This is the first thing I'm going to tell Xavier when he wakes up. Seriously, it's not like him to sleep this late. I can't believe he missed his morning run. My feelings of elation and pride drift away. I may not know him well, but I know this is not a good sign. He must be in a really bad place.
I guess my vagina isn't that magic after all.
Well, the least I can do is make him his breakfast smoothie. Naturally, I have no idea what he puts in it, so I Google recipes while I take stock of what's in my kitchen.
Look at me being a good wife and all.
If you'd told me a month ago that I'd have protein powder and kale and turmeric in my house, I'd have thought you were crazy. Of course, the health food stocking my fridge is only secondary to the fact that I married—and had my world rocked by—a super hot, superkindpro athlete.
The noise of the blender is enough to rouse Xavier, and he stumbles out to the kitchen, clad in only his shorts. His hair is tousled, most likely from the number of times I ran my fingers through it last night, and his stubble is thicker than normal.
And there they are. His abs.
I can confirm that they are indeed lickable.
I bite my lip to keep my tongue from taking over.
"Morning. I made you a protein smoothie. I think I did at least. I make no guarantees about the taste." I hold the concoction out to him, willing my hand not to shake.
Why the hell am I nervous now? He's seen—and explored—every inch of me. A bit of the smoothie sloshes over onto my hand. Instinctively I stick my finger in my mouth to lick it off.
I won't be craving this concoction any time soon, but it's not awful. I am glad I'm not the one who has to drink it.
But then I see it. His pupils dilate and his lips part slightly.
Maybe my lady bits did cast a spell.
Good. We're going to need it to drop this bomb on him.
"Ophelia, I wanted to discuss last night." He takes a large drink of the smoothie and then pulls a face.
"That good?"
"It's, well, no. Not good. I'm sorry. It is the thought that counts though."
My quivering quim may never quiver again. In fact, I can practically feel it shriveling up into my body, never to see the light of day.
"Too heavy on the turmeric and ginger."
I blink, trying to figure out what he means. "Oh, thesmoothie." I smack myself on the forehead.
"It's not inedible, but I hope you don't take offense if I add some more berries to it." He brushes past me and sets about fixing my mess. "What did you think—oh, Ophelia, last night, well …"
I turn to look at him, and I swear he's blushing.Blushing!He stammers, "Er, ah, it was quite lovely, in my opinion. Are you settled with it?"
Settled? What's that supposed to mean? Settled like it occurred and is in the past? "Of course."No.
I mean I have to be, if he doesn't want anything else to happen, then that's that. "So what now?" If he doesn't have a plan, then I'm definitely busting out my rules. We need them now more than ever.
"Well, I've got to try to set up a call with someone at the agency to see what can be done to salvage my career."
"Do you still want me to call the movers?" The place is technically ours. As soon as we can get furniture there, we could stay there. Xavier's stuff, with the exception of two suitcases, is in a storage pod in Baltimore.
"Let's hold on that to see if I'm still getting traded."
The knowledge of what I discovered sits heavy in my stomach. "Um, the trade is dependent on becoming a citizen right?"
Xavier nods. "Yes, that's why we did all this."
