54. Kai
THREE WEEKS LATER
It’s been quiet since we sent the package with the hitman via a private jet. I don’t know what I expected, but silence wasn’t it. And the silence is what’s bothering me the most. It’s uncomfortable and puts me on edge. Liam has checked on things and hasn’t seen any kind of chatter. Which is, again, unnerving. Something is up. If anything, I’m surprised the Costas haven’t retaliated. At the very least because we killed one of their men and sent their hitman back to them, likely to his death. We figured if they were going to do something, facing them with the home advantage was strategically smarter.
Yet, nothing.
***
We finally arrive home, and the smell of bleach hits me the moment I walk into the house. I never got a notification of movement, but I would rather be safer than sorry. Liam and I check the house from top to bottom while Cordi sits in the driver’s seat, ready to drive away with or without us. She was shaking as she got into the driver’s seat, but I will not take risks with her.
Liam and I clear the house. Afterward, I get Cordi inside before Liam says his goodbyes. She’s standing in the middle of our living room, and I know she can’t unsee it. It doesn’t matter if we cleaned it up. It doesn’t matter that it’s clear of that night because she can still see it.
“We should go furniture shopping,” I suggest.
She nods absently and rubs her belly.
“I’m going to, uh, take a shower,” she says, slowly climbing the stairs.
I release a breath and sit on the couch that needs to be replaced, too. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought her home.
I don’t think there was any right answer here. I need to trust that if she didn’t want to come back here, then she would have spoken up.
By the time we settle in bed and I pull her into me, she relaxes a little, but I think we have a long road ahead of us. She has to feel safe at home again.
***
Cordi woke me up with another nightmare, and my heart ripped apart from hearing her cry. I wish I could take them. I wish I could bear that stress for her. This time, she cried herself back to sleep because she’s utterly exhausted. I lay there for the rest of the night, holding her to me while listening to her even breaths, tracking every move and bump in the night.
The sun makes its way up, pouring light into the house, and the birds chirp. Cordi’s still out cold, so I slip out from under her and go make her breakfast. Cooking and baking are not my forte, but I figured I’d try my hand at scones. She likes those, and I’d do anything to help her relax because this stress isn’t good for any of us.
After burning myself, cutting myself, and trying not to burn the scones, I carry a tray upstairs. Pushing the door open gently, it still swings too fast and bumps the wall, making me wince.
Cordi snaps up, and her eyes widen on me.
“What is this?” she asks as her chest heaves.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I…I made you breakfast.”
Her face breaks into a wide smile, and my heart lurches in my chest. She scoots herself up against the headboard, and I set the tray down to arrange the pillows behind her.
“Comfortable?”
She nods, and I set the tray next to her, making sure not to spill the glass of water and orange juice.
I found a few daisies that always grow by the fence out back and put them in a small cup. Her eyes well as she looks between me and the tray.
“This is beautiful. Thank you, Kai.”
I smile and rub her cheek with my thumb. “You’re welcome, baby.” I sit next to her and get my coffee, taking a sip. She grabs a chocolate chip scone and looks at it.
“Wait, did you bake these?”
“Yes,” I say hesitantly.
She hums and takes a gentle bite. “These are actually really good,” she says, mumbling around the food.
I grin and reach for one.
We eat in silence, and I can’t keep my eyes off of her, making sure she’s okay, maybe pushing away some of those demons that seem to haunt her in her sleep. If I could jump in and kill them myself, I would.
“I need to start looking for another wedding dress.” She sighs.
“Since we’re already technically married, does that mean I get to see it?” I ask her hopefully.
She grins and shakes her head. “I’m not superstitious, but I am a little stitious. So I’m going to say no.”
“Okay, Michael,” I quip, and she grins.
“It feels like it would be bad luck, right?” she asks.
I shrug. “You’re asking the wrong husband, babe. I’m obviously going to say no because I want to see it.”
She rolls her eyes. “Your mom mentioned a few designers who would bring everything to me because I’m almost eight months, and about to burst.”
“Do you not want to go out?” I ask her gently.
She shakes her head and takes a bite of her scrambled eggs.
“Okay, then the store needs to come to you.”
***
Later that day, after Cordi called Mom, the dress designers came to the house. I gave her space and went to finish the rocking chair in the garage. She’s not very excited and self-conscious about everything right now, but she could wear a burlap sack, and she would still be the most stunning woman I have ever seen. If Mom has it her way, my brothers and I will be in custom, bespoke suits, and Cordelia’s dress will be nothing short of one-of-a-kind. It will be the talk of the town.
The designers finally leave, and I finish the last piece to the rocking chair.
“Kai!” Cordi calls.
I peek my head out around the garage door. “Gem!” I yell.
She laughs and rubs her belly.
“What do you want for dinner? Make it interesting because, for some reason, I want peanut sauce.”
I chuckle and hit the button for the garage door, hiding the book I ordered for her behind my back. “That’s random.”
She shrugs and turns around. “I’ve learned to just go with the craving.”
“Well, this should give you some ideas, then,” I say, holding the book out to her.
Her eyes sparkle, and she reaches for it.
“Oh my gosh! I love her! You know I follow her blog like it’s my favorite book. You liked that one recipe I made of hers a while ago. I knew she had a cookbook but never thought to get it.” She hugs the book to her. “Thank you,” she says.
“You’re welcome,” I tell her, washing my hands in the sink. “Okay, tell me what I need to chop.”
She shakes her head and points to the stairs. “No, go shower so you don’t get sawdust in our food,” she commands.
I click my heels and salute her. “Yes, ma’am.” I spin on my heel, and she sneaks up on me, hitting my butt with the book. “Hey, hey, you’re giving me ideas that have nothing to do with peanut sauce, wife. Tread carefully.”
Her eyes spark again, only they are full of longing, love, and that feral look she gives when she wants to ride me like she owns me.
“Food first,” she says breathlessly.
I wink and run up the stairs to take the fastest shower of my life.
By the time I get downstairs, she has her ingredients out and a cutting board with an onion sitting on it. “Can you cut the onion? You know they make me cry.”
“I only like it when you cry because you can’t take any more of me,” I whisper in her ear before nipping it with my teeth. She shudders, and her cheeks flame red. I gather her dress in my fist and slide my hand up her thigh.
She bats me away. “Focus on the onion, sous-chef.”
“Yes, chef!” I work on chopping the onion while she works on her peppers.
“Can you put the meat in the skillet? I can’t even look at ground beef, otherwise I’m going to puke.”
I kiss her temple and slide my hand over her ass. “Yes, I can, chef, “ I tell her roughly.
I chuckle and start cooking the meat up in the skillet.
“You love riling me up, don’t you?” she asks.
“You already know the answer to that.”
She gives me a look with those pretty blue bedroom eyes, and I wish we made PB and J’s and called it a day.
“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” she says, pouring the chopped veggies into the skillet.
“You’re good,” I mutter against her skin.
“Keep stirring, don’t burn my dinner.”
“Yes, ch—“
She presses her fingers to my lips and cocks a brow. “Please stop staying that it…” I smile against her fingers and pucker my lips to kiss them. “You can just say the word banana, and it makes me feral, okay? So just…no,” she says like she ran around the block. My heart stutters in my chest.
It’s great that we are so attracted to each other physically, but it’s in the ordinary, the cooking dinner with her, seeing her smile because I’m messing with her, that settles something in my soul. It makes everything I’ve done worth it.