Page 330 of The Romance Adventure
I want him to be more annoyed, so I can double down on my plan to push him away, but he remains patient, kind, and sweet. I even find a fresh bottle of my favorite bath soap from Morocco in the bathroom, along with a new set of the fluffiest towels in the world.
After I do battle with myself in the shower because I cannot come clean with the truth, I change into dry clothes and find CJ downstairs with a maritime map on the counter and a sextant in his hand.
I cue up the lies, but get distracted when his eyes softly land on me when I enter the room.
“Have you been diving recently?” I ask.
“Not lately, but we’re looking for an old ship.”
“Always hunting for treasure.” I peer over his shoulder at the nautical map.
“How about you? Did you sell that last property?” I let CJ think that I’m a real estate agent, though I never said that specifically. We were looking for island property at the time. Well, I was seeking clues. It kind of came out and stuck.
I am an agent. Just not that kind.
Well, I work for an agency. Technically, I’m an officer. People often get agents and officers mixed up and we all know being a secret agent sounds cooler. But I am an officer. You might even say a spy. How could I not be with a last name like Bond? I’m often asked if there’s a relationship. I always have a vague laugh at the ready.
Am I known for blurring the lines between truth and lies? I won’t tell.
“I made a few unexpected scores and I’ll probably have to leave again soon. I just came back for my shoe collection.” The scripted words fall out of my mouth and I hate them, but it must be done. I have to end things.
I can’t bear to see CJ’s face when I speak, so I look down. Ironic, because here I am barefoot.
He’s quiet for a long moment. “I’m heading out of town soon, too. Have to check out a property my grandfather owned. Maybe you can come with me and help me assess it for the market in case my sister wants to sell.”
I close my eyes because the word yes is on my lips. Instead, I say, “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. You know what they say about working with family.”
“She’s in New York. You’ve never met her. I’d hardly say she’s family, especially if you plan to walk right out the door barefoot, but with your shoe collection packed up.” He could’ve loaded those words with bitterness, but as always, he’s lighthearted as if we’re joking. Probably, he hopes that’s the case.
His comment finds its way under my feet and I feel like I’m standing on hot coals. They burn, sting, smart. I have to hit back.
“I take it you told your brothers that you’re married.” I am certain that he did not.
CJ winces. “I tried, but—”
I can’t get too mad because I haven’t told him about my job and with no family to speak of, well, none that know my identity, it’s not exactly a fair situation.
The night before I left for my so-called business trip, CJ mentioned that I should finally meet his brothers. For some reason, we both kept putting it off.
Me, because it makes this more real.
Him, because his brothers tease him.
However, I’d like to think it was because we wanted to remain in our newlywed bubble and not invite anyone else in.
Then he got a strange letter from his grandfather and every time it came up, the tension between us would tighten and we’d end up bickering about the big family meet-up.
CJ, seated at a counter stool, gazes at his hands. “Are we still mad at each other?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
“You’re the one who kept telling me that meeting the family wasn’t a big deal, then found a reason that it was a bad time every time.”
“But you hadn’t even told them we’d gotten married.”
“Until recently, my brothers and I weren’t on warm and fuzzy terms.”
“I’d think the first step in the process would be telling them the good news, you know, verbally before we show up on the doorsteps.” I’m still working through my rejection issues.
