Chapter Twenty-Five
In which Luna finally gets her hands on a deep-fried Snickers bar and nothing will ever be the same.
Kai…
“I have one regret.” Luna yawns, looking wistful.
Did she regret having sex with me?
“What do you regret?” I ask patiently.
“Did you see those hors d'oeuvres at the party? There was lobster in phyllo cups, brie toast with some kind of bacon jam, asparagus wraps… though those would be awkward to consume in an evening gown.”
“So, you’re saying that you’re hungry and nothing at home will satisfy you.” I correctly interpret her wishes, and it pleases me more than it should.
“Yes, please!” Her face lights up. “You know what I’ve heard? That Scottish fish and chips are better than the fish and chips in London. Let’s put that to the test.”
“Ian. Head for Mr. Chippie, please.”
Luna let out a little squeal, clapping her hands. Her unabashed enthusiasm for food makes me wonder if she’s gone hungry before. I know from the background report that her aunt made her work two after-school jobs to “pay for herself” during high school, and the woman still threw her out the minute she was no longer legally required to keep her.
Mr. Chippie looms ahead in all its high-fat glory and I stifle a sigh. My bride insists on ordering food for Ian and Angus too, as well as the night guards taking their place because “They never get anything tasty.”
“Wait!” Luna leans closer to the lit sign. “Deep-fried Snickers Bar? That sounds amazing! Get four of those, too.”
“Those aren’t authentically Scottish,” I grumble, but the rest of the car ignores me, Angus trying desperately not to laugh. I can always put him on cleanup duty at one of our “special” warehouses. He’s getting too attached to Luna.
Frowning, I consider what I’m feeling. Is this shite jealousy? Because it’s an irritant I could do without. Angus is a large, muscled soldier with a thrice-broken nose that healed pointing to the right. He’s about my age, and he’s been with my crew since I graduated from the Ares Academy. Why the feck would I get upset if he and Luna like each other? It might make him even more invested in his assignment.
I’m not jealous. That’s fecking ridiculous.
The bags of food fill up the backseat, and Luna offers to sit on my lap to, “Give the fries some room. We don’t want them to get squished.”
“Aye.” I shift a little because her pert arse landed right on my cock. “But if ya dinna stop wiggling around, I’m putting up the privacy screen, and those fries are gonna get flattened.”
She freezes in place, clutching one of the bags to her chest. I wince, seeing the grease stain spreading over the paper container and no doubt transferring itself to her dress.
“No problem. I can be still,” she promises. “But I’m going to try one of the deep-fried Snickers bars right now.”
My bride has the fried abomination unwrapped and a chunk is already in her mouth before I can tell her, “No eating in the fecking car!”
Too late. She’s groaning with happiness, setting the carton down on my imported Aniline leather seats. The upgrade cost ￡35,000, and they’re about to be despoiled by a ￡3 candy bar bathing in grease.
Still… It’s hard to get too upset when I hear Luna’s almost pornographic groan of joy. Unfortunately, her wiggles of happiness are giving me a stonner.
Everyone gathers around the kitchen island to gorge on fish and chips. I peel the coating off a piece of haddock and eat it, just so Luna canna accuse me of being a food snob. Angus and Ian know better than to accept her offer of a bottle of beer and quickly absent themselves, dragging the night guards with them.
“That was fun,” Luna says, humming a little as she cleans up the rubble from her foray into proper fish and chips.
“Which part?” I raise my brow, enjoying her flushed cheeks.
She looks me right in the eyes as she drawls, “All of it.” The heat is sparking between us again and then she adds, “Especially the deep-fried Snickers.”
I’m second place to a fecking candy bar?
“That does it.” I throw Luna over my shoulder, heading for the stairs.
“What are you doing?” She indignantly smacks my back.
My uncomfortably hard cock is spared a direct hit from her flailing feet as I slap her arse, hard, and pull off her heels. “I’m thinking ya dinna remember the night clearly,” I say, heading for my- our bedroom. “Time for a refresher.”
Her kicking feet stop, and I feel the tension in her little body. Sliding her off my shoulder and taking some time to rub her against the length of me on the way down, I study her expression.
“This is our bedroom,” I say firmly. “I would like ya to be in our bed. Not just for sex. Though I do want to fuck ya into submission at this particular moment.”
“I appreciate your openness and transparency,” she says dryly.
“What do ya say?”
She’s still unsure, examining my expression, and the thought hits me. Ya should tell her about her grandfather now. Get it out of the way. Ya should tell her that you’ve called him. When she goes up on tiptoe to kiss me, I shove that thought away.
I’ll tell her in a couple of days.
I wake up to an empty bed, shoving aside my disappointment. Did Luna lose her nerve after another round in my bed and a third in the shower? I recall the vision of soap suds slipping down her breasts and taut stomach, and I’m instantly hard. Again.
Muttering in the master bath sends me in that direction after I pull on some sweats to cover up my obvious erection. Luna’s bent over the tiled counter, carefully dabbing at her dress from last night.
“Morning, my bride.”
“Morning,” she echoes, gaze darting away from my crotch. “I dripped some grease on my dress last night! I think I’ve almost got it out, though.”
“We can send it to the launderers to be dry cleaned, dinna worry.”
“Well, I’m not going to be the one to ruin such a gorgeous dress,” she continues, eyeing another stain before starting in on it. “I’m sure it cost some outrageous amount.”
“Fifteen thousand pounds,” I shrug. “If it’s ruined, I’ll get ya another one.” It’s as if I’d suggested setting her hair on fire. The look of horror is… there’s that word again. Adorable.
“What? You can buy a car for fifteen thousand!” Despite her outrage, she carefully hangs up the dress before descending on me. “I’m glad I didn’t know how much this dress cost last night. I couldn’t have worn it. I would have been too stressed out about ruining it. Why would you spend that kind of money on a dress?”
I frown, confused by her outrage. “Because I knew you’d look beautiful in it.”
This does not seem to help. “Do you have time to go out with me today?” she asks.
Checking my watch, “I have a quick meeting with Uncle Cormac and Da, then I’m yours the rest of the day.”
Her grin is large and slightly unsettling. “Excellent.”