Page 96 of Cruelest Contract
I choose to look on the bright side. At least the man who has the power to make me so delirious with crazed passion that I’m demanding to get fucked right out in the open is the man I married.
“What’s all that noise at the back of the house?” I ask and reach for the hot water kettle.
Tye grabs the kettle first and fills my cup. He’s remarkably adept and spills nothing. “What noise?”
“I’ll bring your father a slice of frittata,” Mel says and transfers a wedge of the egg and veggie pie to a shiny black plate. “He’s too busy to come to the table.”
Cass didn’t appear busy at all. There were no papers on his desk, no sign of a computer or a laptop or even a phone.
Mel’s black pants swish as she leaves the room on her resolute mission to deliver frittata to Cass Tempesta.
“Pool,” Getty says and grabs five slices of crisp bacon.
I’m not sure if he’s talking to me. “What?”
He doesn’t answer right away. I watch him pick up the knife beside his plate. He briefly twirls the handle between his fingers.This is obviously a trick he’s done a thousand times but I still wince at the reckless behavior. He flips the knife, catches it neatly, and stabs a slice of frittata.
“Show off.” Tye’s meaty hand snatches three muffins. “She’s not impressed.”
Getty ignores him. “The noise you hear is a backhoe digging a big hole.”
“Oh yea, the pool,” Tye says. “We used tobegfor a pool but Pops always said no way, that a fucking pool doesn’t belong on a cattle ranch.”
I swirl a bag of tea around inside my cup. “What made him change his mind?”
Tye’s eyes dance as he leans closer to poke me with his elbow. “Your husband’s pretty convincing. But I guess you knew that already.”
“The pool was Julian’s idea?”
“He said you needed it.” Tye shrugs. “Your therapy or something. They’re even building a room around it since this climate isn’t really pool weather most of the year. We’ll be able to swim in the dead of winter. What do you think of that?”
My hand automatically slides over my bad knee.Julian remembered.I made an offhand comment about how I used swimming as physical therapy. And Julian decided to immediately install a pool at home.
I’m astonished. I never would have asked him to go to so much trouble. But I’m thrilled that he did.
“Do you want the last muffin?” Tye nudges me again.
“All yours,” I say.
Getty steals the muffin first. Tye throws a fork at him.
After breakfast, I ask to see my office. Getty still makes me uneasy and I’d rather not deal with him shadowing me constantly. If I wasn’t worried about antagonizing him even more, I’d tell him he’s dismissed as my bodyguard.
We’ve walked to a part of the house I’m not too familiar with. Past the library and a couple of guest rooms. The machinery sounds are louder here. Tye stops at a closed door and gives me a grin before turning the knob and throwing the door open.
“Your office, my queen.”
“Oh!” I gasp and cover my mouth.
My furniture is here. Myactualfurniture. My sofa. My throw pillows. The secondhand rolltop oak desk that Alice helped me strip and refinish back in college.
Tye strolls into the middle of the room, which is square-shaped and cozy. On the opposite wall a pair of rectangular windows sit right above a built-in bench. He takes a seat on the bench and the wood creaks under his weight.
“It all arrived while you were on your honeymoon,” Tye says. “Julian asked us to get it set up for you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, too choked up to say more.
“There are some boxes in the closet over there. Stuff from your apartment or whatever.”
