Page 39 of Wake Me Up Before You Cocoa

By the time he finished, he was sick to his stomach. He was not going to allow his father-in-law to dictate his life, his finances, his wife, and his future children. He’d end up a pawn to Philip Gravois.

If he signed this monstrosity, Gravois would treat him like dirt. As if he owned him—which would be the truth.

It was time to act. Declare that he was his own person. Definitively, for the last time. He would not settle for second place in any woman’s life whose father had the ability to run their marriage, home, and future family.

Wade was able to amply provide for his future wife. He certainly did not need or want her family’s money, let alone Philip Gravois’s dictates and orders. If Lydia married him, she wouldn’t need it either. But he doubted she would see it that way.

The prenuptial was something Lydia could—or would—hang over his head every day, whether as a sword of power or as a method of getting what she wanted. When she wanted it—and how she wanted it.

Worst of all, Lydia would come to despise him for being a weak pushover.

Imagining the interference from Mr. and Mrs. Gravois was enough to make Wade want to throw a chair through the window.

But that wasn’t fair to the window, or the beautiful red and purple tulips growing just underneath the set of picture windows that overlooked the backyard.

Every muscle in Wade’s body was knotted and tight. Even his mouth set in a straight thin line made his jaw ache.

This entire disaster-waiting-to-happen gave him a headache and he never got headaches. His decision was made. And, in the long run, it hadn’t been that difficult.

Striding across the room, he opened the glass doors of the grate in front of his fireplace. One by one, he tore each page of the prenuptial contract in half and threw it onto the logs already sitting there.

The pile was massive by the time he finished shredding and crumpling all the pages. Grabbing the box of matches on the hearth, he lit three of them, one by one, and touched the orange flames to the edges of the papers.

A few seconds later, a roaring fire was growing. Heat washed over him in a warmth he hadn’t experienced since spending the day with Marina yesterday.

Wade spent a few more minutes using the poker to keep the massive pile of official attorney papers in place, but it wasn’t long before they turned into ashes.

A heavy burden lifted from his shoulders when he stirred the remnants of paper. The worry and weight of it all rose toward the high ceiling and then disappeared when he opened the back door to let in a wave of fresh spring air to clear the house of lingering acrid smoke.

Wade let out his breath in a massive exhale. He gulped down a glass of water, then picked up his phone, punching the number for a specific contact.

Lydia answered in two rings. “Hello, Wade darling,” she purred. “Finally, you’re calling me back!”

He clenched his teeth. “Lydia, we need to talk.”

“Does that mean you finally miss me after all day? I only left a million messages!”

Wade didn’t respond to her recriminations. “We just need to talk. The sooner the better.”

“Ooh, you must be anxious,” she said, her tone growing husky. “Are you coming to my place? Oh, wait, I’m at my parents’ house, of course, until the wedding. That doesn’t give us much privacy, although they’re not here right now. Which means we can be alone . . . which means we could have a kissing session—I haven’t seen you in two days, not since our family dinner atThe Toulouse Parisian. I called your phone over and over again all day long. Did you get my texts?”

“Yes, I got them.”

“So, what were you doing?”

“I was on that job in the Garden District all day Friday and had to work my own job today to make up for it. Spring is a really busy time for us. I think I told you about the Garden District job a hundred times.”

“I can’t help it if I forget. I have so much on my mind. Why didn’t you call me or text me?” she said with a little whine to her voice.

“When I got home, I spent the evening reading the prenuptial your father insisted I sign ASAP. I did a lot of thinking. And it’s time to have a hard, serious talk. I’ll see you in fifteen minutes,” Wade told her, then ended the call.

He was so agitated he couldn’t wait until the next morning. He had to see Lydia now.

Chapter Eighteen

As soon as Wade rang the doorbell to the Gravois mansion, Lydia flung the door open and rushed into his arms, throwing her arms around his neck in a tight squeeze.

He disentangled himself, took a step backward, and gave her a severe look.

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