Wife for the Weekend by Ophelia London

Author:Ophelia London
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: contemporary romance; Entangled; Bliss; Ophelia London; sweet romance; romance; contemporary; Vegas; Las Vegas; wedding; bet; opposites attract; reformed bad boy; accidental marriage; fake marriage; fake relationship
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2016-07-21T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Jules was pulling the whistling kettle off the flame when she heard a tap at the back door. Grinning Roxy was waving through the glass. What was she doing here? It was barely 7:00 a.m. After making her heart stop racing from surprise, Jules smiled and opened the door.

“Good morning.”

“Morning!” Roxy gave her a one-armed hug, because her other arm was carrying a rolled-up yoga mat. “You ready?”

“For…?”

“Sunrise yoga. We talked about it yesterday before you left the wedding. Remember?”

Jules had a vague recollection of it, but couldn’t remember actually inviting her curious sister-in-law to the cottage. Though she must have. There were so many lies flying around, she couldn’t remember all of them.

“Am I too early?” Roxy frowned. “Is Dex still in bed asleep?”

Jules’s Lemon Zinger shook in her hands, splashing over the sides of the cup. “Um, no, he’s…” Casually glancing past Roxy, she peered into the living room. The back of the red velvet couch faced the kitchen and two sets of fingers curled around its top. Between them was the upper half of Dexter’s head, wide-eyed, staring at her over the couch like Kilroy.

Crappity-crap. Roxy could not discover that Dexter had slept on the couch. She’d blab it all over town, and Quent would sue Jules for false…something or other, then take her house.

“Hey,” she said to Roxy, “would you bring me another tea bag? They’re in the ceramic Elvis on the counter.” While Roxy’s back was turned, Jules pantomimed wildly at Dexter to stay down and sneak out of the room. He understood her gestures because a second later, Kilroy was gone and on all fours, crawling across the shag rug.

“Do you have coffee?” Roxy asked.

Jules bolted to her side and threw an arm around her, making sure she kept turned the other way. “Coffee? Sure, yeah. Grams didn’t drink it, but she always kept a can of freeze-dried on hand for guests. Um…” She tapped her chin in deep thought. “Let me think a minute where it might be. Hmmm. Why don’t you check the pantry—no, wait!” She jerked Roxy in the other direction when she saw Dexter’s reflection in the window, crawling toward the bedroom. “I think we’re out. Right, yeah, sorry. No coffee, but tea galore. Have a cup?”

“Sure,” Roxy said, stepping back and stretching her neck to the side like Jules had given her whiplash. “Dex? What are you doing down there?”

Quel busted.

“He’s, um, stretching! Aren’t you, baby?” Jules shot him a look that said to follow her lead. “It’s the child’s pose, see?” Why wasn’t he moving into position? How could he not know the child’s pose?

“Right,” Dexter said, kind of twisting his back while lifting one hand off the floor.

“That’s not child’s,” Roxy said.

“He likes to combine poses—he’s very advanced.” Jules smiled dotingly. “You can get off the floor now, sweetie pie. Enough stretching.”

Dexter dropped his chin and stared at the floor for a minute, then exhaled and stood, brushing off his knees. His hair was sticking straight up and sleep lines from the pillow striped his cheek.

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