Mika pats her hand and plants a lingering kiss on her lips. “Of course I’m marrying you for more than your looks, sweetheart.”
Tiresa plays her fingers between his. “Then why do you want to marry me?” she asks teasingly, fishing for a compliment.
Mika is distracted by the arrival of his drink. He gulps it down and then kisses her again. “Well, you’re smoking hot in bed for one, and—” In a flash Tiresa punches his chest. “Ow!” he yelps. “I’m serious.”
“So am I,” says Tiresa. “So if I wasn’t pretty or good in bed, would you marry me?”
“Baby,” Mika crooned while adjusting the time on his watch, “do you have to ask? I just love you. Period. Do you need any other reason? Want me to draw up a legal defense of why I want to spend the rest of my life with the woman I love?”
“Yes, and I’m sure you said the same thing to Bella. If you can dump one sister for the other, how do I know you won’t dump me and go back to her? Or find someone else?”
Now it was Mika’s turn to roll his eyes. “You always have to make everything so damn complicated. What brought this up? No, no don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. I’m not going to dump you for her or anyone else. And I’d rather not go to dinner with this conversation hanging over us so can we please forget about it? Come on, it’s time to go.”
He gulps down the last of his drink and pulls out his wallet. Tiresa gathers her purse and stands. They walk out of the bar, Mika’s hand on the small of her back. The gesture used to make her feel special, like she meant something special to him, like she belonged to him. They are a handsome couple and the entire room stares as they pass by. Obviously they are happy, successful and wealthy—the beautiful people normally seen in celebrity magazines and on the society page of the newspaper.
Now it took every ounce of strength in her to not shrug him off.
Mika always adjusts his watch when he’s lying.