Page 13 of Say I Do

I tugged on my underwear, slacks, and button-up shirt before I ventured toward the kitchen in search of sweet relief in the form of coffee. Hopefully, that would ease my mind and make me not want to strangle someone.

Someone like Harlow. How is he so irritating?

The crazy thing was Harlow wasn’t the worst-looking guy on the planet. He was slender in all the right ways, with big, gray eyes, a tight waist, and long dark hair. I’d always had a weakness for femininity.. It felt odd to look at Harlow and want to fuck him into submission when I knew he had a dick.

Shit, this is too confusing.

I emerged into the kitchen in time to grimace as Harlow banged pots and pans together. He grinned at me, did it again, and leaned against my counter as my head reverberated. The headache intensified. I crossed the space and wrapped a hand around his slender throat.

“Do it one more time, and I’ll strangle the life out of you.”

Harlow grinned at me. “I’m almost tempted to do it again,” he mused. “Squeeze harder.”

I shoved him away. “Fuck off. I have a full workload today, and I don’t need—”

My words trailed off as I stared down at the new message on my phone. Great. My father had sent me a text.

Dad: Stay home today and then plan a honeymoon for you and your new husband. This has to look good.

Benito: Wait… you knew it would be this guy?

Dad: It was the best option for the problem. I expect you to make it look real.

Benito: Yes, sir.

I moved to the coffee pot and poured myself a mug as my stomach tightened into knots.He knew? What the fuck? How long has he known?

My father always had something up his sleeve, but this was something so far out of the norm it was insane. I wanted to yell at him, to ask why the fuck he hadn’t informed me, but I knew he wouldn’t answer. At the end of the day, what I thought didn’t matter. My job was to make this look good and put on a happy face.

My attention returned to my coffee. I added creamer, sugar, whipped cream, and cinnamon before I felt eyes on me and froze. Harlow stared at me like I had grown a second head.

“What?” I asked.

“Do you need more sugar with that?”

“I’m out,” I muttered. “Your sister was supposed to do the shopping too.”

Harlow’s eyes narrowed at me. “If you keep acting as if I’m supposed to be my sister, we’re going to have a problem.”

“I don’t give a fuck what problem you have with me. Take it up with someone else.”

From what I could see, Harlow was a brat with a capital B. Annoying, irritating, useless. Looks aside, Harlow was a weight around my ankles that threatened to drag me down to the depths below. Yet I couldn’t get rid of him.

Something slammed against the counter, but I ignored Harlow now. He was like a child throwing a temper tantrum. As long as I tuned him out, I didn’t have to worry about it. I carried my coffee to the fridge before I poked my head inside. The desolate shelves were almost sad. I pulled out a carton that contained two eggs, a few pieces of bread that were almost stale, and the last two strips of bacon. Hector wasn’t due to shop and meal prep for another five days.

Fuck I need to go shopping. Oh well. It’s not like I haven’t been faced with an empty kitchen before.

My mother loved to spend all her extra money on herself but never our home. Outfits, shoes, nights, out, botox. Whatever my mother wanted, she got. It often left my belly empty.

I tossed bacon into a pan and turned the heat up. As I washed my hands, something slammed into my back again. I froze.

Did he just throw something at me?

Slowly, I turned to face the menace that now occupied my place of peace. Harlow had another wooden spoon poised to throw at me as he glared. I raised a brow.

“Do that again, and I’ll hit you with it.”

“You were ignoring me.”

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