Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“I can do that.”
While her hand keeps her gaze occupied, she asks, “Can do what?”
“I can give you roses. Jewelry. Reservations at the best restaurants in the city. Anything you want.” I smirk. “I got us six flavors of gelato delivered instantly.”
“Impressive.”
“Wait until you see what else I can do.”
“I’ve seen firsthand what you have the power to do. I’m hoping to shine light on the darker parts.” She runs her hand over my cheek as if she actually cares. “You can just be Warner with me. No fanfare. No big gestures.” Scraping above my ears gently, she rests her hand at the nape of my neck and leans in. “Just you and me.” She closes her eyes when her lips press to mine again, and whispers, “You don’t have to be the bad guy.” Her hand leaves me, ushering in winter without her to keep me warm. Her smile returns, the one that doesn’t feel like it reaches her heart. “What flavors of gelato did you get?” Before I respond, she walks into the bathroom, leaving the door open behind her.
It's only a few seconds. Not enough time to decipher the code she’s speaking in. Why am I the bad guy? It was said so casually, but left an impact without her realizing. A tell? Who does she think I am if not Warner with her? I suspect I’m not as clever as I think I am, at least not with her. I reply, “Pistachio,” loud enough for her to hear in the bathroom.
“I love pistachio.” She returns with my robe wrapped around her body like it’s her property now. If she asked, I’d give it to her. It looks a hell of a lot better on her than on me. “What else?” She takes me by my unbroken arm and tries to pull me to my feet. “What other flavors?”
It’s almost maniacal how she transitions from one mood to the next. The serious side is gone. Her upbeat demeanor keeps me on my toes, literally. I walk with her hand firmly attached in mine. Selfishly, I like this side of her. It’s almost like we’re not trying to fuck each other over. The good in her brings out my better side. “Chocolate with blood orange mixed in.”
“Incredible.”
Like her.
I’m such a sucker for a pretty face and lips that taste like the finest liquor that money can buy. I’m a fucking fool for this woman’s attention. Why does it feel like sunshine on a cloudy day? I eat it up, not realizing how starved I’ve been to have someone look at me like I hung the moon for them. I’m sure the feeling will fade as fast as it came on, but I’m going to enjoy the moment. How can I not when the gleam in her eyes resuscitates the very organ I didn’t think could be saved?
She almost skips to the kitchen, as the anchor weighing her down—me—has finally been released. Her joy is contagious, and all because of gelato. I knew I could convert her over from ice cream, but I’m learning she didn’t lie about the sweet tooth. It’s definitely a way to this girl’s heart. I just wish she craved to finish what was started in the bedroom more. The ache in my belly subsides, but my lingering blue balls have me shifting for a better position on this stool. “Raspberry, stracciatella, lemon, and a lavender basil mix. I went out on a limb with the last one.”
“What flavor are we starting with?” I ask as I settle in to watch her maneuver around my kitchen.
With the freezer door open, she peeks back at me. “We only get to try one?”
I would laugh, but she’s dead serious. “Let’s try them all.”
The pint containers are lined up on the counter in front of me before she leaps in excitement and then scurries to the silverware drawer. Looking inside, she says, “Tell me this isn’t real silver.”
The judgment doesn’t bother me. I have expensive taste, but I’m not that extravagant. “It’s stainless. I prefer stainless steel to having to maintain silver. Anyway, it’s only me here, so I don’t need anything fan—” Our eyes lock across the small space, both of us, apparently, realizing the grave error we’ve made at the same time.
As my wife, she would know the answer.
As her husband, I wouldn’t have responded like I did.
But here we are, stuck in a tangled web in the aftermath.
I’m not sure what to say when it actually goes so well. I managed to flip my mood in accordance with hers. Why’d we have to fuck it up? The reality of what we are now is exposed, lying like a death of something good. “I . . .” I release a heavy breath and then look down to stare at the counter like I’ll find a plan on how to proceed in the swirls of the stone.