Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 119548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
“That’s because it’s a button,” I said dryly.
“Oh.” She looked at me. “It won’t unzip.”
Because it’s a button.
I knocked her hands away and undid the button, then took a deep breath and undid the zip for good measure. Knowing her right now, she’d end up catching it on her underwear or something.
“Think you can manage now?”
“You unzipped it!”
“Sure. I unzipped it,” I replied, getting up and turning away. “Change your bottoms.”
“Yes, husband.”
That word from her lips sent a shiver down my spine.
Shit.
I could count on one hand how many times she’d used that word since the wedding, but right now, it hit me differently. It wasn’t the snarky, sarcastic way she usually said it. No—coming from this cute, clumsy Delilah, it was deadly.
Husband.
I was her husband.
What the fuck was I holding back for? I was in love with her. I loved her with every atom of my being.
My accidental rejection of her had clearly stung. I could fix it all so, so easily. I could give in to my impulses and make her see that I wasn’t rejecting a single part of her. That I was accepting every last hair on her body, every last freckle and mole and scar.
That I wanted nothing as badly as I wanted her.
I glanced back at her and paused. Watching her fumble with the tie at the waist of her pyjamas brought me back to reality.
She was drunk. I was not.
There wasn’t a scenario in which I’d take advantage of her like this.
“I’ve got it,” I said softly, sitting back down. I took the strings from her hands and quickly tied them into a bow, then pulled back. “Is that too tight?”
She shook her head. “I’m tired.”
“Alcohol does that to you. Lie down.”
She did as I said, and I tucked her in, making sure her hair was away from her face.
“I’m going to get water and some painkillers, all right? I’ll be right back.”
“Fred.” She grabbed my hand, rolling her head to the side. Her copper gaze found mine, and I softened at the sleepy sadness in it. “Can you just stay with me?”
“Deli…”
“Please. It’s weird sleeping alone,” she whispered. “I don’t like it.”
I drew in a deep breath and sighed it out. “All right, I’ll sleep with you. Just let me get what you need, okay?”
“Promise you won’t leave?”
“Promise.”
“Okay.” She reluctantly let go of my hand, but her eyes never left me as I headed out of the bedroom.
Shit.
It was like she knew I couldn’t resist it when she acted like that.
I went downstairs and filled a bottle with ice and water, then rifled through the drawer for some painkillers. Ibuprofen was the first one I laid a finger on, so that was the one I took with me.
I carried them upstairs for her and walked back into the bedroom. Deli was hanging over the side of the bed, her hair flipped and pooling on the floor, and I frowned.
“What on Earth are you doing?”
“Shh. There’s a mouse.”
There most certainly was not a mouse in our bedroom. “You’re drunk, Delilah.”
“No, no, I can see it. Is just there.” She shoved an arm under the bed to presumably point at something I couldn’t see.
I sighed, set the things I’d brought on the bedside table, and dropped to the floor. I lay on my stomach and peered under the bed to find the so-called mouse, and Deli turned her face to the side and grinned at me.
“Hi.”
I tapped her on the nose. “Where’s this mouse?”
“Right there.” She pointed at a small, dark shape back against the wall.
“That’s no mouse.” I sighed and helped her back up. “I’ll get it.”
“What is it?”
I got back down and slid under the bed, reaching as far as I could. With the offending item safely in my hand, I scooted back, making sure my head was clear of the bedframe before sitting up.
Deli stared at the item I’d just produced, then burst into a round of giggles. “It’s a slipper!”
“It’s your slipper,” I corrected her. “Your mouse slipper.”
“I told you it was a mouse!”
I intended on arguing with her, but technically, she was correct. “Okay, you’re right. It was a mouse.”
With a laugh of my own, I put her slipper over by the door with the other one and made my way back over to the bed.
“Take these.” I held out the pill strip.
She looked at it. “What’s that? Is it contraception? Are you finally going to ravage me, Frederick?”
Drunk Delilah was exhausting.
“It’s ibuprofen,” I said flatly. “Why would I give you contraception? You’re already using it.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Oh, I am. How do you know that?”
“Because you made me hold your hand when they changed the implant.” I popped two pills from the strip and grabbed the water bottle. “Take them. Now.”
“Yes, husband.” She opened her mouth like a baby bird, and I sighed again.