Page 112 of Over Her Dead Body

“Then what are we arguing about?”

“You working nights to get it.”

“It’s a few hours.”

“Tonight. And tomorrow?”

“If there’s work.”

“I want you here, Reid. In the place we already have.”

He reached across the table and took my hand.

“I’m doing this for us.”

I let him hold it. I loved him. I loved the table. I still wanted him to stay home.

He checked the time.

At the door, he collected his keys, then put one finger against the lower corner of our wedding photograph.

The frame tilted.

“Seriously?” I said.

He looked back at me. “You’ll miss having someone here to correct.”

“I’ll have plenty to do. Apparently, I’m married to a man who can’t leave furniture standing properly.”

He smiled. I almost did.

Then he was gone.

I straightened the photograph and went back to clear our new table.

Now, on the other side of the world, Reid is standing in front of me again.

The driver shifts beside the open car door.

“I’m going back to my hotel,” I tell him. “Alone.”

“Get on the next flight to Austin,” Reid says.

“I have another appointment here tomorrow.”

“Cancel it.”

“With what explanation?”

He steps closer.

“I’m doing this for you.”

The last time Reid used that excuse, the pronoun was us.

CHAPTER 43

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