“Had. I didn’t renew for a fourth season.”
“Youhada TV show? Why didn’t I know that?”
“I thought you did.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I figured you’d Googled me. Remember?” He winks.
Pete watches our odd and enlightening exchange and it’s uncomfortable. Why does he have to be here?
“I was joking when I talked about your flock of women. I didn’t actually. Ugh.” I throw my hands up. “I figured there’d be a fan page or twelve, but a wholeshow?”
Sam emits a hearty laugh, and Paige snickers like she’s in on this. My ex continues to stare, his features impassive, but he’s keenly interested.
“My flock of women?”
“Have you looked in the mirror?” I lob at him, my tone clipped, now feeling irritated more than anything else, and I’m not sure if it’s discovering his stardom or that my daughter knew when I didn’t.
My cheeks burn.
It also doesn’t help having my ex-husband and temperamental daughter watching us like we’re the hottest show on Netflix. Sam’s grin disappears, his face still mellow and now tender as he stands taller. With two short strides, he’s at my side. His arm slips around my waist, drawing me into his side.
He leans in, voice low enough that only I can hear. “You’re the only woman I want flocking to me.” Then, with another wink, he presses a soft kiss just behind my ear.
Then it clicks.
Cabbage.
His tattoo.
I so want to know what it all means.
Paige lets out a dramatic, “Ew,” before storming upstairs, and Pete mutters something under his breath that sounds like a growl.
Sam instantly steps back, muttering an apology as both Pete and I call to Paige, but she’s gone, thumping up the stairs.
“Liv.” Pete’s tone is stern. “May I have a word with you?” He flicks his hand over his shoulder toward the front yard. It’s not a question, even though he phrases it as one.
Shit, I am so not in the mood for this, for Pete and his lecture. Not now. Nodding, I briefly peer at Sam, who looks gravely contrite as he mouths, “Sorry.”
Outside on my walkway, Pete unexpectedly pivots to face me. His hands clamp down on my shoulders, halting my potential crash into him.
“Liv, what the hell?”
“Excuse me?” I rear back, shaking off his embrace.
“Who is that kid?”
“Pete, it’s none of your business. I don’t owe you an explanation, but Sam is a friend.”
“A friend? Since when do your friends make inappropriate PDA in front of your husband and daughter?” His anger is clear in his furious eyes, clenched hands, and impenetrable posture.
“Ex-husband. You keep forgetting that part,” I bite out. “And for the record,youshowing up unannounced isn’t exactly ideal, either.”
He takes one step toward me, his eyes shifting downward to my lips. A long-forgotten lust clouds his gaze and his breath quickens. So help me, if he tries to kiss me, he’ll lose his balls. Fisting my hands, I widen my stance.
“Liv, don’t do this. Forget this nonsense. I don’t fucking care what a piece of paper says, you’ll always be my wife. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t care what’s happened or who you’ve been with. I want you back.” His tone is heavy and exacting.
“Pete, stop. We’ve been through this before. We’re over.”
“I’m not giving up. I will get you back.”
