Chapter 4
DEVIN
I’m glad that we’re seated with Eva and Mark at dinner. They’re warm and chatty, and it’s easy to keep the conversation flowing. I don't think Laila and I are ready yet for Callan or her scrutiny.
I saw the almost suspicious way she was eyeing Laila. What was that about? Maybe because she doesn't know Laila? Because I've not really mentioned my beautiful, amazing wife?
Laila truly is fantastic. She manages to chat to anyone about anything, even though I've occasionally noticed that she takes a deep breath and a long blink before starting new topics, as if forcing herself to be brave.
I love that she's doing that. It feels like this experience might be good for her. But I certainly don't want to push her out of her comfort zone before she's ready, or put her in any uncomfortable situations.
As dinner is winding up, Jim and Callan grab up their wine glasses and start circulating, chatting with everyone. They are just coming up behind us as Eva asks, "So, Laila, you never said – what do you do?"
I've noticed that Laila doesn't talk about herself a lot, so I reach out and take her hand. "She's an incredible editor."
"Ha! More precisely, I'm an editor with an incredible job.” Laila smiles.
"I work for Pulsar Press – it’s a sci-fi and fantasy literary press and website.
I'm also one of the judges for their annual awards.
So I get to read like crazy, taking notes on all the submissions and also reading the comparable best sellers in those genres for reference.
" She squeezes my hand back. “It's a quiet little job and it doesn't pay much, but it's incredibly important to the literary community and I love it. "
Mark turns toward us. "Pulsar? I've heard of them." He turns to Eva. "Your nephew Josh's Christmas wish list usually includes their books of the year, doesn't it?"
Eva's eyes grow wide. "Of course! I knew I’d heard of it." She smiles at Laila. "Personally, I'm not into spaceships and dragons, but anything that gets people reading is ok in my books. Pun totally intended."
Laila lights up. "That's the thing, though – sci-fi and fantasy stories are ultimately about people. Every good story is about the characters. The only difference is that in those genres, authors can put their characters anywhere they like to see how they react."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Callan lean in. "I never thought of it that way. That sounds interesting," she says. "I'll have to get some book recommendations from you, Laila."
Laila beams. "Fair warning – once you get me talking about books, you'd better settle in. It might be a few hours."
Everyone laughs, and Callan and Jim move along to the next table. When Eva and Mark begin some lighthearted argument about which of their cooking is closer to the fabulous food here at the chalet I lean in to whisper to Laila, "I love your job. It's interesting and important."
"You mean important to a small subset of readers in a niche genre."
"I mean important to me, because you clearly love it so much."
"How can you tell?" she whispers, her eyes twinkling. "You don't even know if I'm a good editor or not."
"I know your beautiful eyes light up when you're talking about your work." I can't stop myself: my hand reaches up to cup her face. “I love that you’re so passionate about what you do.”
We're so close together that the urge to kiss her perfect lips floods my entire body. There’s a flicker in her eyes that makes me wonder if she wants me to kiss her.
But not right here, not right now.
A deep sense of yearning washes through me. I cannot wait until we’re totally alone. I need to kiss Laila. Need to feel her hands on my skin. Need to hear her sigh as I… Dammit. I need to control my thoughts before she reads them on my face.
"You're going to have to explain more about your work later tonight," she breathes near my ear. "All this stockbroker talk is flying right over my head."
"No problem."
The evening wraps up early, since most people are tired after the long drive.
When we return to our room, I can see Laila's nervousness when she glances at the queen-size bed taking up a good part of the space.
I make a small fire, just enough to last half an hour or so, while she changes in the bathroom.
I’m hit with another surge of lust when she emerges wearing a baggy blue t-shirt and silky blue shorts covered in snowflakes.
I can’t help staring at the soft outline of her braless breasts.
The graceful curve of her slightly wide hips.
Her beauty is gentle. Timeless. I’m already infatuated with every eyelash and the way her lips curl so easily into a smile.
Keeping my hands to myself is going to be a challenge. Yet given she's doing me this huge favor, I need to be extremely careful. Especially since she's stranded out here on a mountain, basically alone in this crowd of people.
"Cute snowflakes," I say with a slight grin.
I change in the bathroom as well, pulling on a threadbare t-shirt and baggy pajama pants that I've cut off at the knee.
Laila laughs when she sees me. "I thought that stockbrokers made decent money. You haven't bought yourself decent pajamas?"
I stick my bottom lip out. "In my family, buying me pajamas is my mother's department.
Every Christmas I get two new sets which I promptly donate to charity.
" I slip into bed beside her. "I don't have the heart to tell her I get incredibly overheated at night and really don't wear them unless it’s truly freezing. "
She bursts into laughter. "So what you're saying is that you usually sleep naked."
"In the winter I wear boxers. Sometimes."
She laughs even harder. After she settles down, she adds, "Well, I appreciate you making an effort for my sake."
I pull the sheet up to my chin, my eyes wide. "I also can't have you judging me on how little time I've had to work out recently. What if my pecs aren't toned enough for my beautiful wife's liking? She might leave me."
Laila giggles, then turns to look at the fire. "It really is cozy here. So much better than my house full of people and cameras."
"But it's your family. It can't really be that bad, can it?"
She sighs deeply. "Megan is completely obsessed with fixing me up with her fiancé's best friend, Bryce."
It feels like my entire body wants to growl, but I restrain myself. "You don't like the guy?"
She turns to shoot me a dark look over her shoulder.
"Would you like someone who never stops bragging about how rich their father is, and who openly pities people who have to work for a living?
Someone who describes what I do as “a cute girl job”?
Someone who feels free to put their hands all over me when the cameras are out, using the excuse that it's just for the photo and he didn't mean it? "
My voice drops. "When we get back, and I drop you off at your house, I would like you to introduce me to this…person."
I pronounce the word person the same way I would cockroach. Or vermin.
Laila's eyes sparkle. "Is my new husband that overprotective already?"
"Damn right." I'm not a violent person, but the thought of any man touching this lovely young lady against her will makes me need to…Well, let’s just say visions of my hand wrapping around a stranger's throat just before I toss him into a wall spring to mind. That surprises me a little.
"Speaking of which," I say gently. “This is a large bed. But if I accidentally bump into you in my sleep, please, I beg you – push me away. Kick me. Poke me with an elbow. Whatever it takes. Don't think for a second that you have to be polite. Okay?"
"Deal. Now…" She lies on her back, her hair fanned out across the pillow. "Could you please explain your industry to me in a way I'll understand? If we've been married for a bit, I must know something about your work."
If Laila only knew how beautiful she is, and the amount of concentration it is going to take for me to run through Stock Markets 101 while staring at her lovely lips and sparkling eyes.
This weekend is going to be an exercise in self-control. Discipline.
Even though I'm going to be thinking up every possible excuse to be close to my sweet fake wife.