Page 8 of Wicked Dix

No, you really don’t. But I smile at her kindness. “Yeah. One day,” I reply half-heartedly, letting go of her hand.

Thanks to my obvious retreat, the room becomes as comfortable as a turkey before Thanksgiving.

Sebastian clears his throat. “So Button, have you decided what you’re doing for your birthday?”

And that’s exactly the change of subject I need. “It’s your birthday? When?” I turn to look at her, cocking a surprised brow.

“It’s not until late next month,” she replies, brushing it off.

“The thirtieth, to be precise,” Rachel adds, sipping her wine.

Madison narrows her eyes playfully at her mom.

“Remember when you were younger; all you wanted for your birthday was to go to Rome?” Sebastian reveals while slicing through his meatloaf.

“It was?” Again, this is news to me.

“Yeah.” She shrugs. “It always looked like such a nice place to visit. And I’ve heard their biscotti are to die for.” Her teasing grin hints at the first time we had biscotti together at Dolci’s, the first time I actually felt like a gentleman and not a complete scoundrel.

I’ve missed those feelings, and I want to relive them. With that thought in mind, I declare, “Then it’s settled. For your birthday, we’re going to Rome.”

Maddy laughs, but her humor catches in her throat when she sees I’m dead serious. “No. I can’t accept. That’s too much.”

I shake my head, as I won’t hear otherwise. “Nonsense. We’re going,angelo. All you need is your passport and a suitcase. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Dixon—” But I silence her with a smug smirk that tells her this is a losing battle.

She turns to look at Rachel. “Mom!”

But she only raises her hands, not taking any blame for spilling the beans.

These pleasantries have almost made me forget Juliet is sitting across from me—almost.

“Since you’re so generously offering trips to Rome, what’s one more? I pack light.” She teasingly laughs, appearing to be joking, but I know better.

I turn slowly, fixing my annoyed stare on her. “Three’s a crowd.”

“There are some circumstances when three can be fun.” She cockily grins while I turn my lip up in disgust.

“Well, this isn’t one of them.” Maddy nervously sips her wine, but I make no attempt to hide my contempt for her stepsibling.

I can’t believe I actually liked fucking this woman once upon a time. Her blonde hair sits in a harsh bun, exposing her sharp, pointy, annoying features. Her body, baby bump aside, is not at all feminine and soft like Maddy’s. Not to mention she’s a right royal bitch who has me wishing I was neutered every time I look at her.

I must have been fucking nuts.

In no way, shape, or form do I find myself attracted to her, and if I could erase all memories of her, I would. But sadly, I can’t. She’s just a reminder of what a jackass I am.

We go on eating our meal, keeping the conversation light. Whenever Juliet speaks, I ignore her or whisper into Maddy’s ear. Most times, it’s trivial things like, “How do you like the wine?” or “This meal is delicious,” but I make sure to stroke her leg or graze my lips over the shell of her ear. I do things that’ll make her blush or squirm. Things that’ll make Juliet turn her own shade of red, but not the happy kind.

Who knew annoying her would become my new favorite pastime?

“Who’s ready for dessert?” Rachel sing-songs while I brush my fingers dangerously close to Madison’s delicious heat.

“I know I am,” I whisper. Her soft intake of breath has my very interested cock stirring and doing push-ups in my pants.

Just as I’m going to concoct a lame-ass excuse that’ll give Maddy and me the escape plan we need, Rachel asks, “Maddy, can you help me work the new coffee machine? Sebastian says it’s too high-tech for him.”

Sebastian laughs, playfully smacking his wife on the ass as she heads for the kitchen.

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