I don’t think she’s blinked in the past thirty seconds either. A gasp leads to her sucking in air. On the end of a gentle and torturously slow release, she says, “You may not be drunk, but something has gotten into you. I’m thinking booze is to blame. Exactly how much have you had to drink?”
“Not enough to be unaware of exactly what I’m doing.”
CHAPTER 14
Delaney
I’m notsure how much Warner had to drink before he entered the bedroom, but the glass next to him doesn’t seem empty enough to justify the sudden reversal in his behavior. Unfortunately for me, it’s been a while since I’ve been kissed, much less anything else. Between the push for finals and then graduation, the job search, and working full-time at the restaurant, dating was the last thing I had time for.
I figured he was a workaholic, but maybe he’s in his office doing sit-ups all day. How else is that man built like that? His flashing those unreal abs of his while that large and strong hand rubbed over them was cruel. How am I supposed to be on top of my game when he’s distracting me like that? He has me temporarily losing my better judgment. I could say that about this whole scheme I’m buried three days deep into as well. But there is no point in quibbling about the small things I can’t change.
Tit for his tat, I say, “Should have brought me a glass.”
He hands me the glass. “We can share. Since we’re married, swapping saliva doesn’t bother me.”
With a roll of my eyes, I laugh. “Swapping saliva? You sure do make it hard to resist with that description.” I take the glass because the straight liquor will surely kill any cooties Warner Landers might have. Holding the crystal-cut glass to my mouth, I only tip it back enough to let the liquid coat the rim, then press it to my lips for a taste. The heat is instant, my throat warm from the introduction. I take a small sip, then hand the glass back to him.
His eyes stay set on mine as he drinks from the glass. Watching the tip of his tongue dip to catch any remains on his lips has me wanting to tackle this man. Then I remember it’s him . . . the man wanting to destroy my family’s livelihood and home. He probably gets off on crushing the little guy. That he’s attractive, ungodly so, doesn’t deter me from reaching my goals. Admittedly, it makes it easier. I mean, it’s not hard to look at him or those abs.
God, I sound so shallow.
He could have any woman he wants, so sue me for wanting to be on the receiving end. He doesn’t seem to be in a relationship since no women have knocked down his door, and somehow, his personality switching today has been a nice change.
Don’t let up, Delaney.
The moment I detour to give him grace, I’m sure he’ll do whatever he can to make things worse for me. Just like when he brought a “friend” out of nowhere. He forced me into a corner, digging my grave even deeper than it already was by lying some more. What else was I supposed to do? I felt trapped.
His demeanor has changed, so mine needs to adapt. The man is suddenly turned on. I think it started when I wasdigging into his pocket. What will I do if he wants to have sex? I inwardly grin. I’m thinking there could be worse positions to be in than flat on my back under him.
Ugh.Get your mind out of the gutter. I need to figure out how to bring up the deal about the restaurant without appearing suspicious. I reach forward, taking the glass from him again, and take a bigger sip this time. The other stuff will work itself out when the timing is right. I need to relax and figure out a way out of the direction we’re currently headed. Or do I take the reins and lead him to water?
Tempting . . .
Our backs pressed to the headboard, our eyes ahead in the candlelit room. It’s hard to make out anything personal in the unfamiliar room, but there’s not much other than furniture. It’s not only a clean home, it’s barely lived in. There’s no life built in. The halls are barren of laughter. Forget about anyone else. Warner barely exists in the space other than his physical presence, which is currently taking up a lot more space as he spreads his legs a little wider. At this rate, I’ll only have a foot of space to exist.
I could always straddle him. He talks a big game, but can he walk it? “So . . .” I say, letting it hang in the air to see what he wants to add.
“I’ve been thinking . . .” He drops his own lingering start, but I’m much more curious how he’d finish it. He doesn’t.
Taking the glass, I ask, “About?” I sip and then sip again. The liquor burns, but the smoky, sweet aftertaste is quite nice.
“I’ve never had sex with a broken arm before.”
“Have you had sex with a concussion? Is that even safe? I can’t imagine the doctor would advise such an activity.”
“Do doctors ever advise having sex?”
“Sure.” I glance over at him. “I had one tell me it willhelp alleviate migraines.” I take a sip, remembering what happened next. That calls for another drink before handing it back. “And then he volunteered.”
“What the fuck?” He angles toward me, and says, “Delaney, please tell me he’s no longer your doctor.”
“He’s no longer my doctor.” I bounce my shoulders up and down once. “I discovered I was getting migraines from the incense my friend was always burning in her room when we would study there. So we stopped burning incense.”
“Juniper?”
A burst of laughter leaves my chest. “Yes. Juniper. My friend. The blonde you supposedly remember so well.” Good Lord, have mercy on me. This guy is exasperating. “Speaking of, it’s interesting you remember her . . .”Especially since she doesn’t exist.“But not me. Your wife.”
His gaze travels my legs that are tucked under the covers before he reaches over to slide his knuckles against my thigh. Even the blanket and sheet between us doesn’t stop my heart from quickening. “I’m sure there’s something we can do to trigger the memories to return. Don’t you think?”
