Chapter 6

My new wife was avoiding me.

I watched her dance during the reception, her green dress tight against her curves. One of the groomsmen—Kevin? Keith?—had his hands dangerously close to her arse. One more inch and he’d have a nice handful.

Mari, to her credit, somehow managed to wiggle out of his grip to move his hands to a more appropriate place on her back without missing a beat. It was only her smile faltering that showed she was annoyed.

I’d got good at reading my wife in the last two days.

My wife. My bloody fucking wife.

Me, the guy who hated the idea of marriage. I was a bitter old man in a young man’s body when it came to shite like this. Yet I’d skipped to the altar like a starry-eyed girl the second I got rat-arsed and horny for a gorgeous redhead.

It’ll make me feel better, she’d said, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glassy. It’ll make David so mad. And it’d be fun. Don’t you like to have fun?

I liked to have fun. Fun that didn’t involve signing my life away to a woman in o