Method(45)

“Thanks, Dame,” I say, sitting back in my seat.

“I’m so proud of you. I know I tell you from time to time but to witness all you’ve done, it’s such an incredible gift.”

“Oh, now you’re trying for that anniversary gift?”

She gives me a wink. “Yes. I wonder what it is this year.” She pulls her phone off the table and starts to Google.

“Last year was easy and readily available.” I bite my lip around the word, “wood.”

She rolls her eyes and studies her phone. “It’s iron or candy for six years. But honey, next year is copper, all you’ll have to do is pull one of those pennies you’ve been pinching out of your ass.” She bats her eyes at me as I burst into laughter.

“I’m not that cheap.”

“We did a timeshare honeymoon!”

“It was not! I got the place on loan from a friend,” I defend.

“And it was his timeshare.”

“It was beautiful.”

“It was,” she says with a grin. “It was perfect. I would not change a damn thing.”

“Me neither.” The ocean crashes beneath us as I try to come up with the right words, but she watches me closely while I shift in my seat.

“Shit,” she says softly. “Shit, this is it? Isn’t it?”

I nod.

“Okay,” she sighs, turning to face the darkening sky. She’s so incredibly beautiful that I just stare at her features in wait. “I knew today was too good to be true.”

“I have to focus, baby.”

A different silence, one filled with tension passes before she speaks. “This is so weird,” she says before taking a sip of her wine. “Saying goodbye to a man you’re still living with.”

“I don’t get to clock out.”

“I know.”

“It’s too hard for me,” I plead with her. “I can’t be a cold-blooded killer one minute and a doting husband the next. I have to start isolating a little. We’re going to shoot some in El Paso, I think, so you’ll get a break, but Wes guaranteed a lot will be shot locally. So, I’ll be home for at least half of it.

“Okay.”

“Dame—”

She cuts me off and her venom burns. “You know, you’ve spent a lot of time telling me how it’s okay for you to feel how you want to. Let me fucking feel the way I want about this. I don’t want my husband to have to sit behind closed doors digging into his brain for things that bother him. I don’t want to miss you when you’re sleeping right next to me. I don’t want to spend three months as a fucking outsider looking into your life, unaware of what’s going on in your head. I agreed to it, and I’ll keep my end of the bargain, but I don’t have to like going through it. So just give me a second.” She turns her head away from me, one arm crossed protectively over her body while the other holds her wine glass.

“Okay,” I say, rising from my seat and walking into the house, sliding the patio door closed behind me. I want to beg for her forgiveness but now isn’t the time. I need her on board, I need her to stick to our plan, but I need her more than anything to make peace with it. After changing into my gym clothes, I peek out on the balcony to see her reading the script. The salty breeze catches her hair pulling it away from her face, and I can see she’s focused, so I take the stairs down to wait for her.





“I’m sorry, I keep going back on my promises,” I hear her say as she pads into the gym where I’m pounding at the bag. I’ll have to drop at least twenty to look like a younger Nikki, and up my workouts.

“I broke my promise too,” I say, slowing my pace. “We’re supposed to be in Spain in the La Rioja region tasting wine.”

She smiles. “I love that you remember my wine ramblings.”

“We’re a team,” I say, stilling the bag to focus on her.

“It’s fantastic, Lucas. Bold, captivating, and a bit horrific. This is your part.”

“Fuck, I love you,” I say, hanging my head. “Thank you, baby.”

She keeps her tone upbeat. “We’ll get to Spain. Besides, Rayo is a Spanish surname. Looks like you’re bringing a little Spanish to me.”

I scoop her into my arms. “Yeah, well, variety is the spice of life.”

“Lucky me,” she says as she looks down at our position. “This is familiar,” she says, wrapping her hands around my neck and pressing her forehead to mine. “Do you remember scooping me up like this on my porch?”

“Of course.”

“Well, you forget a lot,” she scorns.

“I haven’t forgotten that,” I assure her, stealing a kiss before I carry her up the stairs. “Now, who wants some more of last year’s anniversary present?”





“Lucas,” Mila whispers as she trails the pads of her fingers down my back. “You awake?”

“Yes. What’s up, baby?”

In response, she slowly traces the first line of an X and draws out the word, “Criiiissss.”

“No, you don’t.” I jerk against the mattress to dodge her fingers. “You know that creeps me out.”