Chapter 435 A wife Is to Be Cherished
Francis let out a sigh of relief and said, "I ain't messin' with other chicks. I'm clean, alright?"
Harper turned her head away, muttering, "Whether you're clean or not ain't my business."
"How can it not be your business?" Francis shot a glance at the driver and whispered, "Besides you, I haven't touched anyone."
Harper, who was fuming a second ago, now felt her cheeks burning up. "Quit talkin' nonsense," she snapped.
Francis felt a bit hurt and said, "You just said you'd give us a shot."
Harper regretted her hasty decision. "That offer's off the table."
"Too bad, I ain't takin' it back. You're my girl now."
Harper saw no end to this convo, so she told the driver, "Let's roll."
Francis knew his words weren't cutting it. He turned to the driver and asked, "Can we swap cars?"
The driver looked puzzled. "What?"
Francis tossed the keys Victor handed him to the driver and said, "I'll take your car, you drive mine, cool?"
The driver shook his head. "Nah, I gotta make a living."
Harper thought the driver was pretty decent. She said, "Sorry for the hassle, sir. I'll pay you extra for the delay."
Francis was out of options. He noticed the LCD display in the taxi: [Hiring Night Shift Drivers.]
"Y'all hiring night shift drivers?" Francis nudged Victor forward. "How 'bout him?"
If he hadn't been drinking, he would've applied himself.
The driver looked skeptical. "You gotta be kidding."
Francis said, "No joke."
Victor nodded. "We are serious."
As an assistant, Victor had done a lot, but driving a cab was new territory.
Francis pleaded with the driver, "This is my wife. I messed up, and she won't let me in the house. If you don't give him a job, I'm toast."
With his good looks, Francis could pull off sincerity when he wanted to. "You're a good guy, right? Can you really let us split over a misunderstanding?"
Francis had a knack for lying with a straight face. The driver actually got out and handed the car over to Victor.
He looked at Francis earnestly and said, "Young man, a wife is to be cherished, not angered."
"Got it, sir." Francis glanced at Harper. "I'll cherish her, promise."
Harper was too stunned to react. In a flash, her driver was swapped out.
Francis sat right next to Harper, and then Victor got in and drove off.
Through the rising window, the driver was still shouting, "I don't know how to drive your car!"
Francis smirked. He'd secured the night shift driver.
Harper caught a whiff of the strong, pungent scent on him and frowned, "Get out. That smell's killin' me."
Seeing her reaction, Francis sniffed his sleeve. Yeah, it was strong.
Without a second thought, he took off his jacket, pointed to a trash can at the bus stop ahead, and had Victor stop to toss it.
He then started to take off his shirt, but Harper stopped him. "What are you doing!"
Francis looked innocent. "Didn't you say the smell bothered you?"
Harper's face turned red. "Yeah, but I meant get out, not strip."
Stripping would make things even more awkward, especially in a car without tinted windows. If people saw him shirtless, they'd think something sketchy was going on.
Francis, all matter-of-fact, said, "That ain't gonna fly. I promised the driver I'd cherish you."
Harper's cheeks turned pink.
Francis leaned in a bit, raised his arm to her nose, and said, "Take a whiff. No smell inside. I just didn't take off my jacket earlier."
Harper turned her head awkwardly and shot back, "You're shameless."
"Yep, totally shameless," Francis said, his hand resting on the back of her seat, almost like he was wrapping her up. His voice dropped low, "As long as you're cool with it."
Harper's ears burned, and she snapped, "I don't want you. You've been touched by other women. Gross."
Francis turned her face towards him and raised his hand like he was swearing an oath. "I swear, I haven't touched any other woman. If you don't believe me, ask Victor. I didn't let her get close at all. My only crime is breathing the same air as her."
Victor, eyes on the road, chimed in, "Yep, Mr. Getty's got mad self-control. Didn't let anyone touch him."
Harper's face got even hotter. She slapped Francis's hand away, her lips moved like she wanted to say something, but she clammed up in front of Victor.
So she turned and stared out the window.
Francis knew she was shy and stopped messing with her. He kept his arm around her, but didn't touch her.
When they got to their stop, Victor got out of the car, giving them some space.
Harper didn't want to talk and reached for the door, but Francis's long arm pressed down on the handle.
"Harper," he said.
Francis's move felt like he was hugging her from behind, his cold breath all around her.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been jealous. I should trust you more. I shouldn't flip out when I see other guys around you. I wanna change, but I can't help it. But I promise, I'll try my best, okay?" Francis confessed, his voice low and sincere.
Harper had never seen this side of him before. It was hard to believe that the always proud and cocky Francis could be like this.
Francis let go of the handle and gently hugged her neck from behind.
He said softly, "Just like you and that woman, I'm up against even tougher opponents. Keith's got history with you from school, and Vincent's got five years with you. During those times, I had no connection with you, so I'm scared. You get it?"
Harper's body stiffened. She never knew Francis could be so insecure. Turned out, every time he acted crazy, it wasn't for no reason.
Even though those past incidents hurt her, seeing him so lost and down, Harper felt a bit sorry for him.
Francis, seeing her silence, thought she was still mad and said, "I'll make sure to ask you first from now on and stop jumping to conclusions, okay?"
Francis couldn't promise he wouldn't get jealous anymore. That was impossible. He knew how strong his possessiveness was.
Harper, who had been holding in her anger, now couldn't find a reason to argue. She softened her voice and said, "I cooked a great dinner tonight."
Seeing Harper relent, Francis's eyes lit up. "I'm sorry. I'll go eat it up now."
Harper said, "No need, it's all cold."
Francis mumbled, "It's okay. I haven't had dinner, lunch, breakfast, or even last night's dinner."
He'd only had a cup of coffee and a few drinks in the evening. The rest of the time, he was too upset to eat.
Hearing this, Harper felt even more sorry for him and asked, "You haven't had anything?"
"Yeah." Francis's voice had a hint of sadness. "My appetite left with my wife."
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
