Getting back to the beach house I find my shoulders slumping as I kick off my shoes and drop my purse next to the door. Fuck this shit. I know that I'm firmly in the "licking my wounds," portion of this war. I hit them, they hit back. Now they think they have me on the ropes, and they're not wrong. I don't intend to stay there. Now it's up to me to figure out the best way to hit back.
Shuffling across the hardwood, I find Lexington at the kitchen table, hunched over a blueprint with a man standing next to him. My lips dip in a frown. "Hey, baby. What are you doing?"
Lex glances up, shooting me a panty-melting smile. "The blueprints for our house?"
Duh, Genvieve. "Oh. Yeah. Life stuff. I forgot we have one of those," I muse out loud as I make my way to his side.
