Jameson Fox

By: Nina Levine


“You are mine, for twelve months, and you need to get used to that.”

Determination bleeds from her as she says, “The only one of us who needs to get used to anything is you. Don’t go to battle for me again.”

She turns and walks away from me, into the restroom.

Unable to let this go, I stride after her, finding her standing at the sink when I enter the bathroom.

Her gaze meets mine in the mirror when I move behind her.

She doesn’t say a word; she simply issues a challenge with those beautiful eyes of hers.

I bend my mouth to her ear. “I am your husband now, Adeline, and I will act accordingly. Any man who comes near you will have my eye on him. And any man who treats you the way Ian did will be made to understand never to do it again.” I snake my arm around her waist and pull her hard against me. “You can tell me not to fight your battles, but you don’t have a hope in hell of me listening to you.” My voice drops low as I add, “In time, you will learn I am not a man who can be told what to do.”

She shoots daggers at me in the mirror. “Take your hands off me.”

I glide my hand across her stomach, splaying my fingers against the smooth material of her dress. I move slowly, deliberately. Adeline needs to understand I will never be a man who acts on demand.

Her breathing slows as her anger intensifies.

Desire too.

It’s written all over her.

White hot anger and desire all mixed together, raging between us, meeting my own anger and desire.

We do the dance we’re becoming adept at.

The push and pull.

The refusal to give an inch.

Neither of us speak another word.

We simply wait each other out.

In the end, she grabs my hands and forcibly removes them from her body before stalking out of the bathroom with one last glare at me.

As I promised, she will learn.

I’ll allow her to win some of our battles, but only when it suits me.





5





Adeline





Natalie: I saw your Insta stories tonight. Why must MA look so good in a suit?

I stretch my legs out in front of me on the bed I now share with Jameson and reply to her text. It’s just after 1:00 a.m. which is a time we often catch up after the events of the day. We both struggle with sleep, so this nightly debrief sometimes helps with that.

Adeline: He doesn’t. He doesn’t look good in anything.

Natalie: I see we’ve moved back to the first stage of grief.

Adeline: I’m in all the stages of grief at fucking once right now. Oh wait, no, I’m not in the last stage. I’ll never accept any of this. Seriously, the man is unbearable. I have no idea how he has that long line of women he’s dated behind him.

Natalie: Not to mention the long line still waiting. I accidentally tapped his Insta hashtag tonight. I can’t wrap my head around how many women post about him.

Adeline: Accidentally?

Natalie: Okay, so that was a lie. I was curious.

Adeline: Ugh, please talk to me about anything other than my husband. I had to survive hours of him tonight and let’s just say he’s lucky to still be breathing.

Natalie: I thought you were going to Brax’s club by yourself?

Adeline: I was, but Jameson didn’t want me to go. I stood my ground and ended up with him along for the ride.

A text comes through from Vanessa, my assistant. We’ve been going back and forth all night with work stuff. Vanessa works almost as many hours as I do.

Vanessa: I just realized your meeting with Jenna has been scheduled for Tuesday, not tomorrow.

Jenna Pearce and I are in the early stages of putting together our plans for the fashion company we’re building together. I asked Vanessa to schedule a meeting for tomorrow and confirmed with her earlier when she came over that it was going ahead. She assured me it was.

Adeline: Why is it scheduled for Tuesday?

Perhaps Jenna can’t make it tomorrow.

I try to give Vanessa the benefit of the doubt, but she’s been making a lot of mistakes recently, so I’m finding this hard.

Vanessa: I apologize. This was my error. I can call her first thing in the morning and see if she can change it.

I quickly check my calendar, noting that I don’t have even a spare five-minute slot during my day. There’s no other time I can meet with Jenna. I had her down for a 9:00 a.m. meeting; I highly doubt she’ll be able to rearrange her own day to make that happen at such late notice.

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