Chapter 145 Body Swapped
Right then, Julian wasn’t just Caroline’s assistant. He was more
like the concerned uncle of Caroline’s kid. “Look, might as well
tell you straight up. Grandma said you should skip visiting her this
week.”
Caroline’s face was a stone mask. “Like he’s important enough for
me to change my plans?”
Julian sighed, “Boss lady, please. Grandma’s not getting any younger. She can’t handle all that fighting and drama…”
Alistair was completely lost, suddenly feeling like he’d walked into
a private conversation he wasn’t supposed to hear.
Caroline, who always, always considered his feelings, wasn’t
about to let him feel left out. She explained, “Leo and I, we’ve
been like cats and dogs since we were kids. We’ve literally thrown punches. We just rub each other the wrong way. He’s in New York for his concerts, so he’s definitely going to see Grandma.
She’s just worried that if we run into each other, it’ll be World War
Three.”
To Alistair, Leo was just some talented musician. He didn’t
particularly like him, but he didn’t dislike him either.
But after hearing what Caroline just said? Alistair’s opinion of Leo
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took an immediate nosedive.
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My wife’s moral compass is dead–on. Anyone who can’t get along with her? It’s gotta be their fault.
On this particular issue, Alistair’s loyalty was almost terrifyingly
absolute.
Julian’s next sentence sent Alistair’s dislike of Leo spiraling into
full–blown loathing.
“Alistair, you know, back in the day, I don’t know if this jerk did
it just to mess with Carol or what, but he actually tried to set
her up with one of his showbiz buddies. The guy’s some kind
of mega–idol now, got a whole army of psycho fans. Anyway,
he was relentlessly hounding Carol, even swore he’d quit the
entertainment industry for her. Carol laid him out with one punch, and he finally got the message!”
Caroline shot him a look that could freeze fire. “Julian!”
She’d be the first to admit she could be pretty damn ruthless when dealing with people who got under her skin. She generally didn’t give a crap what anyone else thought of her, anyone except Alistair.
There was a side of her, a fierce, violent side, that she didn’t want Alistair to see. She was afraid it would scare him off…
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Julian visibly flinched. “Ms. Ashbourne, this document needs your signature. It’s pretty urgent.”
But before he could make his escape, he couldn’t resist adding
to Alistair, “And Alistair, don’t you worry your head about it. Carol would never lay a finger on you. I’d bet my life on it. She’s too busy spoiling you rotten!”
Julian had once resigned himself to the idea that Caroline was
destined to die alone.
Then Alistair showed up, and he suddenly realized that the cool,
aloof Caroline actually had a soft, tender, almost girly side.
He still didn’t quite get what made Alistair so special to Caroline.
And yeah, having their nauseatingly cute PDA shoved in his face every day was pretty damn annoying.
But deep down, he was genuinely happy for them.
Alistair, though, could hold a grudge.
Even though he knew his wife had been pursued by some
big–shot idol before he even met her, and even though he knew
she wasn’t interested, he still badgered Julian for the idol’s name and then promptly looked him up online.
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So, he was some guy who’d debuted in a boy band, was pretty mediocre at singing and dancing, but had somehow managed to amass a legion of fans thanks to his ridiculously pretty face.
Staring at the screen, at the idol sporting a ridiculous mop of pink hair and striking some “I’m God’s gift to women, a total badass” pose, Alistair felt a sudden, undeniable surge of superiority.
That smug feeling was a direct gift from his amazing wife.
That idol might have millions of fans, but Alistair had Caroline.. And that one fact, he was pretty sure, made him infinitely cooler
than any idol out there.
These days, he could stand tall and confidently say he wasn’t exactly chopped liver himself!
The script he’d banged out in a single afternoon had gotten Yves‘ enthusiastic stamp of approval, and the online novel he was
serializing was gaining popularity by the day.
