Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Griffin still didn’t call me.
I sat on the couch and stared at the front door, suspecting he was right outside. Maybe he was sitting in his truck at the curb the way he used to at my old apartment in Milan. As if I could feel his presence through the solid wall, I knew he was outside somewhere. He would never go home and leave me here.
I moved to the front door and looked out the peephole, suspecting I’d see his truck at the curb. But there was nothing to see.
The apartment was warm because a fire was burning, and the heater brought warmth to the living room, but I kept my sweater on because I was focused on keeping my son warm all the time. I opened the door, not sure what I expected to find.
Sitting outside in the middle of the freezing cold was Griffin. He was on the top step that led to the apartment, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and jeans. Vapor escaped his nostrils, but he didn’t shake despite the cold. He was immune to it, thriving in it just as he did the night we met. He didn’t turn around to look at me.
I leaned against the doorway. “Griffin.”
He brought his hands together and slowly rubbed his palms across one another. “I’m not gonna leave, so save it.” His deep voice was menacing, warning me he didn’t want to have an argument about this. He wasn’t going to leave me alone no matter how much I fought it, so I might as well save my energy as well as my time. “Be angry all you want. I won’t abandon my duty. I’ll sit out here all night because it’s where I belong—protecting you.” Like a watchdog, he stared out to the street where a single streetlamp stood. It was the only light visible between the two buildings.
My anger hadn’t diminished, but I wasn’t a psychopath who would leave my husband sitting outside when the temperatures were close to freezing. “Come in.” I left the door open and walked back inside. There was an extra blanket in the basket so I tossed it on the couch. I grabbed an extra pillow from the bedroom and returned to the living room to set it down.
Griffin stood in front of the fire, staring at the couch like he had no idea what it was. He looked at it for nearly a full minute before he lifted his gaze to look at me. “No.”
“Yes.” I turned around and headed down the hallway. “Good night.”
His heavy footsteps followed me instantly.
I turned around. “I’m serious.” I looked up into his handsome face, immune to his charm because I was still livid with him.
“I’m not sleeping on the couch.”
“You bet your ass, you are.” I gave him a glare full of warning before I stepped inside the bedroom.
He followed me anyway.
“Griffin!”
He stripped off his shirt then moved to his jeans, ignoring me.
“Fine. Then I’ll sleep on the couch.” I turned around to march off.
He grabbed me by both arms and yanked me into his chest, restraining me so I couldn’t go anywhere. “You married me. You promised yourself to me for the rest of your life. So for better or worse, we’re sleeping in the same fucking bed. Be pissed at me all you want. It’s not gonna change anything.”
“There you go again.” I twisted out of his grasp. “Bossing me around like you own me.”
His eyes narrowed. “I do own you.”
My hand was shaking because I wanted to slap him.
“And you own me.” He grabbed both of my wrists, probably because he knew I was about to strike him. “I need to be there for anything, baby. I need to take care of you and our son. I’m sleeping right beside you so I can wait on you hand and foot. Get over it.” He released me and walked back to the bed.
“And that’s it?” I asked incredulously. “You aren’t even going to apologize?”
He dropped the rest of his clothes, stripping down to his nakedness even though we wouldn’t be having sex tonight. He pulled back the sheets and got into bed. “I don’t apologize unless I mean it. So, no, don’t expect one.”
I actually growled under my breath because I was so pissed off. “Fuck you, Griffin.” I marched back down the hallway into the living room. I expected my husband to apologize to me for crossing the line and telling me to shut up. I expected some kind of remorse and a vow never to repeat those mistakes. But he was still behaving like an asshole, and it was the first time I genuinely didn’t want to be around him.
His footsteps sounded a moment later. “Get your ass in there.”
“Shut up,” I hissed. “Just leave me alone, Griffin. I’m serious.” I grabbed the pillow and blanket so I could get comfortable near the fire.