Dry as Rain by Gina Holmes Read Free Book Online

me.
    â€œMy asking if you wanted was really just a formality, Eric. If you prefer, I can try again to contact her sister.”
    When I said that wouldn’t be necessary, he filled me in on her progress and lack of.
    When I hung up, Larry gave me a funny look. “Who died?”

Seven

    She was the bridge between heaven and earth. That’s how I’d felt about Kyra, but something happened to turn our marital utopia into a living hell. I knew how it had started—with her growing disappointment in me and our lives. But until I woke up in Danielle’s bed, I hadn’t known how it would end. Until that moment, reconciliation was at least a possibility.
    It was the irreversibility of my actions I thought of as I unlocked the door to what used to be my dream home. I wasn’t exactly sure why I’d come by here. Maybe I just wanted to see my house one more time before she banned me for good.
    It hadn’t seemed fair that I’d been the one who had to move out when we separated. Wasn’t it my money that had built the thing to begin with? Besides, it was Kyra, not I, who had wanted the split. She should have been the one to go.
    As I unlocked the door, the house key had never felt so cold and foreign in my hand. Memories of toting my wife over the threshold of our honeymoon suite flashed through my mind.
    â€œYou don’t have to carry me,” she said through laughter. “You’re going to give yourself a hernia.”
    â€œIf I’m going to strain something this week,” I dipped her down to slide the room key into its slot, “it’s not going to be there.”
    Her ivory skin turned pink. Although I’d tried everything to get her to make love to me during our short courtship, she hadn’t given in. Glancing down at the platinum symbol of forever wrapped around her finger, I was thankful she lived the faith she professed. So few—myself included—really did.
    I almost dropped her as I turned the doorknob. This made her laugh even harder. I used my hip to push the door open. Holding tight around my shoulders, her giggles rang in my ears.
    â€œDid you just snort?” I asked her. It was the first time I’d ever heard her do what I would, over time, grow quite used to.
    Bobbing along in my arms, she stopped laughing and her expression turned severe. “There are a few things you need to know about your wife, Mr. Yoshida.”
    I gave a hurried glance around our hotel room. One king-size bed with four fluffy pillows and thick white comforter, a desk, one chair, two floor lamps, one TV with remote, and a balcony overlooking a halfway-decent view of the Atlantic—patio furniture included. Perfect.
    I set her down on the bed. Although she didn’t weigh much, my arms still ached with the reprieve. “What’s that, Mrs. Yoshida?”
    She batted her lashes at me, melting my heart for the hundredth time that day. “I don’t snort, fart, or use the bathroom, except to brush my teeth and powder my nose. Understood?”
    I raised my eyebrows, faking surprise. “Wow. Ever?”
    She turned her head to indicate the conversation was over.
    â€œUnderstood.” I kissed her forehead, pausing to take in her vanilla-almond scent.
    With a sudden fire in her eyes, she grabbed my face and kissed me with more passion than she’d ever shown me. Than maybe anybody had ever shown anyone. I couldn’t stand not having her a moment longer. I spun her around and wasted no time unfastening the hooks on her wedding gown.
    She jerked around and grabbed my hands. “Not so fast. I want this to be perfect.” She glanced around the room. “I need my suitcase.”
    I started to object, but her pleading eyes were no match for my protests. “Please, Samurai, the candles are in there.”
    I loved that we already had pet names for one another. It made it all feel so right. I pulled her to me. “We don’t need