“Doesn’t seem like nothing. Also doesn’t appear you’re trying very hard to get away.” I press my lips together.
“Wait a second,” he says, and I glance up at him with pursed lips. “Is my wifejealous?”
“This isn’t the time for teasing, Dex. What’s going on?”
“I had to put in an appearance. That’s all.”
I purse my lips but don’t say anything.
“Tuesdays are appearance days in season. I told you that.”
“Yeah, but I thought you meant like at charity events or at a nightclub. Not at some fancy luxury lounge with models humping your arm.” I fold my arms over my chest.
“My wifeisjealous,” he says, diverting the subject. “And honestly, it’s kind of sexy.” He moves in to kiss me, and I’m so damn hot for him that I momentarily forget that I’m angry. Only…what’s there to be angry about, really?
He’s a football star. He had an appearance. I’m not going to be the kind of wife—real or fake—that’s going to harp on him every time he gets in late.
Especially when he breaks our kiss and says his next words low and deep close to my ear. “I would’ve rather been here with you.”
His mouth moves back to mine, and fifteen minutes later, I’m sanitizing the countertop and blushing as I think about what he just did to me on top of it.
He comes out with Jack a few minutes later, and he says, “I’ve been thinking. I want to get Jack’s last name changed from Jeffries to Bradley.”
My chest warms. Of course he does. Of course he’s falling into the role of daddy—all jokes aside. He’s turning into this swoon-worthy dad, and I’m totally here for it.
But there are other things at play I’m decidedlynothere for. For example, another week comes and goes, and the exact same thing happens the next Tuesday.
Only this time, I’m still awake at three in the morning when he walks in, and I’m seething a little that he did this again.
Why didn’t he just invite me? He’s done that at other events, so why not this one?
“Hey,” he says, and I purse my lips and glare. He moves over to kiss me, and he stinks of cigarettes. I wrinkle my nose, and he sighs. “Come on, Ains. Don’t be like that.”
“Then just be honest with me, Dex.”
“Iambeing honest.” His eyes are pleading with me, and regardless of whether I feel like he’s leaving something out of the story, I can’t help but believe him.
“Where were you?”
He diverts his gaze from me. “The same lounge as last week.”
“What is this lounge you keep going to?” I ask. His court date is the day after tomorrow—or tomorrow, actually, given that it’s three in the morning—for punching that asshole at the charity event, and I’m possibly a bit snippier than absolutely necessary, but I’m tired of feeling like he’s avoiding me.
He blows out a heavy breath. “My father decided to open a VIP lounge here in Vegas, and he asked me to stop by and entertain the clients. Schmooze a little. That’s all it is.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me that?”
“Because I don’t have to answer to you,” he snaps, and then he stops himself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just stressed and overwhelmed with everything right now. My dad…he’s always coming up with these grand plans that somehow involve his kids, and none of us ever know how to say no to him until he drives us as far away as he possibly can.” His voice is low and full of regret as he says the words, and I wonder exactly what he means by that. Before I can ask, he adds, “He wants me to put in an appearance every Tuesday. I didn’t know he’d have the media there documenting my arrival every week, but he has. He wants to blow this lounge up into something huge. He wants to be the next MGM Entertainment or whatever, and he’s using my status to attract clients. That’s all.”
I get the sense he’s leaving something out of the story, but I don’t press him—mainly because he told me the truth, I think, and because having him go there and do this thing without telling me not once buttwicemakes me feel like he’s already backing away.
All of this is yetanotherreminder that there’s a lot about Dex I still don’t know, and it makes me wonder not for the first time whether he’ll ever really let me in to see all the parts of who he is.
I know he’s busy. So busy that his team of lawyers ended up making a plea deal with Jensen Bybee so he doesn’t have to waste his time with court appearances for a silly misdemeanor. We talked about how once the season starts, he won’t be around as much. I get that. But nerves still pulse in me that this has nothing to do with football.
I already lost everything once—back when Jordan said he didn’t after I said I did. I didn’t know at the time how very little Jordan really mattered to me, but it felt like my life was shattered. The second he said the words until the moment I quite literally ran into Dex, I was completely devastated. I had no idea how I was going to pick myself up.
And then this man saved me. He gave me a job. He gave me a place to stay. He married me so I’d have something to throw in their faces at the reunion.
