Chapter 14 #2
My husband goes very still, and the muscle in his jaw twitches. “No. Does it bother you?”
“Not at all. You’re what, fifty?” I press my lips together because I know he’s not fifty, and he barks out a laugh.
“Sometimes I feel fifty. I’m forty-three. Elliott’s twenty-five.”
“You were a young dad.” My voice is quiet but not judgmental.
“I was a fucking baby.”
“And that leads to the last question of the night.” I lick my lips and try to pull my hand out of Julian’s, but he holds on tight and frowns at me. “Where’s his mom?”
“She died about a year after Elliott was born. I met her in school when I was seventeen, and we were not planning to get pregnant. Sienna was a nice girl. I liked her a lot, and we had fun together. Maybe too much fun for our age. And then she was pregnant, and I married her. She died in a car accident.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“She died before you were born, Angel. There’s nothing to be sorry for. It was a long time ago, and while I never would have wished her dead, our marriage wasn’t likely to survive. We were far too young. Now, I have a question for you.”
“Oh geez. Okay. I’m an open book.”
He covers his mouth with his free hand and laughs. “You look scared out of your mind.”
“I guess I didn’t take into account that the questions worked both ways.” I clear my throat. “I’m ready.”
“How are you?”
I blink at him. “That’s it?”
“Yes. I want to know how you’re doing with everything that happened today. Don’t sugarcoat it for my benefit.”
“You actually care.” I can’t believe I voiced the words out loud. “Made men rarely do. You get what you want, and everyone else can fuck off.”
“I’m not going to lie to you, Natasha. I’m a shit human. I have exactly that attitude, except when it comes to my family. My brothers, my men, and now, you. I don’t give a shit about anyone else. So yeah, I care. I want to know how you’re holding up.”
Biting my lower lip, I take a deep breath and think about it.
“I was so scared this morning,” I admit. “Terrified. Elliott was never kind to me unless we were around other people. Then he was the doting fiancé. But the second we were alone, he tormented me relentlessly.”
Julian growls next to me, and I jerk my gaze to his.
“Keep going, Angel.”
“I shouldn’t say bad things about your son.”
“You should always tell me the truth. Go on.”
“I thought about killing myself—”
He reaches for me then and pulls me into his lap, his arms wrapped around me like earlier, and he kisses the top of my head.
“I didn’t want to live a life where I was afraid all of the time. Not anymore. Not ever again.” I let myself lean into him and swallow the tears that want to come. “But then Lulu came in and helped me rip apart that horrible dress.”
He leans back and frowns down at me. “What do you mean?”
“It had poofy sleeves and a big stupid bow over the ass. It looked like something from the 1980s. So, we did surgery on it.”
“It was beautiful on you.” He ghosts his knuckles down my cheek. “Don’t ever say those words again, about not wanting to be alive. Do you hear me?”
“It was bad,” I whisper. “You’ve seen the bruises.”
“I don’t ever want you to feel that way again, and I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you have a life that you enjoy.” He presses his lips to my forehead.
“When I got to the front of the church, I could smell you, and when I looked up and saw you standing there, it was like all of the terror and horror was just . . . calm. Like I could finally breathe. And don’t get me wrong, you still make me nervous because I don’t know you well, but you’ve never hurt me. ”
“And I never will.” It sounds like a solemn vow, and it fills me with warmth just as much as leaning against his hard chest does.
“It’s been a busy day,” I say softly.
“And I still have work to do,” he murmurs. “But I want to make sure you’re okay first.”
“I’m great.” I grin up at him, realizing that it’s the truth. “I’ll clean up this food and put the leftovers in the fridge for tomorrow.”
“You like leftovers?”
“Duh. Chinese is better the next day. It’s science.” Grinning, I lean in and press my lips to his cheek, startling him, and then he yanks me back to him and crashes his mouth to mine, kissing me so desperately, as if he’s wanted to do it all his life.
And I love it.
I wrap my arms around his neck and press close to him as I push my fingers into the softest hair I’ve ever felt.
And then I back away.
“You have to work,” I remind him. My lips are buzzing from that spectacular kiss.
“I’ll probably be here all night,” he agrees. “Just let me know if you need me.”
I nod, and then climb off his lap and gather the food cartons, closing them and stacking them back in the bags, and then I offer my husband a smile before I walk out of the room.
It only takes a moment to put the food away before I make my way up to my bedroom.
Just let me know if you need me.
I wonder if he would think I was coming on too strong if I told him I’d like to sleep in his bed? There’s just something about his warm scent that soothes me, and I bet his bed smells like heaven.
But he’s working, and I want to leave him be, so I close the door of my room and get ready for sleep.