Page 123 of The Man I Hate

“Nothing?” I lowered my fork and raised my brows. “What do you mean, nothing?”

He poked the chicken in his mouth. “Nothing.”

I slapped his bicep with the back of my hand. “Can you stop eating for a minute?”

He gave me a dismissive glance. “Sure.” He set his fork down and wiped his hands on his napkin. “What?”

“You’re going back to work, aren’t you?”

“I haven’t decided.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What? Why? What’s—”

“I like this,” he said, glancing around the dining room. “It’s nice. Spending time together. Having a family. I didn’t realize how much I needed this until I got it. Now that I’ve got it, I don’t know that I’m willing to give it up.”

“I’m going to have to do something. I’ve got a little nest egg, but I don’t want to—”

“Look,” he said. “If you want to work, that’s fine. I’ve got enough money for both of us, so there’s nothing to worry about when it comes to finances.”

“Why haven’t we talked about this?” I asked.

“We’re talking about it now, aren’t we?”

“We’re talking about it because I pressed the issue.”

He reached for his fork. “Well, we’re talking about it, and that’s what matters.”

The thought of working at my leisure was exciting. I despised the thought of giving up my dealership in Oklahoma, but I hated thinking about leaving Los Angeles even more.

Being closer to the beach was my dream. I tried to contain myself. “Are you planning on staying here forever?” I asked dryly.

“California? I can’t think of living anywhere else.”

“No,” I replied. “Sherman Oaks.”

He made a funny face. “No.”

“You’re thinking about leaving?”

He poked a piece of chicken in his mouth. “Yeah. Been thinking about it.”

“Why haven’t we talked about that?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Didn’t get to it yet, I guess.”

“All we talk about is what’s on television, how funny your dad is, and what’s for dinner,” I said. “We never talk about our future.”

He poked a piece of cauliflower in his mouth. “I’m not much of a talker.”

I widened my eyes as if he’d made a grand revelation. “Oh, really?”

“Go to hell,” he said, laughing over a mouthful of food. “I’ve never been a talker.”

“Well, it’s time to start,” I declared. “Where were you thinking about moving to?”

“Hadn’t given it a tremendous amount of thought.” He swallowed his food and glanced over his left shoulder. “What do you think about moving closer to the beach?”

My heart raced. I tried to hide my excitement. I nervously poked at a piece of chicken. “I think that would be nice. I like the beach. It’s peaceful. Are you thinking a little closer, or a lot closer?”