Page 44 of Forbidden Vows

We work, opening cans and smoothing paint into vertical rectangles. When finished, the concrete walls display samples in varying shades of white, with tones from green to blue. Standing close, we study the colors. I feel good vibes from completing the project with him, his appreciation for my opinion, and the warmth of his arm against mine.

“I like the third one.” He points to the same rectangle that my gaze keeps drifting towards.

“Same.”

“What was the name of that one?”

“Hang on. Let me check.” Under my instruction, he’s placed each paint can beneath its corresponding wall swatch. I kneel, inspecting the label.

No way. I am going to have his babies.

He comes over to see. “What is it?”

“Wedding lace white.” I stand back up.

He laughs. “Really? That’s ironic. Like your lacy white dress? The one you accidentally wore to my brother’s wedding?”

“Gah! Please. Please don’t remind me! It was the cutest one on the clearance rack that didn’t make me look too… round.”

“That dress was so fucking sexy,” he says. “I love your curves.”

The stare he gives me makes me hunger for something I can’t put a name to. Luckily, I’m torn from my carnal confusion by a ping from my new phone.

He instantly wants to know, “Who is it?”

I slip it from my pocket, reading the message. “It’s Seraphina. She’s tied up with work and we won’t see her till dinner.”

“Same with Haze. We won’t see them till dinner. And the honeymooners have yet to emerge.

It's just me and Blaze. I don’t mind. I look to him, wondering what the rest of our day will be like. “So. What now?”

“How about some fun?” He does his sexy grin.

I try to sound seductive, lowering my voice. “What do you have in mind?” It doesn’t work. I clear my throat, promising to stop the awkward attempts to flirt.

“It’s a surprise. Follow me.” He grabs my hand, and those warm tingling sensations spread over my skin as he leads me through the garden to a white glass door on the back of the house on the basement level.

“What could this be? Your lair?”

“Kinda.” He chuckles as he swings the door open. “Come on in.”

I can’t believe what I’m stepping into.

Chapter Twelve

Cleopatra

Is this really his basement? Four long, shiny, wooden alleyways have ten pins arranged in a triangular pattern at the end of each. Each alley has its comfy seating, featuring a cushioned bench shaped in a semicircle. There is also a computer for scorekeeping and a big, bright screen above.

“You have a bowling alley?” I cry. “This is amazing!”

“Yeah.” He looks around with pride. “And I didn’t tell the parents about this place in case we needed space from the lovebirds.”

The back of the basement is under construction, but it looks like there’s a shoe exchange place, a lounge area, and a shiny new popcorn machine on the plastic-covered countertop. Future snack bar? The far side wall is bare other than one black door, but stripes run horizontally down the cream-colored wall in red and orange.

“I know it’s silly, but it’s the first thing I did when I got the house. All this money for the first time in my life. I had to do something to convince myself I was worthy of it.”

I get it. “Going from subsidized housing to your own mansion, I’m sure there’s a bit of impostor syndrome at play.”

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