Beneath This Man (This Man, #2)(136)

‘I’ll be five minutes-ish.’

‘Ish.’ he mouths and leans in to bite my ear. ‘Be quick.’ He slaps my bum and leaves me again.

A huge smile spreads across my flushed face. I said yes. I have absolutely no doubts, none at all. I belong with Jesse, it just is. How crazy.

I resume teeth brushing duties, have a quick shower and shave before grabbing his dress shirt from the floor and putting it on with some jersey shorts. I cross the landing and remember the post that I’ve still not given to Jesse. Taking a quick detour to the cream room, I grab the post from the unit before taking the stairs, ignoring the fact that I have been away from him for twenty minutes-ish and I miss him already.

I find him in the kitchen with his finger in a jar of peanut butter while he looks intently at the screen of his laptop. I perform my usual look of disgust at the jar of peanut butter and my usual swoon at this beautiful man, before sitting myself on the stool opposite him.

‘Here, I forgot to give you these.’ I hand him the post and pour myself some orange juice.

‘You open them.’

I spot my car keys on the worktop. ‘My car’s back?’

‘John dropped it off.’ he says, continuing to study whatever he has on the screen of his computer. I smile to myself and the image of Big John driving my little Mini. ‘Are you religious?’ he asks casually.

I frown into my juice. ‘No.’

‘Me either. Do you have any preference on dates?’

‘What for?’ I ask. I sound confused, which is fine because I am.

He looks up at me with a heavy frown. ‘Is there any particular date you would like to become Mrs Ava Ward?’

Oh? ‘I don’t know,’ I shrug. ‘Next year, the year after.’ I grab some toast and start buttering. He only asked me half an hour ago. I need a chance to wake up properly. There is plenty of time for all of that, and I need to speak to my parents, for a start.

He drops his jar of peanut butter on the marble island, making me jump. ‘Next year?’ he exclaims, with a look of pure disgust.

‘Okay, the year after.’ Next year is a bit soon, I suppose. I cut my toast in half and wrap my teeth around a corner.

‘The year after?’ he blurts.

I look at him and find his handsome face contorted in total disbelief. I really don’t mind. The year after that then, it’s no bother to me. I shrug and carry on chewing my toast.

His expression morphs into a scowl. ‘We get married next month.’ He picks up his jar and shoves his finger in aggressively. ‘Next f*cking year.’ he mutters, shaking his head.

I nearly choke on my toast, and then chew frantically to rid my mouth of it. Next month? Is he mad? ‘Jesse, I can’t marry you next month!’

‘Yes you can and you will.’ he snaps without looking at me.

I withdraw slightly. I’ve not even told my Mum and Dad that I’m living with him, let alone marrying him. I need time. ‘No, I can’t.’ I half laugh. He has to be joking.

His fierce eyes fly to mine and he smacks his jar down. It makes me jump again. ‘Excuse me?’ he says, his voice genuinely shocked.

‘Jesse, my parents don’t even really know about you. You can’t expect me to call them up and break this sort of news down the phone.’ I silently beg for him to be reasonable. I’ve seen that face plenty of times and it always suggests that he’s not budging.

‘We’ll go and see them. I’m not * footing around, Ava.’

I take a nervous sip of my orange juice while he drills displeased eyes into me. The thought of introducing Jesse to my parents fills me with dread, and what do I tell them he does for a living? His suggestion of telling them that he owns a hotel won’t wash forever.

I wilt under his fierce gaze, but I have to hold my own here. ‘You’re being unreasonable.’ I protest quietly. We couldn’t organise a wedding in a month, anyway. I take another bite of my toast and soak up the resentment emanating from every pore of my challenging man.

‘Do you love me?’ he asks sharply.

I look at him with narrowed eyes. ‘Don’t ask stupid questions.’ He’s impossible sometimes.

‘Good,’ he grunts with utter finality, returning his attention to his laptop. ‘I love you too. We get married next month.’

I drop my toast in exasperation. ‘Jesse, I’m not marrying you next month.’ I get up from my stool and take my plate to the bin to get rid of my half eaten breakfast. I’ve completely lost my appetite.

‘Come here.’ he growls to my back.

I swing around to face him, finding the fierceness is back. What’s wrong with waiting? It’s only a year or two. I’m not going anywhere. ‘No.’ I toss at him. His eyes widen. ‘And you are not going to be f*cking an agreement out of me. Forget it.’ I’m standing my ground here. Start as you mean to go on and all that. I’m not very confident, admittedly, but I’ll try my hardest to fight him on this.

‘Watch your f*cking mouth, Ava.’ His face screws up and his lips press into a straight line as he pins me with his glare. ‘Three.’

‘Oh no!’ I laugh. ‘Don’t even think about it!’ I start scanning the kitchen to plan my escape route, but with him nearer the exit than me, I’m facing immanent capture.