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“You’re doing it right now.”

I take the box from her arms and stack it on top of mine.

“I can carry that.” She says with a defiant lilt in her voice.

“I know.”

“Then give it back.”

“No.”

She grabs for it but I lift it over my head.

Lila glares up at me. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Mrs. Miller!”

She turns as Ellie waves from across the street. I grin and Lila looks back at me.

“See? That. You look like a caveman who just discovered fire.”

“I like your name attached to mine.”

“You like irritating me.”

“I like that too.”

She walks ahead and I watch her ass for half a block.

Marriage has benefits.

Unfortunately, kissing my wife apparently isn’t one of them.

Not since the night of the storm.

Lila hasn’t mentioned it and neither have I.

But she watches my mouth more now. And she finds reasons to touch me, then acts like she didn’t.

Last night she fell asleep with her head on my chest.

This morning she called me bossy because I made her put on warmer socks.

We’re getting dangerously good at pretending this marriage isn’t fake.

“Are you coming?” she calls.

“Yeah.”

“Stop staring at my ass.”

“No.”

Her laugh follows me into the bar.

Wyatt’s already there when we arrive.

He takes one look at us and slides a twenty toward Ellie.