Chapter 26: Jealousy

She absolutely did not care. Not one bit. Then another thought crept in. The fidelity clause. Her eyes narrowed.

Would Dorian actually stick to it? Six whole months. Naomi’s mouth slowly curved. It would be nice to see him suffer.

Very nice, actually. Maybe that was petty. She could live with petty. A little enforced celibacy might build character.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Naomi, it’s me."

She looked toward the door. Speak of the devil. "Coming!"

After last night, that word suddenly felt dangerous.

"I mean..." She cleared her throat. "I’ll be right there!" She grabbed her handbag from the couch, checked that her glasses were firmly in place, then hurried toward the door.

When she opened it, Dorian was standing on the other side. Top button of his shirt undone. Hair slightly less perfect than it had probably been earlier.

Apparently dinner with his gorgeous ex-wife had relaxed him. Naomi immediately disliked that thought.

"Hi," he said.

"Hello."

Dorian’s brows lifted slightly. That was not her normal greeting. Usually there were at least three unnecessary sentences attached. "How are you feeling?"

"I’m good. Come on, let’s go sign that contract." She stepped out, pulled the door shut behind her and locked it.

Before Dorian could say anything else, Naomi grabbed his wrist and started walking. He stumbled after her.

"Slow down, woman! You’ll rip my arm off!"

She kept going. "Oh, are you that pathetically delicate?"

Dorian stared at the back of her head. He knew that tone. He had been married enough times to recognize danger. "Okay. See, I have lots of experience with marriage, and I know that tone. What did I do?"

"Nothing."

"Oh boy." He hurried after her again.

Naomi reached the stairs and started down. He followed behind. Why the hell did he care if she was mad?

Maybe

Those jeans.

Jesus Christ.

Naomi was one step below him, and the denim was doing things. That ass was something else. He immediately decided this was probably the real reason he cared whether she was angry.

Far simpler explanation. Only God knew how he made it down the rest of those stairs without tripping.

Her backside was terribly distracting. She pushed through the front door and finally released his wrist. She walked toward the car as he pressed the button on his key fob.

The car beeped and unlocked. Naomi opened the passenger door. Dorian walked around to the driver’s side.

He paused before getting in. "So. What would you like for dinner? We can pick up something on the way."

"Do you always live like this?" Naomi asked.

Dorian glanced at her as he started the car. "Yes. Get used to it."

"Oh, hell no!"

He sighed. Six long months. He got into the driver’s seat. "So what do you want?"

Naomi folded her arms. "Find an open grocery store. And you’re paying."

"Naturally."

That answer seemed to annoy her too. Apparently tonight, breathing in her general direction was enough to offend her.

Within minutes, they found a grocery store still open. He expected them to be inside for ten minutes.

Maybe fifteen.

He had clearly underestimated what happened when a chef entered a grocery store. She grabbed a cart and pushed it at him.

Then she started moving through the aisles. Ingredients began appearing in the cart at alarming speed.

Some of the ingredients Dorian recognized. Others he stared at as though she had picked them from another planet.

Dorian pushed the cart behind her. Apparently that was his job now. Designated cart driver. A decade of legal education, countless criminal trials, millions of dollars in billable hours, and he had been reduced to following an angry chef through produce. He checked his watch.

Naomi moved into another aisle. They were going to spend forever here.

"Please don’t tell me you are cooking tonight."

Naomi spun around. "Tonight, tomorrow, every day of our blasted marriage!"

Dorian stopped pushing the cart. "Okay, enough. Will you tell me what I’ve done wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You have been trying to murder me with your attitude since I picked you up."

"I’m perfectly pleasant." She picked up a head of cauliflower and examined it.

"Lady, if you don’t start talking, I’m walking out of this store and you’re paying for all that shit by your damn self."

Naomi calmly put the cauliflower into the cart. "Then we will both starve."

"Naomi. Please just tell me."

Naomi looked back at him. He was visibly exhausted with the entire situation.

"It’s stupid."

"I agree."

Her eyes narrowed.

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry." Dorian lifted both hands slightly in surrender. "I’m sure you have a reasonable reason why you’re mad at me. I promise to be considerate and put your feelings first."

"Did one of your ex-wives teach you that?"

"Can we focus on the current wife, please?"

Naomi folded her arms. "Fine! You kept me waiting while you were with your ex-wife. What exactly is the point of this marriage if you’re going to keep running back to her? Is your plan to have her secretly on the side while I’m living in your house pretending to be your wife? Because if that is your plan, then maybe you should have mentioned that before putting a fidelity clause in the contract, and technically that would make the entire thing ridiculous because then I would be expected to—"

Dorian stepped forward. Naomi was still talking when his finger landed gently against her lips. "Sssshhh. There is a very simple explanation." He slowly removed his hand. "I went there to tell her to stand down. To keep your name out of her mouth."

The irritation drained out of her face.

"Oh. Oh... uh..." She cleared her throat. "Thank you? I thought..."

"Yes, I gathered what you thought."

Naomi turned toward the shelves again. He probably should have left it there.

Instead—

"Were you jealous?"

Naomi nearly dropped the jar she had just picked up. "No."

Dorian decided not to push his luck. Mostly because there were glass bottles nearby and Naomi seemed exactly like the sort of woman who might accidentally-on-purpose test whether one bounced. "Anyways, It’s my circus...No use dragging you into it. Now, what else do you need in this damned place before I grow older than I already am?"

Ten more torturous minutes passed before Naomi finally declared herself finished. He had never been so happy to see a checkout counter.

He stood behind her while groceries moved along the belt. There seemed to be enough food to cater a wedding. "Are we feeding people I don’t know about? why do we need all this?"