"For one, it irritates you, and I've found I'm partial to irritating you."
"Thanks for that," I say dryly. "What's your second reason?"
He takes a deep drink of his water, ice gathering as he nearly finishes it. His Adam's apple bobs when he swallows. Then heturns to me, and now I'm looking into unfairly blue eyes. Dark like denim in this warm-lit restaurant. "That is for me to know."
My gaze narrows. For the life of me, I cannot understand this man. He said all those awful things about me, but now he's voluntarily throwing us together for three weeks? We need to get to the bottom of all this, and I'm done waiting for the right time and place. If the past five days are any indication, it's never going to arrive. So, here we go. "Why go to the trouble when I'm annoying, and I have the worst laugh, and I yammer on and on? Don't you want to pull a Van Gogh and cut off your ear?"
Dominic's eyebrows tug together so quickly it's like they were threaded and cinched. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't even think about gaslighting me," I warn, pointer finger suspended between us. "I heard you on the phone in the hall at Obstinate Daughter."
The tip of his tongue pokes at the corner of his mouth while he pretends to work through everything I've said.
Across from us, Paisley and Klein discuss wedding details. They are either truly in their own world, or giving us space to hash out this long-standing grudge.
"Cecily," Dom says through clenched teeth. "I am going to need you to walk me through it all like I'm an idiot. Because I truly, from the bottom of my heart, do not understand."
To his credit, he looks genuine. Could he really fake the confusion? The discomposure?
I huff an aggrieved sigh. "I came to find you, to ask if you wanted another drink. You were in the hall, and I overheard your phone conversation. I didn't make all that up, Dominic. You said those things about me."
Dom spends a few seconds quiet, letting what I've said sink in. Then he laughs.
My stomach muscles clench. "In case you're wondering, this is exactly how you earned the nickname I gave you."
"I'm not laughing because this is funny, Cecily. I'm laughing because it's preposterous."
Then Dominic Bellinger, my husband for the next month unless I can get him to stop being enamored with irritating me, nudges my knee with his. Twice.
"Stop," I snap.
"Please get up."
"Why?"
"Because I saidplease."
"You don't get what you want because you say please.Cecily, run over that group of baby ducks, please."
"Brood." He nudges me again, harder this time.
"Huh?"
"A group of baby ducks is called a brood. Now, please get up." He says it through tight lips. Is he going to be sick?
I hustle up, lest I become a human barf bag. Dominic stands, looks down at our confused dinner mates, and announces, "We'll be back. Maybe."
Before I can say another word, he threads his fingers through mine and marches me out of the restaurant.
CHAPTER 18
Cecily
"What the hell, Dominic?"I yank my arm away.
We come to a stop in the parking lot beside my car. The last rays of the sun filter through towering palm trees lining a nearby children's splash pad, sending odd-shaped shadows across our faces.
Dominic clears his throat. "I think I know what happened."
