My Husband Wants An Open Marriage

CHAPTER 087 Katen

CHAPTER 087: Kitten

It's been a week since I told Luke the news, and true to his word, I've been imprisoned in his house-well, partial imprisonment. He drives me to work every morning and picks me up every evening. On the day of my dating scan, I'd had to steal his keys while he was in the shower. That was the closest I've gotten to freedom.

I feel like my limbs are becoming useless outside of work, and it's making me crazy.

It's Saturday, and I'm still lazing about in bed.

"Julie," Luke calls, "are you awake?"

He knows I'm awake, but he also knows that he'd need a crowbar to separate me from this bed before 6 a.m.

"Go away," I say, covering my head with a pillow.

The pillow over my head muffles Luke's voice, but I still hear every smug syllable.

"Come on,

Kitten. We have a busy day today."

. I freeze. The pillow slides off just enough to uncover one eye.

"Did you just call me Kitten?"

"Did I?" He's leaning against the doorway, arms crossed.

"I think you did."

"Great. It got you awake, didn't it?" He strides over, grabs my hands, and tugs me up. "Now, go prepare. I made reservations for seafood."

I groan, letting my head loll back dramatically, "Can't I have seafood in bed?"

"You need to exercise your body more." He plants a kiss on my forehead before delivering a soft slap to my butt. "Go get ready."

"Aww," I say, flipping him off as I shuffle toward the bathroom.

"Yeah, very mature," he says, laughing behind me.

When I emerge dressed, he's waiting by the door with his keys twirling around his finger. His grin is boyish, contagious, and slightly suspicious.

CHAPTER 087: Kitten

"Let's go," he says.

The car ride starts off uneventful. Luke hums along to a soft rock station while I scroll through my phone, feeling the vibrations of the road beneath us. But then something catches my eye. The road outside is getting familiar. Too familiar.

I sit up straighter, watching as the trees thin and the signs begin to shift. And then, there it is: 'Airport,' in bright, bold letters.

I turn to Luke, narrowing my eyes. "I thought you said we were getting seafood. Why are we at the airport?"

He doesn't even glance at me. "You ask a lot of questions."

"Being quiet is how you get kidnapped."

"I've never been unclear about my intention to kidnap you. I don't know why that's an issue now."

I laugh, shaking my head. "You're ridiculous."

But my laughter dies as we pull into the private terminal. Luke steers the car into a designated parking area where a staff member approaches immediately, all smiles and professional politeness. "Good morning, Sir, Ma'am. Welcome. May I assist you with your luggage?"

Luggage? I blink, watching as Luke pops open the trunk. Two suitcases sit there, neatly packed.

I fold my arms. "You packed?"

"Yep."

""For what, exactly?"

"To get seafood."

I follow him as the staff leads us toward the terminal, my curiosity boiling over. Where are we going?"

"To get seafood," he repeats, grinning.

"You're not going to tell me anything, are you?"

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CHAPTER 087 Kitten

"Anything more than we're getting seafood? No."

I shake my head, smiling despite myself. He's enjoying this way too much. We walk through the private terminal, a world of luxury far from the chaos of commercial travel. Polished marble floors, and the air smells faintly of pine and cinnamon. The decorations are extravagant but tasteful: poinsettias line the hallways, garlands drape elegantly from the ceiling, and holiday music plays softly in the background.

Security is swift but thorough, and soon we're escorted onto the tarmac where a private jet waits. The words Couture Private Air are emblazoned on its side.

The moment we step on board, a flight attendant greets us with a warm smile. "Good morning, Mr. Martinez, Ms. Jenkins. Welcome aboard."

I'm handed a glass of orange juice without asking, and Luke gets coffee. The cabin is stunning-plush leather seats, soft ambient lighting, and windows framed with more garlands.

Luke settles into one of the wide, reclining seats, patting the one next to him. "Sit."

I lower myself into the seat, still wary. "You're really not going to tell me where we're going?"

"Nope." He grins, looking far too pleased with himself.

The pilot's voice crackles over the intercom. "Good morning, Mr. Martinez and Ms. Jenkins. We'll be taking off shortly. Please sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight. Our estimated arrival time is just under three hours."

Three hours? "I thought you said we were getting seafood?"

Luke sips his coffee nonchalantly. "Oh, we are. For lunch."

I stare at him, a million questions crowding my mind, but I decide not to ask any. This is Luke. If he's gone to this much trouble, I might as well let him have his fun.

The engines roar to life, and the plane begins to taxi down the runway. I glance at Luke, who's watching me with that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes.

"You might want to order breakfast after we take off," he says. "We've got a long day ahead, Kitten."

