Either option is possible.

I stretch, enjoying the sore muscles in my knees and between my legs, letting my abs slowly relax as blood warms them. The high thread-count sheets make me feel sexy, sensual, and as my bare feet touch thick carpet, I take stock.

Married to a great lover? Check.

Married to a smart man? Check.

Married to a good-hearted soul? Check.

Married to a guy with money to burn? Ch—

Ah. Wait.

Until a few days ago, yeah. And not that I ever cared about all this luxury, but it’s slowly sinking in that Declan resigned from Anterdec. No more VP of marketing salary. No more stock options. No more fringe benefits.

I didn’t resign, though.

So at least we have health insurance.

I ponder that one. Do billionaires need health insurance? Declan’s net worth isn’t a secret to me. He laid it all out before he proposed. He shared his net worth, I shared my Walk of Shame student loan debt.

He laughed at the amount I owed.

I cried at the number of zeros on his balance sheets.

Could his crazy work ethic on our honeymoon be related to losing perks? Is he worried about money?

I bite my lower lip, sucking gently where he nipped me, as I remove the dry cleaning bag from the hanger and slip into the new outfit.

Perfect.

Fits like a glove.

I look around the jet’s bedroom with a different perspective. Flying coach is the norm for me. In fact, I’ve never flown business or first class. Still haven’t—because Declan uses the corporate jet for our trips.

Time for Declan to join my reality.

I step into the main living room area in the cabin. Declan cuts his eyes to me, giving a half shrug, as if he just oops! happened to fall and the phone magically ended up in his hand.

Not his fault.

He leans in for a kiss.

“Get off the phone,” I whisper.

He shakes his head. “Can’t. Fair Trade coordinator for locally sourced beans.”

“You have to do this now?”

“Yes. I need to pin him down before we get to Hawaii and go on the tours of the Kona coffee plantations there.”

“That better be a euphemism for sex.”

His expression says it isn’t.

“Did you pick Hawaii for our honeymoon so we could look at coffee plantations?”

The slight hesitation is all I need to see.

“I’m done! Tell the pilot to turn around.”

I want to see panic. Shock. Horror.

Instead, I get the finger. He’s cool as a cucumber, unflappable, and not at all worried about my reaction.

“Adele!” I call out.

She hurries over, eyes impossibly wide.

“Please tell the pilot we need to change the flight plan.”

She looks at me in alarm. “Excuse me, Mrs. McCormick?”

“We’re not changing the flight plan,” Declan insists.

“May I ask why?” Adele asks.

“Because I just learned my husband chose Hawaii for our honeymoon so we can tour coffee plantations.”

She gives me a blank, uncomprehending look.

“My workaholic billionaire picked a honeymoon spot so he can work more.”

Her eyes narrow with outrage.

“Is this about the rumor that you’ve resigned from Anterdec?” she asks Declan, moving closer to me. Sisterhood. Hell, yeah.

“I’m not going to talk about this. Hold on, Diego,” he says into the mouthpiece of his phone, covering it with his hand. He ignores Adele and looks at me. “A word?”

I hold up one finger in response.

“Sorry. I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

I make a play for his phone, but he’s faster, gripping my wrist.

“Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice—”

“Then you’re my mother.”

He blinks, an insolent look clouding his eyes.

“That’s true.”

“Tell me about it. She insists we’re supposed to give her a honeymoon oops! grandchild.” There. I said it. Now he’ll panic.

He grins. “Let me finish this call with Diego. Once it’s over, I swear I’ll pay attention to you.” Wink.

“Oh, so you’ll pay attention to me because my mother wants a honeymoon grandchild, but if all I want is sex, I get the finger?” My heart races every time I say grandchild.

His smile widens but he returns to the call.

I try to grab the phone out of his hand and fail. “I’m tired of begging.”

“I don’t want you to beg.”

I give him a pointed look.

“Only when we roleplay,” he says under his breath.

Adele disappears discreetly, giving me a look that is as close to a Katniss two-finger salute as can be. Too many thoughts and feelings spin through me, whirling without center, until I’m looking at Declan like he’s a stranger.

It’s not the way he’s acting that is the problem.

It’s my fear that he’ll act this way forever.

“Shannon, I bought the coffee chain for you,” he says in an earnest tone. If he’d used his all-business voice, or his control-the-boardroom voice, I’d shut him down.

This is his I-love-you voice.

“I know. And we’re going to build a great company. We will.”

He smiles, lips spreading genuine pleasure. “We damn well will.” A flicker of emotion I don’t see in him often rises to the surface.

“You’re afraid,” I hiss, the words coming out in a tone of wonder.

“What?”

“You’re afraid.” I groan, reaching for his hand. He’s frozen in place. “I didn’t see it until now.”

“See what?” he scoffs. “Fear? No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“You’re working so hard because you took a huge chance, one you’ve never taken before, and you’re realizing it has to work. Failure isn’t an option.”

“You’re describing our marriage. Not my new business.”

“Our new business.”

He relents silently with a small gesture.

“Of course,” he says, his voice like a feather on the wind. “Ours.”

“If it’s ours, then I should share the burden.”

“Burden?”

“You shouldn’t have to do all this work.”