Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 124971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“So why did she stay married to him?” I demanded.
“Didn’t you just say Presence is nine, soon to be ten?” He quirked a knowing eyebrow. “Do the math, Poppins.”
“Stop calling me Poppins.”
“Stop sounding like her.”
That made me shut up for a second while I digested the information.
Gretchen was pregnant when she got married to Jason. That made sense. Gretchen was the kind of woman to tick marriage and kids off her to-do list and move on to her next conquest. And by this stage—ten years ago—she was more concerned with not losing her position at the network than working on her marriage.
“And when did you enter the picture?” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“About four years ago.” Riggs adjusted the leather strap of his messenger bag over his shoulder. “We were both covering the Olympics in Greece.”
“Who hit on who?”
“Does it matter?”
“You know bloody well it does.”
“The attraction was there from both sides,” he said diplomatically.
“Who made the first move?” I insisted, filled with fresh rage toward Gretchen for hitting on my fake fiancé.
“Me,” Riggs said carelessly. Unconvincingly. “What can I say? All that cardio made me want to have a workout myself.”
I didn’t believe him. He was covering for Gretchen. I couldn’t figure him out. He had the thoughtless, hedonistic air of a villain and the moral code of a hero.
“Do you love her?” I narrowed my eyes, drowning in those ocean-hued marbles of his.
He threw his head back and laughed heartily. “Love is not an emotion I’m capable of, so don’t worry about your future husband pining after another.”
The train arrived at the platform, and Riggs and I both slipped inside. Since it was crowded with rush hour folks, we had to squish together against a plastic partition, with Riggs towering over me. His chest was flush against mine. He smelled outdoorsy and fresh.
“Even if Jason and Gretchen aren’t ‘legit,’” I said, air-quoting the word as I grabbed one of the straps, “what you two are doing is immoral.”
“Why?” Riggs spoke to the crown of my head, his warm cinnamon breath fanning my hair. “What kind of double standard is that? Men are expected to be forgiven and excused for cheating on women all the time, while women have to take the moral highway. Is this the deal you want to take?”
My face twisted in revulsion. “Just because Jason is an arsehole—”
“Doesn’t mean Gretchen should be one too?” Riggs finished for me, arching an eyebrow. “She responded to his indiscretions in kind. An eye for an eye, an orgasm for an orgasm.”
“Quite sure that’s not how they phrase it in the Bible.”
“Did you read the new edition?” he challenged, a teasing smirk gracing his mouth. “Much more explicit. I highly recommend.”
I don’t care about Jason, you wanker. But I’d love it if you could stop screwing my office bully.
Swallowing hard, I changed the subject. “This is not the way to Brooklyn.”
“Huh?” he asked, his attention already drifting to the phone in his hand.
“You said you’re heading to Brooklyn. You should get off and take the A or C line.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He reached over to tuck a wisp of hair behind my ear. My breath hitched. It was the first time he’d touched me intentionally. Thankfully, I didn’t crumble into rubbles of hormones. “Brooklyn was never in my plans tonight.”
“So why did you lie?”
“Because Gretchen wasn’t either.”
I masked my relief with a headshake. “It is unlike you to pass on an opportunity to have sex.”
He frowned. “Who said I’m passing on sex? My friend Ingrid is in town from Denmark.”
It felt like he’d stabbed my chest with an icicle. Must’ve been my longing for BJ. Which reminded me—perhaps I was foolish to sit around and wait for him. It would be a good idea to start exploring other opportunities.
I patted Riggs’s chest with a salacious smile. “Good for you, my primal, basic fiancé.”
“Uh-huh. She’s sarcastic now.” He smirked again. At least one of us found our banter pleasurable. “What did I do now to upset your delicate notions?”
“You couldn’t upset me if you tried,” I lied.
“Spit it out, Poppins.”
“You haven’t even given me an engagement ring.”
Madame, what are you on about, and who gave you the authority to say such a thing? I already knew I wasn’t in full control of my motor mouth when he was around, but this was scandalous.
“A fake engagement ring?” He tucked his finger into the loop of his belt.
“Obviously.”
I had officially lost my mind. I very much doubted it was on the same continent as me at this point.
“What do you need a ring for?” His tone was nonchalant, but he gave me that look again, like he was worried for my sanity. That made both of us.
“To authenticate our engagement, of course, why else?” I rolled my eyes. “A diamond ring is the blue checkmark of nuptials. It is utterly unskippable.”