Page 125 of Take My Name

I huff a laugh, tightening my legs around his waist.

“How many women?”

“None, Maze. You know that.”

“No, how many flirted and wanted you to ask ’em out.”

“Why’s it matter?”

I can’t explain it. The raging jealousy builds in my chest at anyone ever getting to experience him the way I do. He’s truly one-of-a-kind and knowing he waited for me makes him an even more rare gem.

“It just does,” I tell him instead of admitting it.

He blows out an exasperated breath. “I dunno, maybe a dozen or so?”

“Adozen?” I gasp, leaning back far enough to meet his eyes. Here I was thinking like five. “Gimme their names. All of ’em.”

He furrows his brows, chuckling. “Half of ’em are probably married by now. The rest I have no idea. They were mostly strangers I’d meet when I’d go out to the bar with Silas or at rodeos.”

“Well, you’re restricted from those areas from now on.”

He crosses his arms, taking a cautious step back. “Is that so?”

“Yes, it is.”

If he knows I’m acting unreasonable, he doesn’t call me out on it. This fiery heat between us feels new yet so familiar that I’m aware of what a catch he is and I don’t like the idea of another woman being interested.

And yes, given the circumstances, I have no right to have those feelings, but I’m only a girl remembering how in love she was with the boy she fell for at fifteen.

“Would you feel better if the next time it happens, I tell ’em I have a wife and that if she even smells that another woman was near me, she’ll come for blood?”

“Next time?” I glower, huffing but secretlyenjoying that he’s playing along. “And yes, I would. Let ’em know I have pepper spray.”

He barks out a humorous laugh, tilting my chin until his gray eyes pierce mine. “I will never let a non-relative woman near me ever again.”

“Good. That’s all I needed to hear.”

With a devilish smirk, he gives me a sweet kiss. “For our date tonight, I’m cookin’ you dinner, so I need to run to the grocery store. Do you wanna come?”

“Can I pick out the wine?”

“Absolutely.”

I grin. “Then let’s go!”

Who knew grocery shopping with my estranged husband would feel sonormal?

In New York, I’d typically pick up items as we needed it from a nearby market since neither of us cooked much. It’s been years since I was inside a large grocery chain, but somehow, it was fun.

While I pushed the buggy and followed him throughout the store, he talked about what he was making and all the ingredients he needed for it. We grabbed more fruit and yogurt for smoothies since that’s easy enough for me to make. Then we did some damage in the bakery section before grabbing a couple bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon for the Beef Wellington.

“It takes a while to prep and cook, so I have to start as soon as we get back,” he tells me as he pulls out of the parking lot.

“I’d offer to help, but I’d only get in your way and slow you down.”

He smirks, glancing from the driver’s side. “Don’t worry. I’ve only made it once, so fingers crossed I don’t screw it up or we’ll be eatin’ those frozen pizzas instead.”

Once we’re home, I help him bring in the bags and then unload the items on the counter since I have no idea where he prefers to put everything.