Page 12 of Malicious Marriage
Husband?Oh. Bobby is not competition I need to worry about. “Terrible,” I agree. “Where is the loyalty?”
“Exactly!” She glances up at me with wide, sparkling eyes. “I knew you’d understand.”
“A hundred percent.”
“What about you and Jack?” She resumes her cooking, and while it’s difficult to sit here and do nothing when I badly want to help her, it’s the first time someone has cooked for me like this in a long time. She’s acting with purpose, with me in mind even though she barely knows me, and her smile makes my insides feel all gooey and warm.
“Similar in terms of how long we’ve known each other. Jack is ex-military and was actually at the same bar I was at when someone decided they didn’t like me very much and wanted to silence me. A fight broke out, I got stabbed, and the next thing Iknow, Jack appeared. He straight up flew across the bar to tackle this guy into the jukebox. Saved my life, and I hired him on the spot.”
“Damn!” Clover pauses everything and stares at me, open-mouthed. “I bet his pay must beamazing.”
“He thinks so.” I chuckle. “Although any time he mentionsthat time I saved your life, I know he’s haggling for a pay raise.”
“Which you, of course, have to oblige.” Clover adds the chicken to the veg and moves on to some cheese. “After all, he saved your life.”
“You and Jack will get on well,” I muse with playfully narrowed eyes.
“I respect a hustler.” She grins, glancing at me through her dark lashes.
She’sbeautiful.
Clover isn’t wearing even a fraction of the makeup she wore to the party, but that changes nothing. Her green eyes are as vibrant as gemstones in sunlight, and her plump, curvy body is as mouth watering as I remember. Each time she smiles at me, I have to fight the urge to claim those plush, thick lips for myself.
Just one taste to see if they’re as soft and as sweet as they look.
I keep a very firm lid on these desires.
“Will anyone be joining us for lunch?” I ask, glancing casually over my shoulder. “Your father, perhaps?”
Clover’s hands tremble slightly as she crumbles the cheese over the salad and turns her back on me to rummage in the cupboard behind her. “No, just us.”
“Do you live alone?”
She grabs salad dressing from the top shelf, stretching up to reach it and grasping it before I have time to offer assistance. “Yes, sort of.” Turning back to face me, her smile isn’t as vibrantas before. “If I’m completely honest with you, Dean, it might not even be my house for much longer.”
“Oh?” My curiosity rises and a hundred reasons burst through my mind. Woodworms? Poor construction? Bad roof?
“You see…” Her attention returns to the salad and she very slowly stirs all the ingredients together. “My father is dead. It’s my uncle who is the backbone of my family. He put me in charge and at the time, I was excited. But lately, the weight of his expectation is just…crushing. Nothing I do is right in his eyes and we had a bout of bad luck. Really bad luck, actually.”
The way she speaks and the weight of her words tell me exactly where this is going before she gets there.
“And now I’m doing everything I can just to keep us afloat, but it's not enough.”
“Nothing tests a family like financial difficulties,” I say softly when she turns her back on me once more.
When she returns, she has two small bowls in hand and quickly spoons some of the salad into each. “You’re not wrong. So part of the reason you found me crying was because that party was my last taste of the elite life. And I don’t mean that in a pathetic way like I’ll miss caviar or the smothering crowds. It just sort of struck me how final everything is, if that makes sense?” She slides a bowl toward me with a silver fork and smiles, but it doesn’t reach her beautiful eyes. “You never realize how constant something is in your life until it’s gone.”
“I’m sorry,” is all I can think to say. “I can’t imagine how turbulent it must be in your situation. And my condolences about your father.”
Her smile is sad this time and she perches up on the stool next to me. “Four years ago, he passed. The trigger that started it all. It’s hard to even think of what life was like before he died. Everything just feels so…” She falls silent, searching for the right word.
“Heavy?” I offer around a mouthful of the salad, which itself is very tasty. It’s an explosion of fresh, sweet tastes in my mouth and I wolf down two more bites while she nods.
“Heavy, exactly. Speaking from experience?”
My turn. “To an extent. It’s not money worries that keep me awake at night but… I definitely feel the weight of expectation. These days, I feel like little more than a show pony backed into a corner because all anyone cares about when they look at me is who I can marry to make the family stronger, how long until I produce an heir because I’m pushing forty and it’s reckless to wait so long. And if that’s not enough, my ex is actually pregnant, but she’s also the devil incarnate and not the kind of person I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
“Oh, wow.” Clover chuckles. “That sounds… y’know, I’ll keep my money troubles. At least it’s singular and just me. You sound like you’re in a circus.”