Page 160 of Hateful Games

“We’re going to my parents’ for dinner,” I announce from the doorway. “Get dressed.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“I told them we’ll be there by seven.”

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“You’re aware your silent treatment brings out my asshole tendencies, Rose.” Fire licks my neck and I mutter to him, “Does your mommy always get this mad?”

“Woof!”

His little yap draws Rosalie’s attention and those pretty dark eyes collide with mine before switching to her puppy. They flare in jealousy. “Are you resorting to stealing my dogs?”

“Will that stop you from ignoring me?”

“Manipulative jerk!”

“Always with the sweet compliments.”

Shoving aside her laptop, she stands and stomps toward us. She raises her arm to grab Fire from my arms but he turns his head against my chest at the last second.

Her lips part in a wide O.

She blinks back in shock. My amusement dies when tears gather in the corners of eyes at his refusal. They lift to mine filled with hurt and betrayal. “I hate you, Nova!”

Oh fuck.

Pushing past me, she runs down the hall.

“You’re supposed to help me win her over, you goof.” Putting him down to join his troop, I stalk my wife upstairs.

Walking into the bedroom, I hear the telltale noise of slamming and banging from inside the walk-in closet. A black dress is in the crook of her arm while she rises on her tiptoes to pull out her heels on the top shelf.

A shiver runs down her spine when I approach from behind and grab the pair before passing them to her. I don’t let go when she tugs. I softly murmur, “He didn’t mean it, Rose.”

“Great! Now you know him better than I do.”

Turning her around, I lift her chin. “I’ll ignore him until he comes to his senses that I’m the big bad villain.”

“I love him too much to do that.”

My lips twitch at her adorable expression and obvious dilemma.

“But if you want to make up for it, the dogs will sleep in our bed.”

She stares with a smug smirk while I remember my epic fall. And yet, I find myself saying, “Okay. They can sleep with us.”

I should probably order an even bigger bed.

“Now, get out so I can change.” Without giving me a chance to respond, she pushes me out of the closet and locks it. I stare at the door with a sneaking suspicion I just got tricked.

***

I can’t concentrate on the damn road.

Not with Rosalie’s floral perfume distracting me. The hem of her skirt teasing me with the glimpse of her soft skin from the wind coming through the window, which she’s left down. Usually, women bristle at the thought of their perfectly styled hair getting ruined.

But not mine.

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