Kate glanced from me to her stepdad and gave a little nod. In less than a minute, I was alone with my wife. I stood on the porch and she didn’t move from her spot on the grass.

“Hi,” I said.

She pushed her hair off her face, but half of it fell over her eye again. “What’s going on?”

“We should talk.”

She crossed her arms. In typical Kate fashion, there wasn’t an ounce of cleavage showing, but my gaze was drawn to her breasts anyway. It’d always been drawn to her breasts since the first time I’d seen her. I’d always been drawn to her tits, and when she was naked and underneath me it was hard to keep my brain powered up enough to keep from doing anything but staring at them.

“You had a chance to look at the papers?”

Fuck the papers. “Not yet.”

She blinked and shoved her hair behind her ears. She didn’t wear much makeup normally, but today she didn’t have an ounce on. The natural beauty that made her stand out in a crowd kept me riveted.

“Then what’s wrong?” she asked.

I took the steps down to the cement landing and kept going until I reached her, my athletic shoes crunching through the grass. “I know the timing looked bad, and no, I wasn’t going to let that money go to the neighbors when Mama left it for us, but us—you and me—it wasn’t about that.”

If I’d expected her to fall into my arms, it wasn’t working. Her gaze grew guarded. “You’re going to have a hard time convincing me of that when fifty million’s riding on the divorce. I told you I don’t want it.”

“I don’t either. I’d rather have you.”

She took a step back, creating more distance between us. “You had four years to show me that you wanted to be with me. You did everything but be with me.”

“I can change.”

She worked her lower lip between her teeth and stared at the ground between us. What was she thinking?

“Please believe me, Kate.” I didn’t know what else to ask. I didn’t know how else to ask. Please look at me like you have been since I first saw you. The way only you ever do.

I was so far out of my element. There was a reason I’d left my messy emotions in my childhood.

“And then what?” The question overflowed with challenge.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re going to have the same job. Grams won’t trust anyone else in the inner office. If we take the trust out of the equation, you’re still married to your job, not me.”

“I’ll work on it.” I’ll work on me.