Well, shit. Sufficiently humbled by that little nugget of truth, I press my forehead to Mira’s and try to show I hear her. “I’m sorry, baby. Really, I am. I was just trying to do something nice for you and got excited by the prospect of being able to spoil you and take care of you.” Guilt spears through me as I realize this isn’t the first time I’ve taken her choice away, and it makes me feel like a huge piece of shit. “I’m an asshole.”
She laughs at that. A full, head-thrown-back, chest-shaking laugh that reverberates off the concrete walls of the parking garage until it sounds like there’s at least five people cracking up. “You’re not an asshole, Griffin. A little high-handed maybe, but not an asshole.” She leans forward and presses a warm, slow kiss to the scruff of my jaw. “Now let’s go. I’m hungry.”
God, this woman. I’m so fucking gone for her. “All right, baby. Let’s go order something and have it delivered.”
Mira looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Uh, no, we’re not having something delivered.” She presses a button on her new car key and the trunk pops open. “Throw your gear in. I want to take Princess Buttercup for a spin.” She turns around, rips the massive bow off the car, and shoves it in the trunk.
“Princess Buttercup? What is it with you and ‘80s movies?”
She offers me a blinding smile as I stow my gear, slam the trunk, and make my way to the passenger side. “Our mom made us watch all of them. She’d pop popcorn, give us sodas, which were a rare treat, and buy candy from the store. She’d sit in between Maddox and me, and we’d all snuggle up together.” Her smile grows wistful and her eyes take on a faraway quality that tells me she’s reliving those memories. “They were some of my favorite nights.”
“Makes sense to me, sunshine.”
Her eyes flash with mischief and all of that wistfulness melts away into something louder. “Get in and hold on to your ass. Let’s see what Princess Buttercup can do.”
I don’t know whether I should be scared or amused. Doesn’t really matter. My wife is happy and, more importantly, she’s finally giving in to this thing between us.
I’m seeing this through to the finish line.
twenty-four
MIRA
“So,”I say as I pull my new car out of the parking garage and turn onto the street. It rides like a dream, and even though I want to stay mad at Griffin, it’s proving more difficult each block I drive without my car shaking or making unsettling noises. “You’ve been dressing a little differently lately.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Griffin shrug. When he’s not dressing for a game day, Griffin’s usually pretty casual. Jeans, athletic gear, tees, flannels, and sneakers are his go-to wardrobe. But not lately. Lately, he’s been wearing a lot of khakis and polos and brown leather loafers. Essentially, he looks as though he’s ready to go to the country club, and it’s weirding me out. Not that I’ve ever been to a country club, but I imagine all the stuffy rich guys dress like this.
“Oh, d’you like it?” He runs a hand down the front of his navy polo. He looks handsome—he always does—but something about it just isn’thim. It’s like he’s wearing a costume for a role I don’t understand.
“Uh, yeah, it’s nice. It’s definitely a change.”
When Griffin glances at me, my stomach does a little flip at the look in his eyes. It’s a strange cocktail of hope, worry, and insecurity? “I’ve decided it’s time to be more serious and responsible. No more fuckboy shit, you know?”
My heart squeezes. Oh, Griffin. He really took that night at dinner to heart. I knew he had, but since he hadn’t brought it up again, I assumed he was over it. I can see now that he isn’t. “Griffin, you are serious and responsible. You don’t have to change how you dress.”
My accidental husband shifts in his seat and stares out the window. “You don’t have to pacify me, sunshine. I know how people see me. If I want them to see me as smart or serious or responsible, I have to change, and updating my wardrobe is the easiest place to start.” When he glances at me, I make a decision to change our lunch destination.
“Griffy, you don’t need to change for anyone. Not the way you dress or the way you act. The people in your life love you for who you are. You’re funny, intelligent, loyal, insightful, and you’re always there for everyone. You see the best in people, and you refuse to let them do stupid things because they’re scared or being shortsighted. My brother and Isla wouldn’t be engaged right now if it wasn’t for you.” Reaching across the center armrest, I grab Griffin’s hand and intertwine our fingers. “People see all that. They see that you’re a leader. That you’re selfless.”
When he scoffs, it hurts my heart. “If that was true, why would your brother want to set you up with some complete stranger and not me?”
Ah. So that’s what this is all about. I should have realized after Lexi mentioned my brother’s plans that Griffin had been there to hear them. My stupid, overbearing brother. “Babe, you’re his best friend. You know he loves you, right? I’m surehe didn’t think of you because, in his mind, you’re his teammate and best friend. I’m just his annoying little sister.”
Wide hazel eyes sparkle, and Griffin’s lips turn up in a dazzling smile. “Babe?”
I shrug. Calling him babe wasn’t a conscious decision, but I can’t deny how right it feels. Nothing about this relationship has been conventional, but I can’t lie and say it’s not starting to feel… right. Inevitable, even. “What? I can’t call my husbandbabe?”
The husband in question sucks in a sharp breath. “What did you say?”
“Um, I said shouldn’t I be able to call my husband babe? Are you okay?” I glance at him as I pull into the parking lot of the arcade-slash-restaurant I decided would be the perfect place to go to help Griffin have fun and let go of thisI have to be seriousshit. He stares at me as I park, and as soon as I’ve turned the car off, he acts.
Lunging forward, Griffin grabs hold of my face with a ferocious tenderness that turns my insides into Jell-O and makes my cheeks heat. His hazel eyes search mine as his tongue sweeps over his lower lip.
“Griffin?”
His voice is rough when he speaks. “You called me your husband.”
Oh.Oh.
