Page 73 of The One Night Match
Timothy isn’t the first asshole to make a misogynistic remark since we’ve been standing here, but he is the first to be so upfront about it.
I smile at him. “I think I’ve got all the man I can handle with this one here.”
It’s far more diplomatic than I want to be, but snapping back won’t do me any good in this case.
Cruz has been tight-lipped about the situation with Dennis, but I’ve put together enough pieces to know Timothy is more than likely part of the threat to my life, and antagonizing him will only make matters worse.
He glares at Cruz, the hatred toward my husband clear. “I’ve been trying to call my dad, but he just texts back his updates. It’s unlike him because the old fucker hates texting.”
Cruz shrugs. “He’s called me a few times. Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk to you.”
The tips of Timothy’s ears turn a bright shade of red, giving away his anger despite his face remaining perfectly unbothered.
“Dennis never ignores Tim’s calls,” Monica says. “And healwaysanswers me.”
“I’m sure he does,” Cruz replies. “But unfortunately, I don’t know why he’s choosing to text. He’ll be home in a few days if his reports are anything to go by, and then you can ask him yourself. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Riley has been on her feet for hours answering questions. She needs a drink and something to eat.”
He steers me toward the table at the front of the room and pulls out my chair for me, allowing me to sink into it before I collapse.
He must have noticed how much I was shifting from foot to foot, the pain in the balls of my feet getting to the point of agony. And don’t get me started on my toes. If I thought it was possible for them to fall off, I’d be seriously worried right now.
I allow my eyes to fall closed as I take stock of myself, an exercise I learned in therapy after the Jeremy incident.
My muscles are sore, and my head is pounding, but the steady presence of Cruz has made it easier than I expected to push my anxiety to the side.
He takes his seat beside me and easily drags my chair around until my legs are caught between his. His hand cups my cheek as he looks me over. “You doing okay, Kitten?”
“I only ever have to do this once, right? Like, this isn’t a yearly thing where I get grilled by every Tom, Dick, and Harry?”
His amused smirk tugs up into a full-blown smile, and it takes me a second to realize why. “Worrying about this being ayearly thing implies you’re planning on sticking around past the three-month mark.”
I drag my bottom lip between my teeth to fight the smile tugging at my lips, but it’s pointless. “Maybe I am.” I shrug.
The genuine happiness staring back at me through dark eyes makes my chest clench, and I lean into the hand cupping my cheek, my heart fuller than I knew it could be.
“It was the tattoo that did it, wasn’t it?”
I laugh, the sound getting lost in the sea of voices around us. “I mean, it would be rude to leave a man who tattooed my name right above his penis. But no. It was actually Mr. Whiskers that sealed the deal.”
Cruz’s body shakes with the force of his own laugh. “I knew I let that little fucker stay for a reason. It just took a few years to realize why.”
THIRTY-NINE
CRUZ
Riley is crushing it.
I’ve been to a bunch of these events, and the woman of the hour almost always cracks under the pressure. Hell, most of the men I know would crack being interrogated the way these vultures have been Riley, but she smiles and nods and answers every one of their ridiculous questions and scenarios.
A fresh glass of champagne appears in front of her, and she doesn’t hesitate to drain the contents before returning to the overcooked chicken on her plate, enjoying the peace and quiet while she can. It won’t be long before our break is over and Riley will be thrown to the snakes once again, but I already have plans for how to reward her when we get home.
A long bath, a bunch of orgasms, and some gifts I’ve been hoarding until she realized she wouldn’t be going anywhere at the end of the ninety-day window should ease the pain in her feet.
Speaking of which.
“Do you want me to have Ben bring in your change of shoes?”
Her eyes flick up to meet mine with surprise. “How do you know about that?”
