Page 26 of Bound By Flames

Since when have I become a proud husband too?

What’s going on with me?

“Oh, then you’ll be my next shopping buddy!” Vanessa grins, making the atmosphere less tense.

“I would love to,” answers Mia, and I’m glad to see the both of them getting along already. We finish the rest of the Champagne before Maria walks to me.

“Diner is ready, sir,” she murmurs discreetly before disappearing into the dining room I had redone before Mia arrived to make it look more, how could I say, homey?

Looking at my breathtaking, smart mouth, spiritual, knockout of a wife, I clench my jaw, remembering what I had requested of Larry tonight.

Shit, I should stop this, it was a fucking bad idea.

I wanted to test her after she called me a jerk yesterday, and now, looking at her, I wanna punch myself for it.

What have I done?

Mia

First crisis averted.

I got away with the wine and the large amount of small finger foods Larry, the cook, got ready for us. I just took one cherry tomato to not look like I didn’t eat anything but the worst is yet to come.

Clean food only.

Remember, Mia.

Follow the list.

I was eager to meet new people but I’m quickly realizing the evening is about to be as challenging as a cage fight. On one hand, I’ve got this stunning tall brunette looking at Ares like a mortal to gods, practically drooling over him. Which I can’t really blame her for since he’s indeed looking fine as hell.

And on the other hand, there is this large amount of food I’m absolutely not ready to eat, which is already making me sweat at the idea of having to find an excuse to hide and have my panic attack in peace, preferably in the empty bathtub upstairs.

Awesome, I know.

“Wow, that’s beautiful. Did you decorate it yourself?” asks the brunette, looking over the art on the walls and the massive metallic chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Ares chose to go the rustic way with this place: wood carvings, vintage photographs with the addition of modern high-hand furniture and beige velvet curtains on every window. It screams taste, comfort, and authenticity.

Just like him.

“Yeah, got a bit of help but I did most of it myself,” he says dryly. I’m glad he rested his hand on me a few minutes ago as if he was showing them we were a team and not two strangers stuck in an arranged marriage. The brunette is stunning, and even if he hasn’t been looking at her for now, I’m not sure how I’d feel about them playing cat and mouse in front of me.

Don’t get attached. This isn’t a real marriage.

He’ll never give you the love you’re searching for.

We all get seated, Vanessa and her friend on one side, Scott and I on the other, with Ares at the head of the table. Carolina is right in front of me, Ares being the only person between both of us. If I sense her foot moving toward him under the table, I’m going to see red.

No, you’re not.

Ares is an asshole. Let them play if they want to.

This doesn’t affect you.

Vanessa is still talking to her friend while Maria hurries around us. Scott’s looking quickly at his phone while Ares’s gaze burns into me, but I ignore it.

I don’t even notice how he keeps trying to squeeze my thigh under the table.

I don’t notice it at all.