Nevertheless, I knew it was going to be one of them.
I was less certain when I saw how visibly ticked he was.
In fact, I wasn’t even certain I wanted to finish walking up to his house.
What I was certain of was that I was not a child, and my future husband, fake or not, didn’t get to speak to me like I was.
It was on this thought I stopped on his porch, and therefore could ignore his eyes sweeping the length of me before coming back to my face, seeming even angrier than he was before I got close (and it was good I could ignore this, or it would have been a hit to my ego, which wasn’t very pronounced, but even I thought I looked cute in this dress), and I snapped, “What’s going on?”
His heavy brows twitched, that was all the indication given that he wasn’t a fan of my tone, but I read that indication, even before his rumbling-with-fury, normally-gravelly-but-now-it-was-a-veritable-quarry voice reverberated my way.
“You’ll reconsider that attitude, no matter how hot it is, especially it coming from you when you’re wearing that fucking dress and those goddamned shoes, when it hits you, like it hit me, that we work closely together. We spent nearly an entire goddamn week together. We’ve cooked together. We’ve cuddled in front of the TV together. We’ve even baked fucking cookies…” he seemed to lose it, bent slightly toward me, and snarled, “together.” He got a lock on it, and leaned back, finishing, “And nothing.”
“Nothing?” I asked.
He spoke no further words.
He dropped his arms, turned and prowled into his house, and I knew this was also a nonverbal command to follow him.
I took a moment to consider seizing that opportunity to leave and come back when he’d calmed down from whatever had peeved him.
I didn’t because I heard an impatient “Alexandra” barked from inside.
Oh no.
Unh-unh.
No way.
I stomped in after him.
“What?” I bit out, throwing the door closed behind me.
It didn’t slam, but it didn’t close gently.
Rix glowered at it, then glowered at me, then lifted his arm.
I noticed he had his TV remote in his hand.
So I looked to the TV.
On it was Elsa Cohen sitting in her signature mint-green velvet swivel chair, this particular episode, however, was paused.
She wasn’t paused for long.
Rix hit go, the segment started playing, and as it did, I stared in horror, not only at all that was pouring forth, but that some of it was news so fresh, they had pictures of Rix and me from Friday…yesterday…and that very morning.
How…
Incredibly…
Creepy.
“Oh my God,” I breathed.
When she was done, Rix paused her again, and slowly, cautiously, I turned my gaze to his.
“Needless to say,” he started ominously, “I was surprised when I got the phone call from my mother not too long ago, who is, by the way, beside her-fuckin’-self I’ve finally found someone worthy of me, telling me our asses are up in Flagstaff next weekend so she can cook for you—”
“Oh my God,” I repeated.
“—and I shouldn’t worry about driving back in the same day. She wants us up there the whole weekend. She was so excited, she was making plans as she was talking to me. She’s going to have Josh, Hailey and Kinsley over, for one. And she says we can sleep in my old room. Though, she did say she’d appreciate it if we didn’t get up to anything, and warned that if we needed space to do our thing, she’d ask some friends if we can stay in their cabin so we could have privacy. If not, we have to sleep in the basement.”
“Oh my God,” I gasped.
It was like I made no noise.
Rix kept speaking.
“Goes without saying she just can’t wait to meet you. She thinks you’re very pretty and it’s clear we’re the perfect match and she really likes that white top you wore on Friday and wants to know where you bought it. She also wants to know if you’ve met the queen.”
I closed my eyes.
“Fortunately,” he went on, and I opened my eyes, “since I didn’t know the answer to that question, or what the fuck she was talking about, or how the fuck she found out about us, Dad took the phone from her, so I didn’t have to answer Mom’s questions. But it’s safe to say, if Mom was thrilled, Dad was fucking ecstatic.”
This just kept getting worse.
Thus now, I was powerless to do anything but stare mutely at him.
“At the time, Mom was quiet about her feelings about the end of Peri and me, but I got where she was at. Though, later, she’d confide that she never really felt Peri was the one. Dad was, first, hurt, because he liked her and he liked her for me. Then, he got ticked. Now, he fuckin’ detests her. So, seein’ as I’m so fuckin’ happy with a woman who is made for me and takes me as I am who also happens to be some fuckin’ countess or some shit—”