He’s gazing at me, but it’s obvious he’s not paying attention to any of the words I’m saying.
“Ethan!”
He blinks.
“I’m going to lunch. You’re impossible.”
He grabs my hand. “Have lunch with me.”
“No. I want to meet Iris. We talked about it this morning. And you and I aren’t taking our relationship public so?—”
“Because you don’t want it to be public.” He frowns. “Not me. I’m not the one ashamed of our relationship.”
I go still. “I’m not ashamed.”
He releases my hand. “Are you sure about that? Because I have no problem letting everybody know that we are involved.”
“Involved?” I look at him. “What are we, Ethan? Am I your girlfriend? Am I your lover? Or am I the woman living in your house and carrying your child? Which do you think sounds better when telling everybody?”
He reaches out with his fingers and intertwines them with mine, pulling me forward into his lap. “I don’t like the word girlfriend. I’m too old to have a girlfriend. Simply calling you my lover seems disrespectful.”
My mouth is dry as he studies my fingers, playing with them. “How about fiancée, or future wife? I like those terms.”
My heart flutters in my chest. “What?”
“I like fiancée.”
“It’s only been a few months since we’ve met again,” I stammer. “I’m not your fiancée.”
“Then future wife?” He wraps his arms around my waist. “I always liked the idea of promise rings as a boy. Maybe I can give you one of those, but with a diamond.”
“That’s an engagement ring,” I protest.
“Is it?” His lips curve. “I wouldn’t know.”
“An engagement is too fast. We agreed to a year together.”
“Then, future wife, it is.”
“It’s the same, Ethan!” I complain, flustered. “I don’t want to move this fast. What if?—?”
The words get stuck in my throat.
He watches me. “Finish that sentence.”
“Nothing. I should go?—”
He doesn’t let me move. “Let me finish that sentence for you, then. What if I get bored of you and leave? Is that what you were going to say?”
I wet my lips. “No, I mean?—”
“We can go get married right now,” he says calmly. “Will that reassure you that I’m playing for keeps here? We can get a marriage license at the city clerk’s office. We can register our marriage there?—”
“That’s enough!” My body feels cold. “Why are you talking like that? Marriage is a serious business.”
“And so am I about you.” He raises a brow. “You’re the one who needs reassurance. I’m willing to provide it.”
I stare at him. I could call him out on this bluff, but I have a sinking sensation in my stomach that he might actually do it. Given his track record, there’s nothing I can put past him.
