Damien
There was a spread with fresh fruit, cod, and more coffee on the balcony table. The ocean breeze was warm and comforting.
"So," Kayla said, poking at a piece of pineapple. "How long do you think we’ll last before one of us 'accidentally' pushes the other off a yacht? Is that in the contract, or do we wait for the one-year mark?"
I leaned back, enjoying the view of the water—and her. "I give it six months before you realize you can’t live without my charming personality. By month eight, you’ll be the one insisting on the matching silk pajamas and the golden retriever."
"Matching pajamas?" She scoffed, pointing her fork at me. "In your dreams, Blackwood. Our marriage is going to be a series of very expensive arguments punctuated by me spending your money on things you hate. I’m
