declan Kane doesn’t show his cards. Admitting he’s madly in love with you in front of a packed church isn’t on-brand.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” I whisper in her ear before tucking a stand of hair behind it. Her fake laugh grates against my nerves. “Why would anything be wrong?” I grimace. “You don’t look happy.” “Unlike you, some of us can’t fake it 24/7.” Her voice can barely be heard over a gust of wind.
“You look good on your knees, Mr. Kane.”
Declan noticed and laughed.
“It’s a wife’s job to call you out on your bullshit because the rest of the world sure as hell won’t. Not when they’re too afraid to speak up around you.”
“Is it that bad?” I look up at him. “What?” “The idea of becoming my wife.”
Sure, a cake tasting and a family dinner might have been a fun change of pace for us, but that’s all it was.
Something flashes in her eyes before she recovers. “Good. God forbid you actually have to pretend to be into me.”
“Get my wife whatever she wants.” Declan doesn’t look up from his tablet. My stomach flutters in a way that has nothing to do with flying jitters.
The corners of Declan’s mouth lift as he feigns interest in whatever is on his screen. I glare. “Are you enjoying yourself?” “I do find your possessiveness entertaining.” “I am not possessive.”
“The man has his own charity. One that gives kids free prosthetics, for crying out loud. He is practically begging for the world to fall in love with him.”
I turn on the smart TV, sign into my streaming service account, and choose my comfort home renovation show, hoping it can ease the anxiety bubbling inside of me.
ITS THE FORESHADOWING FOR ME
“Downplay your experience because someone else had it harder than you.”
lost cause.” “Why didn’t you tell me the moment you saw them?” And please tell me you didn’t read the comments. “Because I didn't find it worth ruining our last day together with something like this.”
“I can’t talk to you right now.” I can’t talk to anyone, let alone her.
“Please don’t make me go alone.” Her plea is my undoing.
Well, none except for Cal and me, that is. You’re the one who told her you don’t want to be her friend.
“I’m enjoying the view.” She glances out the window. “Says the man who hasn’t even looked outside once.” “That’s not the view I’m talking about.”
“I’m not confused. Far from it, actually. I know exactly what I want.” “And what is that?” “You.”
Our marriage might be fake, but these feelings burning inside me are anything but. It’s only a matter of time before I make her mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.
He taps his thick-rimmed specs. “The bifocals don’t lie.”
His head drops back. Declan’s laugh is a weapon of mass seduction, and I’m its biggest target. It’s rough and unpracticed, and it makes a tingle shoot down my spine.
I want to throw my phone at the nearest wall. Tears fill my eyes, but I blink them away.
“What are you doing?” “Helping my wife.” My throat bobs. “You’re growing a bit too comfortable with that nickname for my liking.” “I use it to remind you of your place.” “And what’s that?” “Mine.”
These are my terms and conditions, take it or leave it because I’m not open to negotiations.”
“Because there is nothing I want more than to turn a house into a home with you.”
