Page 88 of Married With Lies

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Page 88 of Married With Lies

“It wasn’t at first.” I start toying with the huge diamond ring that’s on my finger for today because Cale isn’t the only one who is on his way to Colorado. His uncle, his aunt and a bevy of mobsters are showing up too. For the next few days, Cale and I will need to act extremely married. Wearing the ring is no chore. In fact, I enjoy wearing it the correct way instead of on a chain that’s hidden inside my shirt. Lately that’s what I’ve been doing more and more, like wearing the ring for everyone to see is a constant reminder of my connection to Cale.

“Lately you’ve been wearing your ring more and more,” says Gus the mind reader.

“How did you do that?” I ask. “I was literally just thinking those exact words.”

She shrugs. “Your face is an open book.”

Such a horrifying revelation. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? Now I’m paranoid that my feelings for Cale are going to be super obvious.”

“Oh, they totally are. For weeks you’ve been stumbling around in a lovestruck daze. I was just stunned to hear you admit it out loud.”

“Hold on. I’m putting on a game face.” I take a deep breath and try to summon an infusion of serenity. “How’s this?”

She surveys with me a doubtful expression. “Now you look like you have a mouthful of sour gummy worms. Besides, why do you need a game face at all? You said you were going to tell him that you’re in love with him.”

“Well, I can’t just throw myself at him the minute he rolls up. Or can I? What would you do?”

Gus mulls this over. “I think I’d avoid falling for a cryptic fake husband who tends to collect bullet holes.”

“Ouch. That’s not very supportive.”

She winces. “Sorry. I’m just worried about you, cupcake. Cale lives all the way in New York. What would a real relationship look like?”

“I’m still working on the part where I throw myself at him. The idea is making me a little lightheaded.” I lean over to check the time on the nightstand alarm clock that’s shaped like an owl. Cale texted when he landed at the small Durango airport half an hour ago. “He should be here any minute. Are you sticking around to offer moral support?”

“Wish I could, but Mrs. Mancuso’s Great Dane took a nail through the paw so I promised I’d make a house call.”

“I need you to do something before you go. I don’t trust the mirror.” I stand up and twirl in front of her. “Deodorant stain and bra strap check.”

She scrutinizes my dress. “Perfect.”

I smooth my hands over the flared skirt. “Do I really look okay? I need you to be brutally honest.”

“You look scrumptious.” She leans in for a hug. “Make him beg for it.”

It’s inconceivable that Cale Connelly would ever beg for anything but the concept is very entertaining.

Zeus and Apollo are curled up together on the braided throw rug made by Peggy. They lift their heads for pats from Gus as she leaves.

Once she’s gone, I take a critical look in the long mirror hanging on the closet door. The vintage-style cut of the dress, with a wide skirt and snug bodice, suits the shape of my body. And it’s green, which reminds me of Cale’s green eyes.

But maybe the dress is too green.

Set against my red hair I might look Christmas-ish. Or worse, like a leprechaun. Who wants to be seduced by a leprechaun? Nobody. Definitely not Cale.

I’m still tossing around the idea of changing to something less vibrant when my phone buzzes and I practically dive over to my bed to retrieve it. The text is from Cale. He’s five minutes out.

There I go, getting all tingly again. I kneel down in front of Zeus and Apollo.

“Boys, wish your mama luck.”

The best they can do is gaze at me with wet, sleepy eyes. Zeus yawns. I kiss their heads, grab my rolling suitcase and decide to forego my boots in favor of low-heeled black pumps. As I shove them on my feet I remember the last time I wore them was on Christmas Eve. The night Cale Connelly asked me to make a deal with him.

That was seven months ago. Not a long time. It just feels that way because my heart has gone through such an evolution. That night I was a little afraid of him, which seems funny now. The man who will comfort me during a thunderstorm and takes care of me when I’m sick and scours Manhattan bookstores to fulfill my romance title wish list isn’t a man to fear. He’s the man of my dreams.

True, he lives a couple of thousand miles away. And he works for a mafia king who also happens to be his uncle. And we made a secret marriage pact that his mafia king uncle can’t find out about.

Set all that aside, and he’s just Cale. He rescues dogs from local bullies. He loves his brother. He knows how to make me feel special.




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