Chapter 23
BELLA
I slept for nine hours and still feel like I haven’t slept at all.
As I head downstairs, I’m greeted by the sweet smell of pancakes.
“Morning,” Reggie says.
“Morning,” I reply, clipped.
He’s not getting out of the doghouse that easy.
He slides me a plate stacked with pancakes, strawberries, and a generous drizzle of caramel syrup.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
“Look, Bella—” he sighs.
I hold up a hand. “Save it. I get it. You didn’t mean it. You’re sorry you missed dinner. We can be friends. Or, let’s say amicable for the duration of our marriage. I’ll behave as well as I have to in public for you, but we can live separate lives.”
He grabs the back of his neck. It’s like he thinks I’m a walking headache.
“Look, I can move out if you want. I have plenty of money,” I suggest.
“What? No.”
I bite back a grin. I like figuring out how to make him tick.
I take a bite of his food and force down the moan threatening to escape. He doesn’t deserve that noise from me yet.
“These are tasty. I thought you didn’t like sweet things.”
“Maybe I’m trying.”
There’s an undercurrent in his voice, something softer, but he buries it fast.
I nod slowly, meeting his eyes and hiding the reaction he always drags out of me.
“I spoke to Declan,” he says. “I’ve got a computer and desk being set up for you in my office today. Drago’s coming over to give you the rundown.”
I smile, genuinely this time. “Thank you, Irish. Now… Drago—he’s the Russian guy, right?” I tap the side of my head, trying to recall scraps of information. “Charlotte—Declan’s wife—her friend?”
Reggie cracks a small smile. “I’m impressed.”
Fuck. It’s praise. I’ll take it. Let’s see how far I can push him. I’m bored.
“Wow. A compliment from Reggie. Next you’ll be calling me a good girl.”
He chokes on his coffee, and I do everything I can to hide my smile.
“Actually,” I continue, “if you want, you can get me a sticker chart for the wall. We’ll put gold stars up when I’ve been good. With all this cooking and cleaning I’ll be getting rewards in no time.”
He stares, unreadable, so I keep going.
“Wait—you can have one too. We’ll see who’s been the better spouse that week. Chores, cooking, food shopping—all the boring married-life shit you’ve sucked me into.”
I rest my chin on my hand.
“Absolutely not,” he chuckles.
“Aw. You’re no fun.”
He arches a brow. “I can be.”
“Oh? Do I have to warm you up to two hundred degrees first to thaw you out? Maybe wait a year before you become fun?”
He shakes his head. “What are you doing, Princess?”
My cheeks heat. That nickname hits me right where it shouldn’t, and he knows it.
“What I do best,” I say around another mouthful. “Being. A. Brat.”
I poke my tongue out at him for good measure.
“I told you, you get the real Bella now. Get ready for every single button you have to be pressed.”
I jab my nail into his bicep as I pass.
He grabs my wrist, glare sharp enough to cut. “Careful. You might end up pushing a button you’ll regret.”
That warning tone makes my pussy ache. That deep, commanding voice, enough to make me fall to my knees.
“That’s the fun part.”
I wink at him, grab my plate, and take it to the sink.
“Gold star for you. Good breakfast.” I pause, turning with a smirk. “But you’re on minus ten, so you’ve got some catching up to do, Irish.”
He chuckles as he stands, almost coming to life.
He brushes past me to grab his gun from the counter.
“Careful,” I warn. “I wouldn’t leave that out near me.”
He looks down at me, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“You gonna shoot me, Princess?”
I bite my lip, looking up through my lashes. “Ask my brothers about me. Don’t test me, Irish. And never miss a dinner I’ve cooked special for you.”
He blinks, unreadable. He’s either impressed or imagining me pressed against the counter, I can’t tell.
“I’ll see you after work. Drago will be here shortly. Play nice. I’ve got a surprise for you this afternoon.”
“You gonna make it home for dinner, or you planning to go get your dick wet at the club?” I ask as he backs away.
His face doesn’t flinch. “What club?”
A smirk tugs at my lips. “You tell me.”
He shakes his head and waves as he leaves.
I blow him a kiss, then flip him off as the door closes. I need to know more about this damn club.
The knock at the door makes me jump. I wipe flour off my hands onto my apron and dash to answer it.
When I do, I’m greeted by a beautiful blonde. Tall, curves to die for, and blue eyes that burn into me.
“Hi.” She smiles brightly.
I frown. Should I know who this is? I’ve been given the rundown, but she isn’t on the list. Then my stomach sinks. Is she here for Reggie?
