Page 14 of Malicious Marriage

“Hey, Frankie.” I grin, then I tickle my fingers lightly against Thomas’s stomach. “Hi, baby, look at you! You’re so much bigger than when I last saw you!”

“That’s because you don’t visit enough,” comes Bobby’s voice from the doorway to the kitchen. He stands there wearing a yellow floral apron and brandishing a sizzling pan filled with batter. “Now get in here and help me cook.”

“Yes sir.” Bowing away from Frankie, I kiss Thomas’s cheek and hurry after Bobby. “What do you need from me?”

“Mix,” he orders, thrusting a bowl into my waiting arms. “Two orders of chocolate chips next.”

“On it.”

“Oh, honey.” Bobby pauses and brushes my cheek with flour-coated knuckles. “Did you getanysleep?”

“A little.” I force a smile. “Until I dreamed of Dean learning the truth and cursing me out in colorful, painful glory.”

“Ouch.” Bobby returns the pan to the stove. “Things have barely begun and you’re already ending them.”

“I know,” I sigh while slowly mixing the batter. “My mind is just running away with itself. Like…” Walking forward, I hover near his elbow. “Do you think I should call him?”

“Dean?”

“Yeah.”

“And say what?”

“I have no idea. But he left so quickly yesterday.”

“Didn’t Jack say something about a work emergency?”

“Well… yeah.”

“So he left quickly because he had to, not because he wanted to.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Sure,” Bobby replies, drawing out the sound. “I might not know what he’s thinking, but I do know he came by to drop off your mirror because he’s a gentleman. And he stayed for lunch. There’s a strong implication that he wanted to be there and probably would have stayed longer if not for Jack’s interruption. Ergo, he left because he had to.”

“Maybe.”

“Clover.” Bobby brandishes the spatula at me. “Don’t make me hurt you. Calm those rampant thoughts.”

“I’m trying.”

“Listen. We carefully selected Mr. Savoy because he oozes gentlemanly charm. He runs charity shelters and has saved more animals than I even knew existed in the city. Sure, we’re lying to him because he’s also a man who protects his reputation, but he’s the only eligiblehotman who you stand a chance with.”

“Who’s hot?” Frankie calls from the lounge over Thomas's happy babbling.

“Dean Savoy.”

“Who?”

“You know the hot Savoy? Charity man who hosted that gala last month for the animal shelters along the coast after that huge storm?”

Frankie makes confused sounds.

“Tall, buff as fuck but with these gorgeous blue eyes. Bearded and—oh! The guy you called a foxy horse.”

“Oh!” Frankie scoffs. “Yup. Sexy.”

“Foxy horse?” I ask, pausing my stirring.