When had the stars gone out of her eyes? Every other little spat or sexy little argument, she might rip me a new one, but our chemistry and passion was so intense that it hadn’t taken too long to make up with her. She was always all softness and sweetness when it came to me.
And maybe—clearly—I had taken it for granted that she’d always be that way.
But suddenly, I wasn’t sure.I wasn’t sure of her at all.
A woman who would get anally pleasured by a Frenchman at 6 pm in a pool chair on a Wednesday was not tobe underestimated, and the sight of her beautiful pucker swallowing up some other man’s dickhauntedme.
Was it possible she wasseriousabout possibly never forgiving me?
The thought was horrible as hell and I could not accept it. Could not accept that it was actually over.
How had I taken such a perfect woman for granted?
Because I absolutely had.
And now, I was going to have to step it up if I wanted to win her back.
Because I realized with a horrible shudder that thiswasn’t guaranteed at all.
I had never in my damn life been jealous of another man.
But I was jealous of every single moment Pierre had spent with her. Every single moan he got that should have beenmine.
Fuck fuck fuck
I called for my driver and told him the location of the pizza place. The ease with which she’d moved on made me nervous. Was I really soreplaceableto her?
When we arrived, I hung back near the door, trying to decide on my strategy. What did I have besides begging and pleading?
Because, despite what I had told her, about how I had never groveled in my goddamn life, the begging was coming extremely easily to me.
I had hope that the papers I brought would change her mind, but what if they didn’t?
I did not want to lose Birdie. Could not lose Birdie.Let the only woman for me walk away because I had fucked up? Never.
The first thing I would have to do is get her alone, because I could not properly plead my case with Lulabel knitting in my face or Mortimer biting me.
Forcing my brain to be agile, I slipped $5000 to a waitress in her mid-50s that looked to be Lulabel’s type and told her there’dbe more if she could get Lulabel away from the booth for a few minutes.
When she was successful with the promise of sharing a new peach pie recipe, I tapped one of the customers on the shoulder and offered another $5000 if they could pretend to choke on some food so Percy would rush over to help. I knew he’d then sit down and discourse on the virtues of taking tiny bites.
After my eldest rushed off, adjusting his spectacles, I slid out of the entryway and down in the aisle, arousal growing with each step as I watched Birdie put her plush pink lips around a plastic straw and suck.
Chapter eight
Birdie
Iwas enjoying a crispy Coke when Forrest Davies-Jones appeared, slipping onto the bench across from me without waiting for permission, like the snake he was. Then he slapped a stack of paper down on the table.
“What is this—” I began, when he suddenly took the whole bundle in his hands and began to tear it into little pieces.
“The prenup,” he said. “I’m destroying it.”
I stared blankly at the papers as he ripped them up viciously. His blue eyes were gleaming at me.
“You’re littering.”
“No more prenup. I was wrong toeverask you to sign one. I want you for the rest of my life, period.”
