Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“It was around a month ago. You’d gone out for a run in that hideous sweater he was adamant you had to wear over your workout clothes. He extended the route on your running app so you’d be gone long enough for him to change your birth control pills.”
She looks torn between kissing me and strangling me.
Or perhaps she wants to kiss me and strangle her husband.
I much prefer the latter.
“I snuck inside in the middle of the night to change them back, and then I got blind fucking drunk.”
When the light finally switches on, Miranda has no trouble deciphering the facts. “Because you hated the thought that he still wanted me, which meant you couldn’t have me.” She smirks like she’s shocked I haven’t slotted the pieces together as quickly as she has. “When Roy told me the house across the street had been sold to an investor wanting to flip it when the market improved, I was devastated. I met your mother when she came to approve the remodel of the house her only son had purchased for her. She was so excited about the rebuild, so to hear it wasn’t going through, I grew worried something terrible had happened to her.” Her smile almost buckles my knees. “My devastation mimicked hers when I tracked her down in a brand-new condo a few streets over and she learned I was married. I hadn’t been wearing my wedding ring the day we met.”
As her eyes spark with love, she continues her story. “Apparently, I was exactly her son’s type, but there was no hope for us. She said he would never mow another man’s turf, no matter how untidy his yard, because she had raised him better than that.” Her expression is an odd mix of lusty and understanding. “What changed your mind?”
“It wasn’t a what. It was a who.” I step closer, hating the minute few feet between us. “His betrayal should have destroyed you. It should have broken your spirit.” Pride puffs out my chest. “It didn’t. Your cocoon was already cracked when you arrived at the hotel.” I cup her cheeks and drag my thumb over her lips. “He had finally lost you, so there was no reason I couldn’t help you find yourself again.”
“This isn’t a game of finders keepers, Nero.”
I scoff, confident as fuck that I’ll have her believing differently in a matter of minutes if forced to express myself with more than words.
“But even if it is, you were also married.”
“On paper. Not in my eyes or in the eyes of my mother. My divorce is close to being completed.”
“Close… but not finalized.” Her smarts exceed her beauty for half a second. “Why was the annulment denied?”
I’m lost as to where she is going with this and what the invoice she is clutching has to do with it, but I’m willing to play along if it keeps her wings fanned as wide as they are now.
“Even strung out and drunk, I was still smart enough to request a prenup. The infidelity clause of said prenup is why the annulment was denied. Tasha told the judge she would have proof that I’d cheated at our next mediation hearing, which is scheduled for some time next month.”
“Would have? Not had?”
I nod, still confused.
My bewilderment doubles when Miranda smiles at me like it is Christmas morning and I found her under my tree, wrapped in nothing but a bow, before she asks, “Where are you keeping them?”
“Them?” I ask, acting daft.
I’ve shared a lot of dark and demented shit with her the past few days, but I’ve kept Roy’s captivity on the down-low. I don’t want her learning that I am a complete fucking psycho before she’s fully under my spell.
I can’t pull the wool over her eyes, and in all honesty, I don’t want to.
“Our cheating spouses, Nero. Where are they?”
Against my better judgment, I nudge my head to the door. “Let me show you.” With her confidence too high to topple, I add, “We just need to make a quick detour first.”
19
MIRANDA
Soot, dust, and a smell I can’t quite recognize filter into my nose when I follow Nero into the basement of the house across the road from my home. I could blame it on the untouched onion rings sitting beside empty takeout containers on a black TV stand dinner tray, but the stain in the front of Roy’s pants won’t allow it.
He’s ruining what I’d hoped would become my favorite pair of skinny jeans with more than a voluptuous frame, and the situation worsens when anger isn’t the first thing to flash through his eyes when they land on me.
It isn’t even wordless begs for help.
It is a lusty glint a man as dominant and claiming as Nero will never sweep under the carpet.