Kidding. There’s no alarm. I’ve been meaning to have one installed though, so keep that in mind for future home invasions.
I heave a sigh of relief, but my cheeks heat. I was duped.
I type out a cheeky response.
Well, the house is still technically half mine.
Not for long, though,I think. As soon as I hit send, I regret it. The last thing I want is for Jett to think I bamboozled my way into this marriage to take half his money. Before I have the chance to type out another message, he’s already replied.
Take me for everything I’m worth, wife.
I stare at the words on the screen, and the pet name he gave me when we first got married. At first it seemed like a silly inside joke, only the two of us knowing that my title wasn’t real. But now… I think he likes being able to call me wife. And I’m sure as hell going to miss hearing it.
I’m no gold digger. I never wanted you for your money.
No, you just wanted to get in my pants.
I smile to myself, because although that wasn’t my primary motivation for marrying Jett, it was a nice perk. Pressure builds between my thighs, and it’s difficult to ignore. I think about calling him, because I think I just need to hear his voice.
As if he can read my mind, my phone starts ringing.
“Don’t you need to be sleeping?” I ask when I answer, my smile evident in my tone, even though there’s a twinge of sadness lurking underneath that he’s not here with me.
“Can’t,” he answers plainly, and maybe I’m imagining itbut there’s a similar sadness in his voice too. “I’ve been too worried about the intruders in my house.”
“Sorry about that,” I say. “Cordelia just wouldn’t settle at the apartment. She was being such a pest. The only time she seemed happy was when I was wearing your t-shirt.”
“You were wearing my t-shirt?” He asks, his voice perking up.
“I was,” I answer, looking down at my outfit. The worn-in, too-big cotton t-shirt that drapes off my frame. The one that smells like him. “I am.”
“I’ve never let a woman wear my clothes before,” he points out. “Isn’t there a saying, wear the t-shirt, ride the skier?”
I let out a soft puff of air through my nose. “I think you’re thinking about cowboys and their hats.”
“Right. That’s something Beck always says,” Jett laughs. “I think I’m going to steal it.”
I flop down on the couch and pull the faux fur blanket over my legs. “I’ll have to watch my back then, Cordelia will get jealous.”
“How is she? More settled now?”
“She is. She’s getting fur all over your pillow as we speak,” I answer. I expect Jett to complain about it, but he doesn’t.
“What about you?” He asks. “How are things at the café?”
“Good, really good. The town council isn’t going to make me give it up. I guess they didn’t care whether the relationship was real, so long as the documents were legal,” I explain, though my insides twist because the relationship was real, at least for me.
Jett lets out an audible breath on the other end of the line.
“That’s amazing, Pops. You belong there,” he says.
I belong with you,I think, placing a hand over my left breast to ease the painful ache that has been there for the last few days.
“I’m relieved, that’s for sure.” I switch the phone to my other hand and stretch out my wrist by flexing it back and forth. “But my arthritis has been acting up since I’ve been back to working more. My wrists have been aching from carrying milk jugs, and my hips aren’t much better from all the standing.”
“Are you okay?” Jett’s tone has shifted, worry lacing every word and a hint of desperation, almost like he’s debating getting on the next flight back from Switzerland just like he did the last time he went to an out-of-town competition without me.
“I’m okay,” I say, but I can tell by the silence that he isn’t convinced. “I promise. You have more important things to worry about.”
