Page 92 of Just My Fake Husband

I cross my arms across my chest. “Mr. Tate, ask me like a civil person and I’d be happy to open it.” I shrug. “And if not, I’ll go back downstairs now.”

After I catch my breath for a second.

Something in me has lit itself on fire. I’m burning with . . . what? Fury? Indignation? A desire to protect the man I love from his rogue father? I’ve never spoken to Thomas like that. I’ve always had to be cautious and polite. I’ve been living in fear around him because I had to play a certain role. Put on a show.

But something is different now. Is it because I’m in love with Gabriel? Probably. I feel brave. And also? I don’t have to pretend anymore. Because our marriage is real. Things are good. All thepretenses are gone. They’ve blown away like a fallen autumn leaf.

Thomas sizes me up, his lips in a hard line. We stand here, toe to toe. When he falters, hissing out a “Please,” I’m surprised he caved.

I wave my work badge over the panel on the wall next to the door and the locking mechanism inside the doorknob clicks. Thomas steps in front of me, causing me to stumble back, as he wrenches the handle and pulls the door open.

“Excuseyou,” I mutter and step in the room next to him. I hear Gabriel before I see him.

“What did you do?” His tone is accusatory and that’s when I see that he’s standing over a reclined Milo.

My gaze meets Gabriel’s. I make my way around the huge, black leather sectional full of various Tate brothers and Drake. The smell of wing sauce punctuates the air, but that’s quickly forgotten when I notice the set of Gabriel’s shoulders, the concern on his face.

Gabriel reaches out a hand to grasp mine as I get to him. He turns to look at his father, who hasn’t moved from the doorway. Thomas scans the room for a second before turning his gaze on us. A football game is playing mutely on the TV screen. Everyone’s staring at us.

“I need to speak to you, Gabriel,” Thomas’s voice is calm, but there’s an edge, and any false show of calm is betrayed by the look in his eyes.

Gabriel turns to me. “I’ll be right back.” He squeezes my fingers and gives an affable smile. The cool thing is, I believe it. I believe he really is as carefree as he seems. He’s not posturing like his father is.

“The wife is gonna need to come, too,” Thomas says.

Gabriel tenses and opens his mouth to speak but Milo stands and pats him on the shoulder. He quirks a half smile. “I’ll handle this. This isn’t your fault.”

Gabriel’s expression is one of confusion. “What happened, Milo?”

“Milo, you can sit down. This doesn’t involve you,” Thomas says.

Milo doesn’t respond but keeps walking. Gabriel steps forward to join him and I follow. “I’m coming, too,” I insist.

Sebastian’s gotten to his feet. “Is there a problem, Dad?”

Thomas’s eye twitches. “All will be out in the open soon.” His gaze flashes to mine and that’s when it hits me. Thomas Tate knows our secret.

At least he knows what our secret used to be.

My heartbeat ratchets up as I run to join Gabriel, who, if the twitching muscle near his dimple is to be believed, has also come to the same conclusion.

Before we’ve even reached Thomas, he’s already spinning on his heel. “River’s office.” Again, his tone is falsely breezy. Void of feeling. Which I realize is a tactic in and of itself. Appear completely unaffected by anything and everything around you and you’ll be less likely to be hurt.

“Nope.” Gabriel’s tone is hard. “We can talk right here.”

“Uh . . .” Oliver glances behind him at the big screen. “You guys want to go over to my office instead? You remember the code, don’t you?”

“Thanks, but no, Oliver,” Gabriel says, widening his stance. “This won’t take long.”

“If you really want the entire family to hear what you’ve done, then fine.” Thomas is grinning broadly. “It’s quicker like this, anyway.”

“Guys, I feel like this is my fault,” Milo begins but he draws back when Gabriel shoots him a look.

“I appreciate you telling me, Milo,” Thomas says. “It was the right thing to do.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

Gabriel shoots out a gust of air.

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