Alistair, who’d spent six long, miserable years convinced he was
a complete and utter waste of space, had accidentally stumbled
upon a genuine talent for storytelling. And with that talent, he
could actually earn a living. It was small potatoes now, but he had a feeling those small potatoes were on the verge of becoming
some serious cash.
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Alistair practically rubbed his hands together in anticipation, secretly plotting his next big move.
He was going to cook up a massive surprise for his wife and daughter!
“Well, well, look who it is. Been a while. I thought maybe you’d mellowed out with age, but nope. Still the same charming
personality, I see.”
“Are you done? Because if you are, you can get the hell out now.”
In the echoing emptiness of the parking garage, a man stepped out, blocking Caroline’s path, completely oblivious or pretending to be, to the blatant annoyance practically radiating off her.
“Carol, don’t be like that. So cold. I just want to talk.”
Caroline never wasted a single breath on people she couldn’t be bothered with. As she tried to sidestep him without even a glance in his direction, the man’s hand shot out and clamped around her
wrist.
Caroline bristled, ready to throw down, when her vision suddenly swam. When it cleared a second later, she found herself securely
Chapter 145 Body Swapped
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tucked behind a tall, broad figure.
Caroline’s eyes widened. Staring at the man in front of her, who
was exuding an almost terrifying aura of intimidation, she couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across her face.
My honey. No matter what, no matter when, he always makes me feel completely and utterly safe.
Alistair glared his eyes like chips of ice at the man he’d just sent sprawling with a single punch. He was still so pissed off he wanted to go over and kick him while he was down.
Does this idiot have any goddamn idea how furious I was when I saw him lay a hand on my wife?
I swear, I’m going to stomp on this guy’s hand until it’s nothing but pulp!
Huh, wait a second. Why does this dude look so damn familiar?
And then it hit him. This was the musical genius they’d just been talking about, Caroline’s cousin, Leo!
Just then, Caroline tugged at his sleeve from behind. “Forget it, honey. Don’t dirty your hands on a lowlife like him.”
Leo, groaning and cursing as he struggled to his feet, froze when
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he heard that. He stared at Alistair, then back at Caroline, his face a mask of disbelief. “You’re married? When the hell did you get
married?”
Caroline’s voice was utterly devoid of emotion. “None of your
damn business.”
Then she took Alistair’s hand, the one he’d just used to hit Leo’s face, lifted it to her lips and gently blew on his knuckles. “Does it hurt, honey?”
The transformation from ice queen to doting, concerned wife was instantaneous and seamless. If he hadn’t seen it with his own
eyes, he’d never believe it was the same person.
Leo’s eyes were practically bugging out of his head.
For a wild second, he seriously wondered if the cold, aloof Caroline he remembered had been body–swapped by an alien!
Leo’s blatant shock was incredibly satisfying to Alistair.
This just proves it. Besides me, Caroline has never, ever treated another guy like this. My ego is having a field day with this.
He grinned down at her. “Nah, doesn’t hurt a bit!”
Leo was rendered momentarily speechless.
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Damn it! I have no idea if Alistair is hurting, but my face is definitely throbbing like a son of a bitch!
There’s a special kind of ouch that happens when his wife thinks
he’s hurt.
Caroline tutted. “Oh, stop trying to be a tough guy. Look, your
hand is all red!”
Alistair glanced at his hand. He didn’t see any redness.
But if Caroline said it was red, then it was red. If she said his hand
hurt, then damn it, it hurt.
He’d happily agree to anything his wife said.
Just as he was basking in his wife’s tender loving care, a grating voice rang out. “Does my uncle even know about this? Because I guarantee you, my uncle has no idea. He even said he was going to give you…”
Leo’s gaze snapped back to Alistair, and he started grilling him
like a detective. “Who is this guy? What does he do? How many people are in his family? Where the hell is he from?”
His eyes raked Alistair up and down, then up and down again, like a high–tech scanner, every flicker of his expression, every glance,
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every nuance of his body language screaming disapproval and
pickiness.
B
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