Chapter 66
Decker
I drive the umbrella into the sand with more force than I mean to.
I’m pent up and agitated, horny and frustrated.
I didn’t think it would be this difficult to spend the day alone with her.
My wife.
Nothing is wrong, per se. But when her phone pings with a text from one of the guys, or when I catch her looking out at the ocean, lost in thought and wearing an expression that’s far too peaceful to be associated with me, it scratches at the already raw wounds on my heart.
I’ve never employed more restraint than I did last night when I heard them.
The four of them.
Together.
On our wedding night.
Though it took all my self-control, I wouldn’t allow myself to be baited. To go where I’m not welcome. To intrude on the genuine intimacy they share.
It felt like a mockery of our marriage to listen to her scream for them as I sat upstairs, alone with my bourbon. But I stayed the course and refused to engage.
I’ve gotten it wrong with Josephine so many times. It took a ridiculous number of failures to get here, but now, I’m irrevocably determined to get this right.
My words are useless. The way I wielded them in the past ensured that. All I have left are my actions—the consideration I give, the care I provide, and now, the privacy I can erect as she sunbathes on a blanket in her unbuttoned flannel shirt and shorts.
“What did that umbrella do to you?” she teases, her hand raised to her forehead to shield the sun from her eyes.
I take her in and will my dick to stand down.
She’s so fucking pretty.
Toned legs and wide hips, her stomach curvy and soft as she lies flat on her back. Her breasts are perfect mounds, nipples clearly visible through the thin fabric of the crop top.
What I wouldn’t give to slide my tongue—or my cock—along the curves of her breasts.
Swallowing back the desire threatening to take control of me, I inspect our setup, then finally join her on the blanket we spread out for lunch.
“Just wanted to give us some privacy.”
“You built an entire umbrella barricade,” she counters with a grin.
Yeah. I did.
Four umbrellas strategically circle us, none positioned in a way that block out the sun, but all of them creating enough coverage that we have the illusion of isolation.
“We’ve only seen a dozen other people here today,” she reminds me, poking a finger into the side of my stomach.
I lurch back and bat at her hand.
She gasps. “Are you ticklish?”
Her eyes dance with mischief, and she’s scrambling to sit up before I can reply.
She comes at me, arms outstretched, and when she makes contact with my T-shirt, I hiss in response to the featherlight touches. When she digs in and tries to tickle me in earnest, I snatch her wrists.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Siren.”
She tugs against my hold halfheartedly. We both know it’s useless. I’ve got her trapped.
“Believe me, Cap. I never have a problem finishing,” she goads, hovering in my personal space until I release my hold on her.
This woman.
My wife.
We hover close, neither one of us pulling back from the other as we share breath. Eventually, she blinks, and the spell is broken.
“Aren’t you cold?” I ask as she retreats and settles on her back again. I don’t know why I bother asking. It can’t be more than seventy degrees, and her nipples are very clearly on display.
Thank god for the umbrella barricade. Sharing her with the boys is enough. I refuse to let anyone else gawk at her perfect, perky tits.
“Feeling the sun on my skin is worth it,” she replies, smiling at the sky with her eyes closed.
She holds one hand up to shade her face and cracks one eye open to focus on me.
“Lay with me?”
My heart stutters at the request. First from excitement. And then from fear. If this is a trick and she pushes me away? I told her to punish me. Use me. Make me pay. Fuck. Now it’s time to man up and take anything she dishes out.
Nothing but sincerity emanates from her as I drop to the blanket beside her and lower onto my back.
I keep a healthy distance between us, trying in earnest to give her the space she insists she needs.
Rolling to face me, she props her head in her hand. “What are you thinking about?”
“How we’re not out of the woods yet,” I confess.
Getting married was just step one. There are a dozen calls to make, piles of paperwork to complete, and notices to send. Kylian is working hard today to get logistics lined up for the bulk of our plans. I can’t help but be agitated, though, by the to-do list nagging at the back of my mind.
Sighing, she props up onto her elbow. “We can go. If you have things to take care of, or you don’t have time…”
Fuck. I didn’t mean it like that.
“No,” I counter harshly. “There’s nowhere else I want to be today, Siren. There’s no one else I want to spend the day with.”
It’s true.
I’m just not great at compartmentalizing or managing the sense of overwhelm that washes over me every time I think about the consequences of what I intend to do.
“I want to be here with you,” I confess. “More than I want anything in the world.”
Her face softens, a small smile teasing at the corner of her lips as she wiggles closer and rests her head on my bicep.
The weight of her—her very presence—is the most gratifying sensation, a soothing balm to my frayed, anxious nerves.
She sighs. “This was a good idea. I’m really glad we get this day together.” Fingertips brush the hair off my forehead. “We’ll get through what happens next. We’ll get through it together. Now is not forever. I promise it won’t always be this hard.”
“You can’t promise something like that,” I argue, my vulnerability on full display.
“Yes I can.”
Swallowing past the trepidation clogging my throat, I wrap my arms around her and hold her closer. “How do you know it won’t always be this hard?”
Shame washes over me. She shouldn’t be the one doing the comforting. She’s the one who compromised, sacrificed, gave up the option to marry any of the guys by settling for me.
“Because we’ll be together. And because I won’t leave you.”
I close my eyes and nod. Swallowing past the frustration, I choke out, “I’m sorry I pushed you away, Siren. I’m sorry I broke us and went back on my word. If I could take it all back—”
Fingertips rest against my lips, silencing me. But she doesn’t pull out of my hold. In fact, she cuddles closer, as if she knows exactly what I need in this moment.
She’s perfect. Perfect for me.
I was a goddamn fool, thinking I could trudge through this life without her.
“I know you’re sorry. I can’t just say I forgive you, though, because I want to fully mean it when I do. You’ll earn my forgiveness, Decker. I have faith you will. But you need to be patient with me. Respect that I’m still hurting. Give me time.”
I hurt her so badly. My already decimated heart cracks a little more each time I remember.
“I know,” I repeat.
“We’ll get there.”
Those three words feel more hopeful than any vows we’ve exchanged or promises we’ve made.
“I loved you,” she reminds me. “I think…” She trails off, rubbing the stubble along my jawline as she considers her words. “I think I can love you again. Don’t give up on me, Cap. Don’t give up on us.”
“I won’t,” I vow. “Never again.”