“I am not going to lie to you just to make you feel better,” he said. “That green is far too loud. It makes your skin look pale, and the cut is too low.”
“The saleswoman said it suited me,” I muttered, my voice trailing off.
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Of course she did,” he snapped. “She wanted your one hundred and forty dollars. She doesn’t have to walk into a respectable restaurant with you.”
He released his grip on the wheel and let his hands fall to his lap, his knuckles white in the dim cabin light. He stared at the way the green silk gathered at my waist, his mouth twisting into a slight, hard line.
“You actually wore it,” he said.
“We talked about this at home, Damon. The kids are waiting inside.”
“They are waiting for their mother,” he said. “Not whatever this is.”
