“Oh. Of course, sorry.” His eyes drift downward, and he sounds genuinely remorseful. He looks like I kicked his favorite pet or something. Does he really care that much about the idea of upsetting me? I shouldn’t like the thought of that so much.
“It’s fine, Princess,” I reassure him, using the nickname I initially called him in Vegas to point out how spoiled he is. But just as I expected, he perks up when I use it now. “You didn’t actually sit down; you don’t need to apologize.”
His shoulders relax at the confirmation that I’m not upset with him. “Okay, I’ll go shower! Feel free to join me.”
I shake my head as he disappears into the hall. He’s relentless.
After our separate showers, we end up in bed in the same position we started in last night, with me facing away from Chad. It doesn’t matter though, I’m painfully aware of how close we are, the space between us alive with tension. We’re both in just our underwear, and my cock is already half hard. My mind is spinning with excuses I could use to touch him and not have it mean anything long-term.
“Good night, Hubby,” he whispers, cheerful as ever, and that stupid H-word is the reminder I need to keep my hands to myself. Chad isn’t looking for meaningless sex, and that’s the only thing I’m capable of.
I sigh before offering the shortest reply I can come up with. “Night.”
Chad has been goneall day, and my house is blissfully silent.
Well, I guess I should say free of Chad’s never-endingcomments. The work I’ve been doing can get pretty loud. I blocked the week off from actual work in case Liam needed me for anything wedding related, but he and Blake are out running errands today.
No one has called with any electrical emergencies, so I’ve been working on my house. It’s a slow process, and today I finally finished removing the wallpaper in the living room. Parts of it were faded from years of sunlight, and others had been peeling, so it had to go.
I take a step back to admire the smooth walls, ignoring the boarded-up fireplace that’s kind of ruining the vision, but it hasn’t worked in probably twenty years, so I’ll deal with it as is.
I shove the last of the wallpaper into a trash bag as Chad’s voice rings throughout the house in greeting “Hi Hubby!” I don’t respond, rolling my eyes as he enters the room. At this point, he’s saying that word so often I’m starting to wonder who he’s trying to convince it’s real: me or himself. “Wow! Wasn’t there wallpaper in here before?” I nod, and his gaze shines with undeserved admiration. “You got rid of it all by yourself? That’s amazing. What’s next? Paint?”
I shrug. “I’d been planning to just replace everything. Similar wallpaper and carpet.”
He gasps like he’s horrified by the suggestion. “John, no, no, no. Hardwood floors are, like, way nicer than carpet. Why keep the walls the same when you can pick a paint or a newer style of wallpaper that you like? Don’t do all this work just for it to look the same.”
I stare numbly at the wall and swallow past the lump in my throat. I know he’s only asking an innocent question, and a very valid one at that—I was surprised to find the hardwood in such good condition—but I’m struggling to ignore the knot that’s formed in my stomach at the idea of changing anything too drastically in the house. Most of the rooms are in some sort of half-remodeled stage at this point. I’ve gotten rid of a lot of the thingsthat weren’t salvageable, but I haven’t gotten around to replacing them yet. Sure, everything is so damn expensive, but the cost isn’t the only reason I find myself hesitating every time I look at carpet samples or paint colors.
Before I can figure out how to answer him though, I’m distracted by what he’s holding. “Is that a cupcake?”
“Oh! Yes, and flowers. I got them for you!” he says, holding them out toward me with a huge smile on his face.
I squint down at my dirty clothes and back at him holding the bright dessert and bouquet of multicolored wildflowers. He’s so fucking random. Did he pick those flowers himself? Did he steal them from one of the neighbors? “Why in the world would you get me a cupcake or flowers? We’re not celebrating anything.”
He laughs. “You don’t need an excuse to enjoy something. Cupcakes are good, so I wanted to get you one. And aren’t the flowers pretty? Looking at them made me smile, and I hoped they’d make you smile too. I love your smile, John.” I’m sure my confusion is written all over my face because Chad laughs again. “Well, don’t look so horrified. I was just trying to do something nice for you. I actually have more planned too! We can save the cupcake for later.”
I don’t like the sound of “more.” He pulls something out of the back pocket of his jeans, and it takes me far longer than it should to realize he’s holding a silk tie.What the fuck?
“I was going to blindfold you so it could be a surprise, but now I’m thinking you might want to shower first?” he asks as if that’s the part he isn’t sure about and not the fucking blindfold.
“Chad. You’re not blindfolding me,” I tell him in a firm voice.
Been there, done that, and I have absolutely no desire to do it ever again. I’ve always bought into the idea that I should experience what it’s like to be on the receiving end of anything BDSM related I want to do to my sexual partners, so I don’t actually regret it, it’s just not something I’m willing to repeat.
His posture deflates at my turning him down. “But I wanted it to be a surprise; to be special.”
“You wantedwhatto be special?” I ask slowly, almost afraid to hear his answer.
He looks up at me hopefully, and damn him and those blue puppy dog eyes. I don’t know how he gets them to be so big. “I wanted to take you out to dinner. I found the nicest place in town, and I thought we could go and enjoy a meal together.”
I sigh. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I hate seeing him looking so disappointed, even if it’s only at the idea of not following through on whatever plans he’s made for the evening. And we need to eat. I haven’t made it to the grocery store since he got here.
“I do need to shower. Then we can go get dinner,” I reluctantly agree.
“Okay.” He lights up, holding out the tie again. “I’ll save this for when you’re back?—”
“No.” I cut him off firmly. “We can get dinner. But there’s no way in hell you’re blindfolding me.”
