Between Commitment and Betrayal (Hardy Billionaire Brothers, #1)(73)

I’d feel some way about that for the rest of my life, but I couldn’t focus on that now. “I’m still me and you’re still you. What kind of man would I be if I let another man dictate the relationship I have with my wife?”

I felt her body shaking and realized she was laughing at me as I made my way out of the guesthouse and up the stone driveway. “You can’t let anyone rule your world, can you?”

“Why should I when I built it? Now, you’re not following the rules. We had a breakfast and dinner plan for the rest of the marriage, and you went against your commitment.”

She huffed and stopped fighting as I stomped back into my place. I set her down at the white granite countertop and placed the food in front of her.

“Did you make this?” She lifted an eyebrow.

“What? Is it not good enough?” I spun around and grabbed bacon out of the fridge. “We should have protein too.”

She narrowed her eyes, bluer than the blue of my jersey, and then stood. “I can help.”

“Stay on that side of the island or I’ll be eating you for breakfast instead.”

She sat back down with a huff but a small smile played on her lips.

“Good girl.” I winked at her and started cooking.

“Stipulations are a week away, Declan. And the press is—”

“Handled. Let’s enjoy breakfast and the day, huh?”

She didn’t argue. Maybe we were both tired of the bullshit, maybe we were escaping into the bubble that was our gated home. It didn’t matter because I had her there, weaving calm into the flurry of emotions in my head.

“You actually are a decent cook,” she said as she crunched into a piece of crispy bacon I set on her plate. “And you make sure the bacon isn’t floppy.”

“Are you surprised?” I questioned. “My mom is a good cook. She stayed home because nobody was going to give her a job as an immigrant with an accent where I grew up, so she perfected what she did there.”

“I read they both immigrated here. You’re a rags-to-riches story,” she admitted, and I lifted my brow because Everly never went online. It was one thing I respected about her. “Yes, I finally looked you up.”

“And what did you find?”

“You’re about as big as your ego, which is massive. You’ve got the world in a choke hold with everything you do. The HEAT brand does well because of you. I stopped reading when they went into your NFL stats and history.”

I rolled my eyes because she never wanted to know a damn thing about the sport. “You going to watch some of the preseason games with me? They’re starting up next week.”

She chuckled. “Nope.” Then, she studied me. “You know, it’s a bit scary how you can touch something and it’s like Oprah endorsing it. Have you thought about that? I guess you look the part and act it though, so it makes sense.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You look like the all-American boy, and you probably acted all macho in the NFL. People like that sort of thing.” She waved me off like everyone in the world loving me was ridiculous.

“What the fuck?” I ground out, annoyed she wasn’t more in awe of me like most of the women before her. And yet, I went to sit down next to her, trying to get as close as possible. “I worked hard to get where I am.”

“You also have a pretty face with a lot of muscles, dark hair, light eyes, good bone structure. People trust men like you. The media eats that up.”

“So, you’re saying I got to where I am based solely on my looks. All the touchdowns, workouts, training, schmoozing, and the amount of asses I had to kiss did nothing for me?” I heard myself getting irritated. “I worked fucking hard to get here.”

“No doubt. But even if I had worked that hard, I probably wouldn’t be where you are.”

“I—” Thinking about it, I snapped my mouth shut. “Fair.”

“Did you retire just because of your wrist?” she murmured as I wiggled it a bit before taking another bite of my food.

“Not really.” I shook my head. “Maybe more because of the press behind it. And my sister had a kid. My family’s always been important to me, and I just …” I shrugged as I stared at her. “Do you want kids?”

“Kids?” Her blue eyes widened before she glanced down at her plate. “Sure. I guess. Probably one day. But, like, a lot. Not just one.”

I choked on my food. “Why a lot?”

“You have sisters and brothers! I didn’t.” She shoved my arm like she didn’t want me making fun of her. “Was it a lot growing up with all six of you in one home?”

“Hell yes. Especially when I wanted the bathroom over the twins. My sisters are fucking brats.” I chuckled. “No, they really aren’t. They all have their demons. You’ve seen how Dom walks around. His ass is the oldest, and it’s like he’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders. My mom and dad put pressure on him to make sure we all were okay. Izzy and Lilah are married off to— Well, you know … but they love my sisters, so I can’t say much.”

“Cade would die for Izzy,” she said longingly. “I want a husband like that with a bunch of babies.”

“But you like the quiet.”