Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Dabbing a little makeup on, I don’t overdo it, but I do add some color back into my face. Exhaustion has zapped more than my energy and installed dark circles. Nothing a good concealer can’t cover. After adding gloss to my lips, I toss it all in with my clothes.
Last order of business—tuck the newly broken phone into the base of the suitcase. Once that’s done, I seal her up.
Trying to exit without a scene will be an interesting task. I know as soon as my mom sees the suitcase, I’m going to be given a hard time again. But as luck would have it, she’s standing at the bay window on a call. I hug her from behind and kiss her shoulder. “I’ll be back in a few days. Text if you need me.”
Whispering, she says, “Take a cookie.” She nods, but I can tell she’s pulled back into the phone conversation. “Mom, I said I’ll come out next Friday . . .”
I grab a cookie and the case on my way out. As soon as the door closes, I breathe easier. I don’t know why. I’m leaving the safety of my home to re-enter the lion’s den. Shoving the cookie in my mouth, I think, Lord help me.
It’s a quick subway ride down to Tribeca. Not enough time to talk myself out of following through with this plan. Fully commit, I remind myself as I walk down two blocks to his building. Just before I reach the door, I stop and slip the ring on again. I wiggle my finger, admiring it before looking up to see Baker already holding the door open for me. “Showtime,” I whisper under my breath.
“Need help with the case, Msss . . .?”
“Landers. And I got it. Thank you.”
I don’t hang around to spot his reaction. It will make me too nervous, so I keep walking like I live here and enter the elevator. Punching the button for the penthouse isn’t something I ever thought I’d be doing. If I’m busted, this might be the only time, so I savor the thrill it brings.
When I reach his door, I check the time. I’ve been gone for hours. What am I walking into? His anger again? His frustration? Irritation with me? Only one way to find out.
I steel my nerves and knock loudly. Annoyingly loud.
CHAPTER 10
Warner
Relief washes through me the moment I lay eyes on Delaney again. Another emotion takes over when my gaze dips to the suitcase set at her side. Annoyance? Exasperation? Irritation? A combination of all three, I believe. “Moving in?”
She walks past me, leaving the suitcase behind. I assume for me to retrieve. “Back in.”
“Moving back in?” I laugh like she made a joke when I know damn well she didn’t. She’s as serious as the concussion I have.
“Yes,” she calls from the other end of the hall before rounding the corner to the bedrooms.
I grab the suitcase with my good hand because that’s what I now have—one good hand and one bad—and lock the door. Trailing in her path, I remark, “Back in because you supposedly moved out two days ago,” I say it more for myself like I might believe the words if said out loud.
I didn’t even know if she was coming back. She’s back alright. Back to spin me into her tangled web again. I would say of lies, but there’s still that minutest chance that she’s telling the truth. If she is, I’ll be the fool for not knowing my own wife from a stranger on the street. But if my gut instincts are proven correct, there will be hell to pay.
When I reach the spare bedroom, I flick on the light, wondering why she’s standing in the dark. “Delaney?”
“In here,” she calls from my bedroom. Her tone is way too comfortable for someone who’s knowingly invading my space. Again.
I set the suitcase down before marching down the hall to my bedroom. “You’re not staying in here,” I say as soon as I see her curled up on the bed.
Flopping her arms wide, she rolls onto her back. “I must stay in here. I’ve missed this bed so much.” The bed, not me. Noted.
“You’re not staying here.” Thumbing over my shoulder, I glare at her. “The bed in the other room is already made up for guests.”
She props herself up onto her elbows, those blue eyes shining with the devil inside. “I’m not a guest, dear husband. I’m your wife. If you’d be more comfortable with us sleeping in separate rooms, then the guest room bed is all made up for you to enjoy.”
“Listen, Delaney—”
“Oh geez,” she huffs, falling flat on her back again. Only her eyes pivot toward me. “Do we have to do this? It’s not like sleeping together killed you.”
“It almost did when I saw that bagel in the bed.”