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)
This time, the pause is on his end. My heart rate picks up as I wait silently, impatient for his reply.
He says, “As in active?”
I sit forward. “Yes.”
“Did you get married and not tell me?”
I stare at the phone as if I were staring at Delaney. Confused. Deceived. Conned. Stupid. I swallow down the last speck of pride I was holding on to and say, “Thank you, Richard. That’s all I needed to know.”
“Okay. Anytime. Have a good one.”
“You, too,” I mumble, standing and walking to the window. I used to love this view, but I’d grown tired of it more recently, tired of everything in my life. It’s been gray buildings and little sunshine since I moved into my father’s office.
It’s gone dark outside, but I finally see the light.
I don’t know who this Delaney Landers is or why she’s pretending to be my wife, but it’s time to flip the script and find out the truth.
I turn off the light and head back out. There are so many ways to handle this, but one thing keeps playing on repeat in my head. Let the games begin . . .
CHAPTER 12
Delaney
Warner lying on the street.
A crowd gathering and blocking my view.
The shock of watching a car hit him like he wasn’t a human.
The guilt. The debate. The disappointment. The race to save him.
The memory plays out like a movie in my head, causing my hands to shake. The panic I felt, the concern, the weight of prayers I laid on that man in hopes of his survival wash through me like a tidal wave.
As memories spiral, a shiver runs down my spine. Cool air hits my neck moments before I come back to the present. Someone is touching me. My hair is stroked to the side just as lips find my neck, and I shriek.
“Hey—Argh!” My elbow is still attached to his gut when I realize it’s Warner. “I think I’m going to puke.” He’s bent over heaving with his broken arm held against his stomach. “Fuck, Delaney. You punched the air out of my lungs. I can’t breathe.”
“Sounds like you’re doing just fine by all the yapping.” I pat him on the back and leave my hand there. “Anyway, I don’t know what world you live in, but don’t sneak up behind a woman on the streets of New York and accost her.”
He straightens up as much as he can, which still leaves him slightly hunched forward. “I wasn’t sneaking up.”
Moving in front of him, I look him over just in case I really did some damage. Other than him being red in the face, whether from the blow or his anger, I think he’s good. “Well, whatever you thought was a good idea wasn’t. Good news, though, you’re going to live, Warner. As long as you don’t try that again.”
“I was kissing my wife,” he groans. “Trust me, I won’t make that mistake again.”
The words run through my veins like the smoothest of wines in the Italian countryside, warm like a cozy fire after coming home from a wintry day, or the softest sheets wrapped around me while sleeping in Warner’s bed.
“Delaney, hello?” He waves his big paw in front of my face. “Delaney? You still with us?”
“No, I slipped away,” I snark, and turn from him, too afraid to meet his eyes and have the bubble burst, leaving me back in a reality of lies. I much prefer this version. Under this guise, it’s more idyllic and less venomous. I turn back to see if the world has come to an end or if we’re still in the middle of a sham. The warmth of his eyes holds less ire and more . . . consideration? “Humanity looks good on you, Landers.”
Damn it. I even find the line between his furrowed brows attractive. I must be coming down with something. All this just because he called me his wife?
I knew this plan was ridiculous and most likely wouldn’t work, but I didn’t think I’d react as ludicrously to him. He’s a man. A guy. That’s it. Who cares if the soulful blue of his eyes lures me in every time he stares at me like he wants to either kiss me or kill me? It might be both. Either way, he looks good.
And I’m not going to even mention those hands of his as I stare at them now. Big, ready to hold more than a handful of my smallish frame. I could perch like a parrot from that palm of his and be perfectly content.
“What are we talking about?” His voice throws a wrench in the cog of my thoughts. “Delaney?” He snaps his fingers in front of him, the sound pulling my attention back to him. “Disappeared again? Am I going to have to tie you down?”