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“Well, since we’re married, we need pet names for each other.” As if to add insult to injury, she leaned in, one hand on my chest, the other on my arm, rose onto her tiptoes and kissed my lips.That was when I gathered the first whiff of whatever perfume she’d selected.

Floral, but light with a hint of vanilla and cinnamon.

My skin would be tainted with the stuff before the end of the day. “Where the fuck did you get that perfume?” I snarled, shocking her.

“Jesus. It’s my favorite perfume. Not expensive. I didn’t think you’d mind.” She recoiled enough I almost felt guilty from my reaction.

Almost.

“Fine. Whatever. Have it your way.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, her tone dripped of contempt as she squeezed my arm, moving away.

I spun on my heel, heading to the register, already reaching for my wallet.

“Grace, the clothes are fabulous. Thank you for all your help.”

They were on a first-name basis. Great.

“I’m glad you found a few things, Corabelle. I hope you two are incredibly happy together,” Grace said as she added items to a bag, leaving some on hangers. “Good luck with getting your ring sized.”

“I’m certain we will and I admit I miss having it on my finger. My honey bunchkins spared no expense,” Juliette cooed and slipped her arm under mine.

I stiffened but said nothing. I wasn’t certain what I could say to make this nightmare go away.

“There you go. You’re all set.”

As before, I carried most of the weight as we headed to the truck. To my relief, she remained quiet, but I noticed she was scanning the street.

“Married,” I grumbled.

“I’m sorry about the alias. She started asking questions and I’m not a very good liar. I had to come up with something.”

“It’s alright. Just don’t advertise it.”

“I won’t.”

I followed her gaze and groaned. “What?”

“Do you think we could have a drink at the bar over there?”

Jasper’s was the bar she was talking about. The odds of there being a problem were small. Maybe giving in would keep her off my back for a little while. I continued glowering. Was the risk worth the reward?

“Just one,” she pushed.

“Fine. Sure. Come on, Tank.”

“They allow dogs?”

“This bar does.”

“I think I like it already.”

As we crossed the street, I was aware her knee was still bothering her and slowed down.

“Don’t you have a leash?” she asked.

“Yeah, I do, but Tank isn’t going to run away.”