CHAPTER 087: Kitten

At some point after breakfast, I must have passed out on the plane because when I wake up, the cabin is bathed in soft light, and I feel the gentle descent of the jet. My head is resting against Luke's shoulder, and his fingers are lazily drawing circles on my arm.

"Welcome back, sleepyhead," he says.

I blink, disoriented, and glance out the window. The ocean gleams below us, an endless expanse of turquoise shimmering under the bright sun. We're gliding down toward a strip of pristine white sand, dotted with swaying palm trees. "Where are we?" I ask.

"Nassau," Luke says.

"Nassau? As in... the Bahamas?"

He smirks. "That's the one."

I sit

up abruptly, almost knocking into his shoulder. "Wait. We're in the Bahamas?"

"We are."

"You brought me to the Bahamas... for lunch?"

He shrugs. "Was it a bad idea? Should I tell the pilot to turn around?"

I gape at him, then laugh-loud, wild. "This is crazy."

"You're welcome," he says.

I grab his collar, pulling him close in a fierce hug. "Oh, Luke. That's so sweet. I've always wanted to visit. It's-" I pull back, looking out the window again, unable to believe it. "It's so beautiful."

"It is," he says, but his eyes aren't on the view. They're on me.

I flush under his gaze and clear my throat. "So... lunch?"

He leans back, resting his head against the seat. "Lunch."

The plane touches down.

Moments later, we're descending the stairs into the blazing sunlight. The air smells of salt and hibiscus, rich and intoxicating.

At the bottom of the stairs, a black Escalade awaits. The driver stands beside it,

his

CHAPTER 087: Kitten

hands clasped in front of him. His dark sunglasses reflect the sky.

Luke opens the door for me, guiding me into the cool, luxurious interior.

I settle in, my eyes glued to the window as we pull away. The streets of Nassau unfold before me in a vibrant display. Brightly colored buildings-pink, yellow, turquoise. The energy is infectious: vendors call out to passersby, selling fresh coconuts and handmade trinkets; children laugh and chase each other in the streets; steel drums play a rhythmic melody in the background.

It's like stepping into a dream.

The driver clears his throat, his eyes meeting mine through the rearview mirror." Good afternoon, folks. I'm Daniel, your tour guide for today. Mr. Martínez told me it's a special trip, so I'm here to make sure you see the best Nassau has to offer."

I lean forward, curious. "What's the best part of Nassau?"

Daniel smiles. "Depends on what you're looking for. The history, the beaches, the food... or maybe something a little more adventurous?"

Luke's hand tightens on my knee. "We'll take all of it."

"You're in for a treat then."

The drive continues with Daniel pointing out landmarks and sharing stories about the island's history. His voice is animated, and I find myself hanging onto every word.

We arrive at a private beach resort, the gates opening to reveal a winding path lined with palm trees. The ocean sparkles in the distance, and the soft sound of waves fills the air. Daniel parks near a secluded beach home, stepping out to open our doors. "This is where I lea you two," says, smiling. "I'I waiting outside."

As we step inside the beach home, I can't help but gasp. The interior is stunning-floor-to-ceiling windows offering panoramic views of the ocean, soft white linens draped over plush furniture, and the scent of fresh flowers lingering in the air.

"It's not Christmas yet, and I'm already getting presents," I tease, spinning around to take it all in.This content belongs to Nô/velDra/ma.Org .

Luke catches me mid-spin, pulling me into his arms. "Easy there."

I laugh, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "I love it."

He kisses me back, slower this time, his hands sliding down my back. After a

CHAPTER 087: Kitten

moment, he pulls away, his forehead resting against mine. "As much as I find your excitement irresistible, we have somewhere to be. And Daniel's waiting."

I groan. "Fine."

move to the bags near the door. "Which one's mine?"

Luke rolls his eyes. "The pink one."

unzip it. "What kind of outfit?"

"Red carpet," he replies, pulling out a suit from his own bag.

I sift through the dresses-silk, chiffon, lace-all brand new and undeniably expensive.

"You've got taste," I say, holding up a stunning emerald green dress.

"Thank you."

"And you know my size," I add.

"Clothes come with labels, you know?"

We dress quickly, and when we're ready, Daniel leads us to a closed part of the resort. He pauses at a grand set of double doors. "Ready?"

We both nod.

Daniel pushes the doors open, revealing a beautifully decorated room with a single table set for two. Candles flicker softly, their light dancing across the room.

I can barely breathe. It's amazing.

Daniel asks, "How do you find the place?"

""It's... perfect."

"How about the screen?" he asks.

I blink. "What screen?"

He points up, and the moment I look, bold letters illuminate the entire wall.

'KITTEN, WILL YOU MARRY ME?'

I turn around, my heart pounding. Luke is on one knee, holding out a ring.