Chapter 6
I didn’t expect that the first time I’d see Ryan after our separation would be at a bar.
Rachel was attracting attention from a few guys, and the ever–proud CEO didn’t hesitate to throw down in a full–blown bar fight.
I watched it unfold like a scene in a reality show until he saw me.
Just my luck. His team arrived quickly to handle the mess.
He tossed the silk handkerchief he’d used to wipe his hands and told his secretary to take Rachel back to the car.
Then, without another word, he walked straight toward me.
His cold, unreadable gaze flicked to Jason, who stood beside me.
Clearly, he remembered him.
Not surprising. Once you’ve seen Jason, you don’t forget.
It wasn’t just the ridiculously handsome face. He was tall, broad- shouldered, lean at the waist, with a sculpted torso that his crisp white shirt could barely hide.
I personally handpicked him, after all.
Ryan narrowed his eyes. “Did you send those guys after her?” he asked, brows furrowed.
I let out a sharp laugh and slid an arm around Jason’s waist. “Please. You think I have that kind of free time?”
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Chapter 6
His expression darkened immediately. The air around him dropped several degrees.
He kept his composure, but I could see how hard he was holding back. That quiet pride of his kept his voice steady. “I was just asking,” he said flatly. “Glad it wasn’t you. For a second, I thought you were jealous enough to do something reckless.”
I didn’t bother responding. I grabbed my purse, laced my fingers through Jason’s, and turned to leave. “That’s enough drinks for one night. Let’s go
home.”
What I didn’t expect was that Jason was even more wicked than I was.
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He slid his arm firmly around my waist, leaned down with a devilish smirk, and whispered just loud enough to be heard. “We’re out of the last box. Want me to pick up more on the way?”
I froze. My ears instantly turned bright red.
The car door swung open coldly, and Ryan slipped in beside me.
The car was quiet. “I know,” he said eventually. “You chose him just to get under my skin.
“Julia.” He said my name the same way he always had.
“I’m sending Rachel to Canada tomorrow. Her new term starts soon. When I’m back, let’s talk. Really talk.”
He reached over and took my hand, holding it tight, his eyes locked on mine. “Let’s go back to how it used to be. Please.”
I thought of that moment a couple of weeks ago in my office when he had looked at me just like this and said, “Come home early tonight. What do you want to eat? I’ll cook it just for you.”
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Back then, I actually believed we could start over.
But I’d already told him. Lie to me one more time, and I’ll never forgive
you.
I gave him a faint smile. “Sure. When you’re back, let’s have that talk.”
Let’s talk about divorce.
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