Fallon
“You’re giving me your black card?”
I blinked at Reid as he slid the sleek, matte-black credit card across the breakfast table like it was nothing more than a business memo.
“I have meetings all day,” he said, barely looking up from his phone. “Go wild.”
I picked up the card between my fingers, studying it like it might bite me. It was heavier than any of my other cards—an unsubtle reminder that this particular piece of plastic had no spending limit. The kind of power that made people reckless.
“You do realize what you just said to me, right?” I asked, arching a brow.
Reid finally lifted his gaze, his sharp blue eyes flicking to mine. “You’re my wife, Fallon. It’d be weird if you didn’t spend my money.”
I searched his face for any trace of sarcasm. There was none.
“Hmm.” I t
