“Yes, I should. Why do you think I carry plastic?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Methinks the lady shouldn’t protest too much. A husband is entitled to spoil his wife.” I scrawl my signature on the five-figure sales slip. Everything is beautifully wrapped and presented in glossy shopping bags.
Belle looks at me, her teeth worrying her lower lip, then finally looks away with a sigh.
“What?” I know she wants to say something.
“Nothing.” She shrugs, then shakes her head.
She’s entirely too emphatic, and that generally means “nothing” is really “something.” I want to force her to say what’s on her mind, but I stop as apprehension shivers through me. What if it’s something I don’t want to hear?
Fuck.
I wish I hadn’t talked to Elizabeth at the dinner. Then maybe I wouldn’t feel so off balance and unsure. Women are always predictable. They want money first and foremost, and are willing to do almost anything to get it. That’s why you see a perfect ten hanging out with a fat guy old enough to be her father. Someone like my sister, who honestly doesn’t care about such materialistic things, is rare…an anomaly.
Now I’m with another anomaly—my wife. And there’s a sinking feeling that I don’t have what it takes to keep a woman like her.
“Want to hit a few other stores?”
“No.” Belle checks the time. “We have two hours left until our flight.”
Since traffic in the Bay Area can be pretty nasty, I dump all the shopping bags in the trunk of our Audi rental and open the passenger door for my wife. She slides in, one taut and silky calf showing through the side slit in her dress. The second she’s seated, she smooths her skirt, and the golden skin is gone from view. Still, it’s a hell of a sexy peek. There’s an innate sensuality to her that’s far hotter than a buck-naked lingerie model.
My body tightens as heat prickles along my spine, and I wipe my mouth with my hand. I’m acting like we didn’t spend our morning in bed, fucking each other’s brains out.
I climb behind the wheel and start driving. She smells so good next to me—warm and sweet—and her breasts rise and fall gently with each breath, offering a tantalizing view above her modestly cut bodice. I’m so distracted that I almost don’t hear her question.
“Last week you said you were going to pay Mr. Grayson off. Do you mind…if I do it?”
“Um…” I blink, trying to reorient myself. “I thought you didn’t have the money.”
“I don’t, but…” She hesitates, then straightens herself. “I want to use your money to pay him off. But I’ll pay you back.”
“Not necessary,” I interject. From the way she tightens her jaw, I doubt she agrees with me.
She continues, “I want to see him face to face…let him know he can’t try to control me anymore.”
Closure on your own terms. I can understand that. Still… “Isn’t he dangerous?”
“I don’t think so.” She shakes her head. “I mean, yes, I think he is a user and not aboveboard, but I don’t think he’s going to get violent if that’s what you mean. Also, I plan to meet him someplace public.”
I consider. She’s probably right. Grayson works for Keith, and Keith may be a snake, but he’s also a coward. He won’t ever do his dirty work in the light of day, and certainly he doesn’t have the guts to get physical. When I discovered he was stealing from m
e and Lucas, I hit him in the jaw—twice—and he just cowered and covered up. It is as though he’s afraid to fight back.
Nevertheless, this is my wife we’re talking about, and I don’t like the idea of her going out there to confront his agent on her own. I open my mouth, about to gloss my real thoughts and then go ahead and do what I think is best anyway, but stop. If I want to fix what’s broken between us, I can’t just do whatever the hell I feel like regardless of her wishes. “Hmm… I don’t like it.”
“I know, but it’s important to me.”
“How about if I come with you?”
“I don’t think that would be wise. Like I said before, he’s my problem, and I want to deal with it.”
I stare at the red light. Traffic’s heavier than I expected, and the bright sunlight reflects off the roofs of the cars around us. I squint through my shades and tap the steering wheel with my thumb. Belle turns toward the window and looks out at the street on her side with various shops and slow-milling pedestrians.
“It is okay for you to lean on me once in a while,” I say as the light turns green and I hit the gas.