It’s quite clear he and Rowan have a string of women. And it seems blonde, beautiful ones are their type.
“Hey. Are you looking for Reggie?” I ask cautiously.
She laughs and shakes her head. “No. God, no.” Her eyes go wide. “I’m Lily. You’re Bella, right?” She extends her hand and I shake it, still confused. But I nod.
“Yeah, I’m Bella.” I smile.
“I’m here to take you wedding dress shopping. Hallie was supposed too, but her son has a temperature. And I actually know the boutique owner who managed to squeeze us in today.”
Her gaze flicks to my flour-dusted clothes and messy bun.
“Wedding dress shopping?” I blink. “Reggie organized this?”
She nods with a smile. “Yep. He wants you to have the full bridal experience. No expense spared.”
That makes me grin. “No expense? Doesn’t sound like my grumpy fiancé at all.”
“He’s part of the Quinns. They’re rich, rich.”
I chuckle. My family’s the same; money’s boring. But the idea of getting a reaction out of Reggie with this? Now that’s entertaining.
“Let me get changed. You can always finish off my cookies if you want?” I tease.
“Haha, no thanks. I don’t want dough under my nails. Oh, Reggie said he left his black Amex for you in his bedroom. On the side table.”
“Cool. Be right back.”
I dash upstairs, freshen up, and slip into a pink sundress. By the time I swipe on some clear lip oil, I hear a deep voice downstairs. My pulse kicks.
When I come down, I skid to a halt. Rowan. His dark eyes lock on mine, and heat rushes up my neck before I can stop it.
“Hey, you,” he says with that boyish grin.
“Hi.” My voice comes out quiet, betraying me.
He puts me on edge in a forbidden, sexy kind of way.
I drift toward him, resting my hands on the counter beside his. He looks like sin in denim and a tight white tee.
“Coffee? Do we have time?” I ask Lily, who’s hovering awkwardly by the machine.
“We’ve got twenty minutes. I can make them,” she says quickly, stepping back like she can feel the current sparking between me and Rowan.
“You look cute in that dress,” he whispers.
“You look handsome in those jeans, rockstar.”
He wiggles his brows. “Handsome, huh?” He swipes his thumb across his lip, eyes fixed on me.
“What are you doing here? Aren’t you working with Reggie today? I assumed being twins you’d be joined at the hip.”
He shoves a hand in his pocket, leaning in just enough to make me shiver. “I am working today. A very important job.”
“And that is?”
He lowers his voice. “I’m your bodyguard for the day.”
I scoff. “Trust me, I don’t need a bodyguard.”
He clicks his tongue. “Your fiancé said you do. And here I am. Like magic.” He waves his hand like a showman.
“My fairy godmother. You know we’re going wedding dress shopping, right?”
He blows out a breath. “Sounds… fun.”
I smack his arm. “You mean you can see why Reggie bailed?”
He frowns and shakes his head. “It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress. Reg’s superstitious like that. Got it from our loopy mother.”
That makes me laugh. “Your mom was crazy? Or is?”
He shrugs, but there’s no humor in it. “Yeah. She thought she was a witch. Like, a real one. Turns out ninety percent of the time she was high as a kite on shrooms.”
“Jesus. That’s awful. Do you speak to her now?” I ask gently.
A shadow crosses his face. The first time I’ve seen anything but carefree Rowan. He looks younger, lost.
“Our parents died when we were thirteen. Drug deal gone bad. Both shot dead. Probably the best thing to happen to us, though. Our lives were shit. The Quinns gave us a real shot.”
I slip an arm around him without thinking. He hugs me back, resting his head against mine.
“Don’t feel sorry for me,” he whispers.
“Why not?”
His heart hammers against my ribs. “Because I’m good now. I’m happy. It all turned out fine.”
My throat tightens. Tears burn. I don’t talk about my parents. I can’t, not without drowning in images of my father’s death. But, for some reason, the words fall out.
“My dad was shot too. I saw it.”
He cuddles me even closer, resting his head on the top of mine. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”
It feels too easy in his arms, so I force myself to pull away.
“You can talk about it whenever you want with me, Bels. I’ll always listen.”
I sniffle to hold back my tears, I will not cry. “Same goes to you, rockstar. I’m here for you.”
Rowan clears his throat, nodding toward Lily, who’s still wrestling with Reggie’s expensive coffee machine.
“Go help her. But please get me your caramel syrup,” I say, batting my lashes.
He winks. “I hid a bottle in Reggie’s cupboard. Well out of his reach so he won’t throw it away.”
That makes me smile. It’s the little things a girl notices.