Page 38 of Broken Vows

I lift the camera again, focusing through the lens. She reaches for her phone, her shoulders rising in a dramatic sigh as her eyes roll. Even in annoyance, she radiates. Talk of the wedding should jolt me into making Anna my top priority, but I can’t tear my attention away from Lexie.

Lexie: It’s after hours and I’m off the clock. Can it not wait until morning?

I watch as she chews her lips, her thumbs hovering over the screen. She starts typing, then stops, her fingers manically pressing what I assume is the delete button. She takes a long sip of her drink and then types again.

I glance down at my phone.

Lexie: Or is your highness incapable of waiting?

Her sense of humor is dangerous.

Theo: Impatient, maybe. Incapable? Never. But I’m starting to think you like making me wait.

She reads the message, and I see the corner of her mouth twitch, a smirk threatening to break free.

Lexie: Seeing as you’ve already taken up my time, what can I do for you?

Oh shit. What was I going to say?

Theo: This is an emergency. I need your advice on the color scheme. I’m thinking orange, green, and purple.

I look up into the camera just in time to see horror spread across her face.

Lexie: Okay… Can I ask where the inspiration came from?

Theo: Because I like it. Is that a problem?

Lexie: It’s a wedding, not a Halloween party.

I can’t help but grin.

Theo: So, you’re saying it’s a no?

Lexie: Unless you want a new wedding planner, then I’m vetoing this idea.

Theo: Fine. We’ll go with sage and cream. Boring, but acceptable.

Her shoulders relax as she reads the message and takes another sip of her drink.

Theo: But just so you know, if you keep bossing me around like this, I might have to find a way to remind you who’s really in charge.

Lexie goes still as she reads my message. I watch as she shifts in her seat and brings the glass to her reddening cheek.

My hand grazes my stiffening cock.

Lexie: Great to have a color scheme locked in. Have you run this by Annabelle? I’d like to send a confirmation email so we can get started on decorations, place settings, etc.

I haven’t even asked Anna, yet. Shit.

Theo: Yes. But please don’t message until the morning. She’s had a lot going on with her grandmother.

The three bubbles pop up and they stop. Wait, no. What’s happening? The dopamine high I’ve been riding from our messages drains away. Through the camera I see she’s lifted herself up from the couch and is at the door. When her hands unlock the deadbolt, my pulse drums against my chest. Who the hell is coming over at this time of night?

And then… fuck.

The person behind the door hands her a bouquet of flowers, bigger than half her body, and a box. She sets them on her desk and pulls open the card. When she reads it, her mouth widens into a smile.

I press the lens as close to the window as I can. She grabs a knife and slices open the box, and, dammit, I need a stronger camera.