Chapter 14
D o I want her?
What a stupid fucking question.
She’s nothing like I thought she would be and yet exactly what I didn’t even know I needed. The way she’s making her mark on the Clan already speaks volumes about the type of woman she is. Never mind the mark she’s made on me.
Seeing the pictures of her in that tiny silver dress, her long legs and all her curves on display, had me simultaneously hard as a rock and jealous as hell of every unworthy guy who got to lay eyes on what’s mine. The urge to track down everyone at the club and relieve them of their eyeballs is still gnawing at me.
I’m not above using what she revealed in her drunken texts to my advantage. Maybe there’s a shot at making this sham of a marriage into something real, or fuck, at least giving it a shot. Maybe a guy like me doesn’t deserve to get the girl, but I’m selfish enough to play dirty when it comes down to it.
With that thought ringing in my mind, I tune back into the meeting taking place. Alex and James Anderson, one of my capos, are here to finish ironing out the details of tomorrow’s plan to get these guns moving. Maybe I should be more invested in getting this deal off the ground, but thoughts of my wife in that scant piece of material masquerading as a dress have been distracting me all morning.
The sooner she’s home and we can talk about her little drunken revelations, the better.
“Welcome home, Princess.” Even hungover, in a hoodie that drowns her and wearing sunglasses that hide half her face, she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
And she doubts if I want her. It’d be cute if she wasn’t so mistaken.
“She’s a bit fragile, Lo.” Peter laughs as he gives her a side hug before leaving us to it. Cole also disappears with a dip of his chin to help Smithy take the bags inside before making themselves scarce.
“Yeah? Did someone have a tad too much to drink last night?” I tease her.
“Me and tequila are getting a divorce,” she grumbles as she slides her shades off to look at me with a sheepish expression.
As long as that’s the only divorce on her mind.
“Ah, tequila. Everyone’s worst enemy.” I pull her into a hug and continue, “It’s good to have you back. Want to come see your surprise?”
“Aw, did someone miss me?” She hip-checks me with a giggle before narrowing her eyes. “Wait, hold up a second, what surprise?”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t miss me too. I thought, what better way to ease the hangover than with a surprise,” I explain as I lead her into the house, ignoring her curious gaze.
As soon as we set foot in the living room, her gaze snaps straight to the bundle of fur curled up on the sofa. With a gasp, she rushes over, dropping to her knees in front of the golden retriever and the tabby cat that are curled around each other.
“What the fuck? Since when do you have pets?” she asks with a soft smile, extending her hand to pass the sniff test before gently stroking them.
“I don’t. But we do.” Shocked green eyes look up at me where I lean against the door frame, and I let out a laugh at the hesitant joy on her face.
“I don’t understand.”
“You mentioned you love animals, so I thought, what better way to make you feel at home here. The shelter also had a poster up advertising they need volunteers if that’s something you’re still interested in.” The look on her face says it all.
At least I got this right if nothing else.
“Logan, this is too much. Thank you, but I can’t force you to have pets in your home.” By now, the cat has wormed its way into her arms while the dog snuffles against her neck. It’s clear these guys are as drawn to her as I am.
“You’re not forcing me in the slightest. I love animals, I just don’t have the time needed to dedicate to them. And this is your home now too, Princess.” Watching her cheeks turn pink at the endearment has me biting back the smirk that threatens to take over my face.
“Logan, you’ve no idea what this means to me.” The shakiness in her tone as she looks at me expresses more than words ever could. It’s obvious to me now that it’s the little things that mean the most to my wife, which hammers home just how different she is from everyone I’ve ever known. Most of the time, people raised with the kind of money and connections that we have at our fingertips are obsessed with material things. Yet, her reaction to two adopted animals far outweighs her reaction to any fancy dinner I’ve taken her to. She couldn’t be more perfect if she tried, and I don’t think she even realizes how special she is.
Coughing to dislodge the sudden rock in my throat, I rasp, “I’ll leave you three to get to know each other. I’m going to shower before dinner and then I was thinking after dinner we could have that talk, yeah?”
The deer-in-headlights look on her face says it all, and before she can fumble up some excuse to delay talking about things, I leave the room. And if visions of her in that dress flash through my mind as I shower? Well, that’s between me, myself, and I.
One slightly awkward dinner later, Abigail is curled up on the sofa with the cat in her lap and the dog's head resting on her feet. It’s clear seeing her with animals that that’s exactly where she belongs. It’s her happy place.
“So, you missed me, huh?” I say to break the silence that has washed over the room, taking my seat on the opposite end of the sofa.
“I don’t have a clue what you're on about.” It’s cute she thinks she can evade this talk that easily.
“Come on, Princess. Don’t be like that. A little birdie texted me last night, and I think you know a little something about that.” I twist onto my hip, with my arm thrown across the back of the sofa, to face her.
“Okay fine, maybe I texted you. But in my defence, I can't be blamed for what the tequila made me say. Tequila Abbie and sober Abbie are two very different people, I’ll have you know,” she sasses with a quirked eyebrow as she runs her fingers through the cat's fur, getting a series of purrs in thanks.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, I missed you too. More than I expected to, and when I saw your Instagram post? I was kicking my own ass that I couldn’t be there to see that in person,” I growl and watch the blush coat her cheeks. Making her blush might just be my new favourite hobby, and I’m half tempted to keep score.
I’m even more tempted to discover just how far that blush extends.
“You approved, huh?” She’s such a fucking tease. I love it and yet I can’t wait to punish her for it. Just the thought of putting her over my knee has my jeans getting uncomfortably tight. The vision of her reddened ass that follows does fuck all to help.
“If you could have seen the effect it had on me, you’d know damn well I did.” At my admission, her eyes grow wide and her lips part, which has me fighting back a groan. Fuck, she’s killing me. But what a way to go.
What I wouldn’t give to have those lips wrapped around my cock.
“Are you saying that you do want me?” Why she’s so shocked, I don’t know. She’s a knockout with a huge heart, anyone who wouldn’t want her is a fool.
“More than anything.”
“But what about...” she trails off, looking down.
“What?” I sit forward, bracing my elbows on my knees as I watch her pick at her nails.
“Listen, it’s no secret that in our circles, the girls tend to come to these marriages at a disadvantage. And I’m sure someone like you has a lot of offers on the side.” She spits out her words, looking like she’s chewing glass, and it’s all I can do to remain seated when every nerve ending in my body is demanding I beat the shit out of whoever planted that thought in her pretty head.
“Offers on the side? Fuck that shit. I won't lie and say I’m coming into this inexperienced, but anything that happened before my meeting with your dad and Jonathan doesn’t matter now. Ask Alex, I never even saw the same girl twice, and I sure as shit didn’t have an emotional connection with any of them. If you’re sitting there thinking I’m planning on having mistresses, you can get that thought out of your head. I want you. I want to explore this marriage with you, and everyone else can go to hell.”
Arranged marriage or not, I take my vows seriously, and if she turned me down here and now, I’d resign myself to a life of celibacy. The thought of stepping out on my wife holds no appeal to me. Which is precisely why I made sure any of my past hook-ups knew the score. The last thing I would ever want is for my past to hurt my future.
“If you really mean that…then yes... I want you too. And I want to have a real marriage more than anything,” she whispers, looking up at me with vulnerability splashed across her face. Bracketing her face between my hands, I rest my forehead against hers before leaning down and sealing my mouth to hers in a gentle kiss, pouring every inch of my desire for her into it.