Page 39 of His Vengeful Tradwife

"I'm not telling you shit," I said. "Who’s to say you won't do the same fucking thing again with some other woman because you want attention and think you're too good for my channel?"

"I don't!" Maverick said harshly, his hands tightening on me, gripping my hair so tightly I felt shivers of pleasure down my spine. "I was wrong. I see that now. I've been doing all the worksheets my mother gave me. I was an arrogant fool, jealous of your success. Jealous that you didn't need me anymore. I am proud of your channel."

"Prove it," I said indifferently, knowing he couldn't do anything of the sort on this cruise ship.

"I'll prove anything you like," he growled in my ear, his hands halfway to undoing my bikini top when luckily Dad came over, ignoring Maverick entirely to ask if he could have a sandwich, and I was able to wiggle out of my husband's arms.

We spent a few happy hours at the beach, and I watched as Maverick played with the kids, throwing a football back and forth with Gabriel, building a sand castle with Seraphina, even though she insisted on doing it where waves constantly buried it, making Maverick have to build it over and over again. He even changed Emmylou's poopy diaper.

"A diaper bag," I said, "has many uses."

We finally headed back, flushed and happy, tromping up the gangplank with plenty of time to spare.

"My parents say they want to take the kids to a movie," Maverick said. "I'll go settle them in and you can take a shower or relax if you like."

I watched him go, his broad shoulders barely fitting in the narrow hallway, dark curls falling over the back of his neck. He had been stepping up with the kids, spending more time with them like I'd been suggesting. He hadn't mentioned work at all.

But that wasn't enough. How did I know any of these changes were lasting ones?

Just as I was about to head to my room, I saw Diego.

"Tallulah!" the handsome tennis instructor warbled happily, making a beeline for me. "I was just going down to meet Amanda, but ifyou'reup for something, I'll cancel."

"Oh, what were you planning to do?" I asked sweetly.

"I don't know, maybe get drinks?" Diego asked, handing me his phone and scrolling to their text thread. "Want to come with?"

I didn't think the heart-eyes emojis and selfies she had sent him indicated she'd appreciate me coming along, but I had an even better idea.

"The cruise ship is about to leave," I said. "We better not go or we'll risk getting left behind."

"Good point," Diego said, going a bit green around the gills. "The only way back if the cruise has left is to charter a private plane. And that's damn expensive. See you soon for another lesson?"

"Maybe," I replied vaguely, glancing at my watch.

It would be cutting it close, but this was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Besides, I could always charter a jet if I had to. My latest brand deal had been very lucrative.

So I went down the gangplank and headed to where Diego had promised to meet Amanda.

As I walked up, I saw her in a very short miniskirt and high heels, waiting impatiently at a chair at an empty cabana bar.

When she heard me walk up, she whirled around, stumbling out of her chair and almost flat on her face in her haste to see Diego.

"Finally!" she moaned in a sultry tone.

Then she stopped short.

"Oh. . .it's you," Amanda said in disappointment. "What are you doing here?" she added unpleasantly.

"Looking for Diego?" I asked, walking closer to her so I could see how her tiny nostrils flared, her thin lips tightened.

She was desperate for a win.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm over Maverick now. Diego's evenmorehandsome."

"No, he's not," I said scornfully. "And I've got some bad news for you. Diego's not coming. I ran into him just now and all it took was one look at me and he forgot all about your little date. I left him slobbering over the idea of another tennis lesson. He doesn't care about you. Let it go."

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