Page 171 of Handsome Devil

“Normal went out the window the moment you married America’s most loathed human.” He had gestured at himself as I fastened my Tiffany earrings—my hospital discharge gift—after slipping into a lemon-patterned summer dress.

“Please, love. You’re not even in the top five.” I had rolled my eyes, smiling. “President Keaton? Cillian Fitzpatrick? Baron Spencer?” I named just a few of America’s favorite corporate and political villains.

“That makes me fourth. I’m definitely in the top five. And I don’t think Keaton is doing that bad. Forty-eight percent approval rating is better than most.” He made a scandalized face, alarmed at the prospect of not being positively loathed by the better half of this continent. “That’s top four for you. I earned that hatred fair and square. I might not be drilling every inch of the world for oil and fracking away entire ecosystems, but I’ll have you know I’ve fucked over plenty of hardworking fellas.”

I’d won that argument, and here I was with my friends, sipping cocktails, eating too many tortilla chips, and it all felt almost…normal. Like the good old days.

With the exception that during the good old days, I didn’t sport a 1.2-million-dollar diamond ring on my finger and didn’t have particularly exciting news to share that’d change my whole life.

“So…” Cal licked the rim of her skinny margarita, collecting coarse salt. “What did you want to tell us?”

“Please don’t let it be a surprise pregnancy.” Dylan held her hand up. “There are only so many tropes you can cram into your life these days, and villain-gets-the-girl is a hard act to follow.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you won’t be happy for me if I’m pregnant?”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’d bethrilled,” she amended. “I’ll support you and be happy for you no matter what, but you have to admit this relationship progressed superfast.”

“I’m not pregnant.” I rolled my eyes, suppressing a smile. Dyl was right. Itwastoo soon for a baby. I hadn’t even had a chance to properly enjoy my husband. At the same time, I was oddly comfortable with the idea of having children with Tate considering the fact that our marriage almost cost me my life.

Oh, and that we both had committed murder. In his case,plural.

“Thank God. I still need to catch up on episodes: Gia Almost Got Killed, Gia Got Kidnapped, and Tate Gives Great Oral.” Dylan wiped invisible sweat from her forehead.

“I gave you all the CliffsNotes.” I laughed.

I didn’t share what Tate had done to land himself in a Mafia war. Just explained that he screwed Tiernan over on a business deal. This was ridiculously easy for Cal and Dylan to believe, since both their husbands had been fucked over financially by Tate.

“Hardly.” Dylan made a face, mounting guac on her tortilla chip and tossing it into her mouth. “You left so much information out.”

“Such as?”

“Is Tiernan Callaghan as hot up close as he is in the pictures?”

“This is your second strike,” Cal gasped. “Stop salivating over this asshole.”

“Don’t pretend.” Dylan gave Cal a playful shove. “You were there with me when I conducted the, um, my research on him.”

“He is ruggedly handsome,” I admitted. “That whole mass murderer bit, though, takes him down from a ten to a seven.”

“Twelve in my books.” Dylan tossed her hair back. “Anyway, you were saying?”

“I was saying…” I lowered my fork and sat back, looking between my two friends with a huge grin on my face. “We’re moving.”

“On from this episode?” Dylan asked hopefully.

“No, physically, from the city.”

“Moving where?” Cal took another mouthful of her burrito bowl.

“England.”

She proceeded to choke on her bite, coughing uncontrollably and reaching for her glass of water.

“NewEngland?” Cal cleared her throat.

“No. Old England. The one with the castles and king andrealfootball.”

“I’m sorry.” Dylan raised a hand. “It might be the accent. I think you pronounced ‘Westchester’ wrong.”