Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Look, you usually say like four words at a time,” I say, my blood pressure rising. “And all of a sudden you’re Mr. Chatterbox.”
His chest shakes as he continues to chuckle.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love that you’re sharing things with me. Love that for us.” I cock my head to the side and point at him. “But if you’re going anywhere near where I think you were going, I need you to get back to the old Foxx and get to the point before I have a heart attack. Then you’ll have to paddle this thing all the way back alone and then carry me to the car—ugh.”
His smile stretches from ear to ear. “Are you going to say it back?”
“I don’t know,” I say, returning his smile. “I don’t know what you were going to say.”
“We don’t have a solid history of you actually repeating what I need to hear.”
“Ooh, I think that was worth the tussle.” I sit up straight, my stomach in knots. “Let’s give it a shot. You say it first, and I’ll repeat it.”
“But will you mean it?”
“I don’t say anything I don’t mean.”
His smile turns cheekier. His eyes darken. I know this look, and it’s not the one I want to see.
“Stop it,” I say.
“Yeah, I think we should wait and have this conversation later.” He pivots the kayak around to head back upstream. “I’d hate to have one of our disagreements on the open water.”
“First, this isn’t the open water. But, more importantly, our disagreement is going to be much, much worse if you make me wait to hear what you were going to say.”
He smirks. “It’ll be worth it, wife.”
I smirk right back. “Oh, you’re right. It will be, husband.”
CHAPTER 23
Bianca
I step back from the mirror and give myself a once-over. “Not bad, Mrs. Carmichael. Not bad.”
The sound of Mrs. Carmichael makes me giggle. But that’s what two glasses of wine, a hot bath, and a solid game plan on how to torture your husband will do to you.
Foxx said he needed to take a little time and make some calls. I think he was just trying to mess with me, but I assured him it was a great idea. I needed a bath and to make some calls myself. He couldn’t say no to that. He respects me and my work too much to get in the way. And I think he hoped I was making calls to walk away for good.
I made zero calls. But I did wash, scrub, and shave every inch of my body.
Astrid hit it out of the ballpark with the lingerie selection. The piece I chose is almost too pretty to wear—and I wouldn’t wear it at all if I didn’t know it would drive Foxx out of his mind.
Beautiful white embroidered lace that’s long and flowy. The goddess silhouette accentuates my waist. Long slits are cut from the embellishment nestled under my breasts, which appear fuller and heavier than usual, to the floor. I almost discarded the white thong but decided at the last minute to give the look a shred of modesty.
I laugh. “Modesty. Okay. Tell that to my nipples that may as well not be covered.”
Thanks to the hair powder Becca let me borrow for the honeymoon, my hair is voluminous. I created a smoky eye and added glossy pink lips. Let him think about those being wrapped around his cock.
Excitement ripples over me in waves. I’ve tried not to focus on the root of this production—that I think Foxx will tell me he loves me tonight. Instead, I’ve attempted to play it off like I’m going to make him beg.
And I might.
I open the door to the bathroom. Through the bedroom, I can see him sitting in the living room on the sofa.
“What are you doing?” I ask in my sweetest voice.
“Just figured out who is sending these fucking fox texts.”
“Really?” I walk through the room and come up behind him. “Who is it?”
He doesn’t turn around, just lifts his phone so I can read the screen.
Unknown: Taking a Paige out of the wild elephant handbook, foxes in London are domesticating themselves.
“Do you see it?” he asks.
I point at the misspelled word. Paige.
“It’s your sister?” I ask, laughing.
Foxx chuckles and opens a family chat titled No Girls Allowed. “She’ll live to regret this.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Just watch.”
Foxx: How are you liking the animal texts?
His phone dings in quick succession.
Maddox: HATE THEM.
Banks:
Moss: I’m contemplating getting a new number. They won’t stop.
Jess: Mine have slowed down. I started texting the nastiest shit to them.
Foxx’s fingers fly over the screen.
Foxx: It’s your sister.
He silences his notifications. But he doesn’t put his phone down. Immediately, notifications pop on the screen silently.
Foxx laughs as a new chat is created titled HOLLIS, COME GET YOUR SISTER and he’s added to it.