Chapter 24 #2
She sputters, then mutters something filthy in Italian under her breath. The language only makes my blood heat. She asks, "Where are we going?"
Anxiety leaps into my gut. I try to stay calm. "Finn and Brenna's."
Dead silence fills the line.
I check the phone to make sure the call hasn't dropped. "You still there?"
She answers in a low, tight voice, "Yes. You just shorted out my brain. Did you say Finn and Brenna's?"
My lips twitch. "Yep. Dinner at their place. Tonight at six, and we can't be late. Brenna wants to meet you."
"She what?"
I inform, "She came by my place. She isn't thrilled that she heard about our marriage from everyone except me."
Valentina cautiously asks, "So she's okay with me?"
My stomach flutters with nerves. I joke, "She ordered me to bring my wife to dinner so she could decide for herself whether to bury you or adopt you."
A strangled sound cracks down the line. "Those aren't comforting options."
I chuckle. "Minx, she wants you there. She wants to meet you."
Valentina blurts out, "What about Finn? Does he want me there?"
I collect my thoughts, then answer, "He'll deal with it."
"That sounds optimistic," she mutters, with hurt in her voice.
"Have I ever lied to you?"
"Yes."
I smirk. "Recently?"
A reluctant huff escapes her. "No."
"Then trust me again," I say, voice dropping. "I want you there, Valentina. I want you sitting at their table with me, not shunned from my family while everyone else decides who you are. And once they meet you, they'll love you as much as I do."
Tension explodes.
Did I just say I loved her?
It's just a phrase.
Do I?
I quickly add, "I'll be over after I finish working. See you then." I hang up before I get myself into more trouble.
Why did I say that?
I try to push it out of my mind and return to my office. I swivel my chair away from the monitors and stare at the city through the window. Traffic crawls. Clouds stack low. The apartment suddenly feels smaller than it did ten minutes ago.
"Fuck it," I mumble, get up, and go over to Valentina's, surprising her when I walk in unannounced.
She's in her closet, fretting over clothes. Her black satin robe's tied tight around her waist.
I ask, "What are you doing?"
She jumps, then spins like she's ready to assassinate me.
"Easy," I tease, holding up my hands.
"What are you doing here?"
I wiggle my eyebrows. "Missed my wife." I close the gap between us and kiss her long and hard. She whimpers against my mouth, clutching my shoulders, and then I retreat, repeating, "So what's going on in here?"'
She scrunches her face. "I don't know what to wear tonight."
"Something hot," I say with a grin.
She laughs and slaps my arm with the back of her hand. "I can't be too sexy."
"Minx, it doesn't matter what you wear. You're going to look sexy."
Her face heats.
I shuffle through her clothes, then pull out a red dress. It's not too fancy but still a showstopper. "Wear this. You look great in red."
"I do?"
"Duh."
She bites her lip.
My grin falls. "What's wrong?"
She doesn't respond for a second, then her tone softens. "What if they hate me?"
"They won't. They have to get to know you."
"You don't know that."
"I know Brenna. She'll be nervous and blunt and probably overshare, and by the end of the night, she'll probably hug you. But she understands you're mine, and I am not giving you up."
"That doesn't exactly fix the 'hate me' part."
"Yes, it does."
She exhales slowly, and something in my chest shifts with it. She glances at the garment. "Are you sure I should wear that dress?"
The question comes out smaller than her usual tone. I insist, "Wear it or pick something different. Whatever makes you walk into a room as if you could bulldoze it. But don't take your knife. We're aiming for approachable tonight."
"Says the man who gave me a weapon in my mask," she shoots back.
"That's for council business. Tonight is family. I'll carry the weapons."
She corrects, "Your family. Not mine."
I correct, "My family and yours. I'm not married to myself."
"You aren't?"
"Pretty sure."
Her eyes drift over me. She offers, "You clean up nicely, O'Malley." She smooths a hand over my chest. "Brenna will probably approve."
"I am not worried about Brenna's approval," I say, sliding my hands down to her hips. "I am worried about yours."
She arches a brow. "You think I would punish you for bringing me to dinner?"
"I think you might punish me later for how it goes," I answer, letting my thumbs trace slow circles against her dress. "So I think I need to collect interest in advance."
Her lips curve, eyes dropping to my mouth. "Interest?"
"Collateral," I amend, dipping my head.
I kiss her, not gently. There's no point pretending dinner is all that's on my mind.
Her mouth opens under mine, the taste sharp and addictive.
She steps in, closing the last of the distance, pressing fully against me.
One of her hands goes to the back of my neck, the other slides under my shirt at the hem. She drags her nails along my bare skin.
Relentless heat slams through me. I walk her backward until her knees hit the mattress and she tumbles onto it with a small, startled sound that turns into a low laugh.
"We're going to be late if I don't shower and wash my hair," she warns, even as she hooks a finger in my belt loop and pulls me down over her.
"Fashionably late," I murmur against her throat, kissing down the column of it, tasting the hint of whatever lotion she used, reveling in the way her breath hitches.
"If we are late, Brenna will blame me," she protests weakly.
"We won't be. There's plenty of time for a quickie. Besides, if we're late, I'll tell her I couldn't keep my hands off my wife."
Her pupils blow wide, and her fingers tighten at my nape.
I kiss her neck, murmuring, "My wife is coming to dinner after I ruin her lipstick."
"Then you'll have to take a shower to hide the evidence."
"Great. I'll show you a good time there, too," I boast.
She laughs, low and genuine, and whatever anxiety she had about tonight drains out of the room, replaced by something hotter, stronger, more dangerous. It has nothing to do with clans and councils and everything to do with us.
For a few stolen minutes, I'm convinced that everything will be okay.