The Holloways (Made for Love Book 3.5) by R.C. Martin

Gabby. Gabby—this is everyone.”
    Trisha scoffs and rolls her eyes before she reaches across the table to shake Gabby’s hand. “I’m Trisha,” she says before nodding to the man beside her. “This is my husband, Ryan.” He reaches his hand out to shake hers, too; then Roman introduces us.
    I’m still mad at him—not feeling an ounce more forgiving than when we left home—but hearing him introduce me as his wife…I’m sure I’ll never tire of it.
    We order our first round of drinks and I opt for a Cosmo. This evening calls for something stronger than beer. I barely get my food menu open before Roman leans toward me and asks, “What are you getting for dinner?”
    “Why?” I mutter, not bothering to look at him. “Afraid I’ll overspend ?” The words are out faster than I can stop to think about them. Before I can decide whether or not I want to take them back, Roman has my chin between his fingers, turning my face so that I have no place to look other than into his irritatingly gorgeous brown eyes.
    “ Don’t, ” he grinds out.
    It hits me all at once.
    My anguish.
    My anger.
    My tears.
    The moment always arrives with a bit of fanfare.
    I stand abruptly, excusing myself awkwardly, and hurry toward the restrooms.
    It hurts. Every time .
    I love him. I despised him for years. I hated the way he looked at me. The way he spoke to me—always condescending and never without judgment. But I wasn’t any better. I never turned the other cheek—never. I always had a smart-ass remark to throw back at him. We fought like cats and dogs, not thinking about each other’s feelings, as if we forgot that they even existed. And now—now I love him! Fighting with him…it makes us act like them ; it makes us act like the Roman and Logan of old, only every word hits harder.
    I don’t want to be her . I don’t want to disrespect my husband, I don’t—but he makes me so irritated sometimes. Reeling in my temper isn’t always easy. And I get it. Relationships are hard and people fight, but it doesn’t feel that simple with us. It never has and I’m convinced it never will. So, when the moment hits, all I can do is surrender.
    I burst through the bathroom door, my vision blurred by my tears as I push my way into the first stall. I don’t notice that I'm being followed until I meet resistance when I try shutting myself in. I gasp, my eyes growing wide with shock when I see Roman forcing his way into the small space with me.
    “What are you—? Get out! What are you doing?” I screech as he slides the lock in place.
    “My wife gets up and leaves the table in tears and I’m supposed to stay behind? I don’t think so.”
    “Oh, so, you’re trying to save face?” I ask, not bothering to reach up to dry my cheeks. “Well, you’ve done your duty. You can leave now. Tell them whatever you want.”
    “Stop it. Just— stop it, ” he insists, cupping his hands around my face. His expression is hard but his touch is gentle, and I don’t know whether to shake him off or bury myself in his chest. “I don’t like this anymore than you do, babe.”
    “You started it,” I argue, pulling his hands away from me. “You’re the one who decided to come home and yell at me for no reason.”
    “First of all, we’re not playing the blame game, Logan. Maybe I lost my temper, but you aren’t without fault. You shouldn’t have spent all that money without talking to me first.”
    “Since when do I have to ask permission to spend my money?”
    “ Not your money,” he bites, caging me between his arms as he presses his hands against the wall behind me. “ Our money, Logan. Ours .”
    “But—”
    “We agreed. One pot. One name. Holloway. Our money. I get it—you’re the breadwinner right now, but this isn’t me taking advantage of that. It’s not always going to be like this. One more semester and I’ll be working full time—but that won’t change anything. One pot. One name. Our money.”
    “I know, okay?