He stares at me, uncomprehending.

“What are you talking about?”

“I can’t take on the complex, high-level negotiations you’re managing, but I can do more than sit on a plane, stomping my foot, being a whinypuss.”

“Whinypuss?”

“Go with it. Look, you have Grace as your assistant. We decided you’re the CEO of Grind It Fresh! That makes me chief operating officer, at a minimum.”

He nods. I’m not sure what to say next, because I’m totally winging it. I have his full attention purely by accident and I want to keep it.

“Have Grace handle whatever she can. Then split the workload with me.”

His eyes travel away from me, zig-zagging as he thinks through my words. It isn’t often that I do this to him. Stopping his pre-determined decision is hard.

“You’re right,” he says slowly. “We’re partners.”

“We are.”

“In every way.”

I grin. “Yes.”

“And you should share in the suffering.”

“Right. I—what?”

“Why should I be rejected in Spanish and Balinese? You can make the calls to the suppliers. You can talk to the worker’s collective representative about malaria nets for the children and family planning curricula for the plantations.”

“I thought we were talking about coffee shops.”

“We are. What do you think we’re doing here, Shannon? We’re buying a socially-conscious coffee chain. You wouldn’t believe the code of ethics they have in place for coffee purchases.”

“That’s what you’ve been talking on the phone about so much? Can’t it wait until the honeymoon’s over?”

“Why do you think I’ve been so focused on so many calls? I’m trying to be done before we touch down in Hawaii.”

“But you said you wanted to tour Kona coffee plantations!”

He has the decency to look sheepish. “Aside from that. I am placing all the work on hold once we touch down. But when we’re home, we can integrate you into leadership.”

“What about my job at Anterdec?”

“Resign.”

“What about benefits?”

“Benefits?” His dark brow knits in confusion over those handsome moss-green eyes. “The biggest benefit will be building this together.”

“I mean tangible benefits. You know. Luxuries like medical care, retirement plans, etc.”

He waves a hand. “We’ll have that set up shortly.”

“By waving your magic hand?”

“Magic hand, huh?” He waggles his eyebrows.

“Dec, can you be serious for a minute?”

“You’re the one who wanted to stop talking about business and focus on sex,” he hisses, still covering the phone’s mouthpiece.

Damn it. He’s got me there.

“Shannon.” When he says my name like that, it’s an acknowledgement that I’m right, but I need to be patient.

My head turns into a blank sheet of paper. “I need coffee.”

“And I need to wrap with Diego.”

Adele appears with a tray of coffee and tea, as if she heard me mention coffee thirty seconds ago. By the time Declan’s done and off the phone, I’m sipping my caffeine and my mind’s more clear.

“Look,” I say, working hard to find a solution here, and not just leverage to prove I’m right. “We have two distinct issues: you’re working too hard when we should be playing this week, and you want me to leave Anterdec when our financial resources may not support that decision.”

He’s agog.

I almost grin, because getting Declan to show any emotion other than bedroom feelings is damn near impossible.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Our financial resources may not support that decision?”

“Well...yes.”

“Why would you jump to that conclusion?”

“You just bought a regional chain. I know you financed it. And we’re losing all the perks from Anterdec.” I sweep my hand in the air around the room. “Like this. We’re losing private transportation, from jets to limos. Health insurance. Paid vacation.”

He snorts.

“Even if you don’t take it, some people do.”

“Shannon, I have more than enough money for everything to be fine. You don’t need to hang on at Anterdec for your salary and benefits.”

“I don’t?”

He gives me a smile that makes it clear he thinks I’m adorable, like a cocker spaniel puppy or an American Girl doll. “No. You don’t. Your salary is negligible.”

Huh?

“Excuse me?”

“It’s cute that you wanted to stay on at Anterdec after we married, but you can give it up now.”

“Hold on.”

He did not just call my working “cute,” right?

“Cute?”

Dec shrugs. “You’re a modern woman.”

Did Folger’s Coffee secretly replace my husband with his father?

“And I know you want to contribute,” he continues.

“I want to work,” I insist, temper flaring.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m wrong.”

“You are!”

“What did I say?”

“You are so condescending.”

The plane jerks, curving at a hard right, sending me into Declan, his arms wrapping around me as we fall down. He takes the brunt of the fall by instinctively turning, his shoulder and hip the first point of contact.

“We’ve hit another rough patch,” the pilot says over the intercom.

No kidding.

“Are you hurt?” Declan asks as we stand carefully and make our way to seats with belts attached.

“Bruised ego and elbow. Nothing too important hurt,” I say with a sniffling flourish.

He peers at me.”You’re really pissed.”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“Because I think you’re performing all this extra work because you overcommitted our financial resources and you’re shutting me out from the truth.”

The expression that spreads across his face is the most infuriating response he could give.

Because he smiles.