“Don’t walk away from me,” he practically growls, spinning me around to face him. He’s scowling while I’m grinning. “And you can wipe that grin off your face.” He proceeds to tighten my straps, muttering some rubbish about an insufferable wife, who drives him fucking crazy. “Better. Ridiculous dress.” He takes a deep breath of patience. “Why do you insist on being so difficult?”
“Because I know it drives you crazy.”
“You just enjoy reducing me to a crazy madman.”
“You make yourself a crazy madman.” I laugh. “You need no help in that department, Jesse. I’ve told you before; you do not dictate my wardrobe.”
His eyes burn with green displeasure, but I don’t shy away from his hulking fierceness. I’m really rather brave. “You drive me crazy,” he repeats, because he doesn’t know what else to say.
“What are you going to do?” I ask smugly. “Divorce me?”
“Watch your fucking mouth!”
“I didn’t even swear!” I’m really laughing now.
“Yes, you fucking did! The worse word, in fact. I forbid you to say it.”
Oh, now I’ve really got the chuckles. “You forbid me?”
His arms fold over his chest in an act of authority, like I’m a bloody child. “Yes, I forbid you.”
“Divorce,” I whisper.
“Now you’re just being childish,” he huffs, just like a child.
“-ish.” I shrug. “Feed me.”
He scoffs loudly and shakes his head. “I should fucking starve you and reward you with food when you do what you’re fucking told.” My shoulders are clenched, I’m turned around, and then I’m guided to a seafront restaurant. “I’ll feed you here.”
We’re shown to a table for two on the outside terrace and settled by a happy Spanish man with slicked black hair and a moustache to match. “Drinks?” he asks in a thick Spanish accent.
“Water, thank you.” Jesse sits me down and tucks me under the table before taking a seat opposite and passing me a menu. “The tapas are sublime.”
“You pick.” I hand the menu back. “I’m sure you’ll make a suitable choice.” My eyebrows are raised cheekily, and the menu is taken from my hand thoughtfully, but with no scorn or reproving look.
“Thank you,” he says slowly.
“You’re welcome,” I counter, pouring us a glass of water each when the waiter places an ice-cold jug on the table. I down the whole glass in one fell swoop and immediately pour another.
“Thirsty?” He watches in astonishment as I make quick work of the second glass, nodding over the rim. “Be careful,” he warns. I’m frowning over the rim, but unable to stop gulping the icy liquid. “You might drown the babies.”
I cough a little on a laugh and place my water down to grab a napkin. “Will you stop with that?”
“What? I’m just showing some fatherly concern.” He looks hurt, but I know better.
“You don’t think I can look after our babies, do you?”
“Yes, I do,” he retorts softly, with absolutely zero conviction. He really doesn’t. I’m shocked, and my face probably shows it, even if he’s refusing to meet my eyes so he can see for himself.
“What the hell do you think I’m going to do?” I regret the question the second it falls from my mouth, even more so when his head snaps up and I’m hit with a skeptical look. “Don’t,” I warn, my voice cracking and tears of regret immediately burning the back of my eyes. I work hard to blink them back, mentally beating myself up for my cold-hearted thoughts. I feel terrible enough all on my own, without Jesse enflaming the guilt.
He’s sitting next to me in a heartbeat and pulling me into his side, stroking my back and burying his mouth into hair. “I’m sorry. Don’t get upset, please.”
“I’m okay.” I brush his concern away. It’s plain to see that I’m not okay, but I can’t lose control of my emotions in the middle of a restaurant for all to see. I’m already being stared at by a woman a few tables away. I’m in no mood for nosey parkers, so I flip her a look before pulling out of Jesse’s chest. “I said I’m fine,” I snap shortly, picking my glass up, just for something to do other than cry.
“Ava,” he says quietly, but I can’t look at him. Will he ever let me forget this? “Look at me.” He sounds harsher, firmer now, but I disobey, noticing that bloody woman still staring. I meet her eyes, enhancing my fuck off look, which quickly prompts her to return to her dinner. “Three…”