28. Willow
For a moment, I was too stunned to process any of it, but then I had to blurt the first stupid thing that came to mind.
Your father sure got around? I was such an idiot.
I instantly regretted the words. I should have shown some compassion, or at least waited to see how Royce would take the news.
“Does Winston know?” Royce demanded, his expression neutral, but he wasn’t fooling me. There was an undercurrent of merciless rage in him, the visible tic in his jaw telling me he was pissed.
Asher shoved the hand that wasn’t holding the rum into his suit pocket, an air of indifference swirling around him. Yet, I got the distinct feeling the opposite was true.
“Not that I owe you any explanation, but no. He does not.” Fury emanated off him in waves, but to his credit, he kept a lid on it.
I swallowed, but neither man paid any attention to me. Their gazes were locked in a silent battle of wills.
“And how long have you fucking known?” Royce hissed.
Asher’s expression remained neutral. “I don’t answer to you—we’ve been over this.” He took a casual sip of his drink, then placed it on the table next to him. “But in case you haven’t noticed, my name is Asher. It was the closest she could come to giving me the name your father denied us. Asher… Ashford.” He waved a hand in a Let’s go, catch up kind of gesture.
“Where is your mother now?” Royce growled. “I want to know why she was spreading her legs for my father under my mother’s roof. Has she no shame?”
My eyes widened, flying between the two men. Royce was easygoing and less intense than his brothers. Until he got pissed off. Then he let loose the wrath he had bottled up in his gorgeous body.
Asher’s big body slammed into my husband’s, making the frames behind them rattle from the impact. I squealed, trying to insert myself between them, and pushed at Asher’s chest. The man was pure muscle.
“Stop it, both of you,” I hissed. “Or you’ll have a pregnant psycho on your hands.”
The threat seemed to work because they straightened up, Asher taking a step back and putting some distance between them.
“Ever occurred to you that maybe my mother had no choice?” Asher finally said. “Your father was a pig.”
The meaning behind his words sunk in, and I could feel Royce’s body burn with that familiar anger he reserved for his father.
I cleared my throat, squaring my shoulders before my husband could do something he’d regret.
“Well, technically, Asher, he’s your father too.” His eyes twitched, but I didn’t back down. I turned to Royce, tugging on his arm. “And you, my dear husband, can’t blame Asher for who his parents are. He had no control over any of it.”
They seemed unmoved, but at least the temperature had somewhat eased. I didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire of whatever was developing here, but I also didn’t want to pretend it wasn’t my problem. Just like Royce always had my back, I was determined to have his.
“Asher, where is your mother?”
“She died,” he answered flatly. “Suicide.”
I bit my lip, sorrow washing over me. It was another example of how lucky I was. My parents were… well, normal. Yes, we’d had our ups and downs, but our relationship didn’t hold a candle to the Ashford family drama.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured.
“I’m sorry too,” Royce murmured, and when I chanced a glance at him, I saw genuine remorse floating in his eyes. Both men had lost their mothers—I could only hope that maybe one day they’d bond over it. “I am curious about one thing.”
“What’s that?” Asher asked.
“Why are you working as a captain for Amon Leone? It’s obvious you’re loaded,” Royce said, swiftly changing the subject. Knowing Royce, he’d wait to explore this newfound half-sibling relationship until he spoke to Aurora and his brothers.
“I’m not at liberty to disclose that,” Asher answered.
Royce shot him a disapproving glance, but I bumped my shoulder against him, giving him a pointed look. He couldn’t exactly blame Asher for being distrustful. I could imagine trust was hard to come by when you grew up watching your father carry on living his privileged life, appearing like father of the year.
“Well, if you ever need help, you got my number,” Royce said reluctantly. “Although, the next time you set me up to transport your illegal goods, I’ll have to shoot you.”
And just like that, the tension eased up.
Taking my hand from the crook of his arm, Royce led me down the elaborate staircase. A tender, sorrowful Chopin melody filled the air, the piano notes slowing down, then speeding up only to slow down again, but it was all just background noise as I focused on the man at my side.
“You okay?” I whispered under my breath, throwing a look over my shoulder to ensure we were alone. Asher disappeared after receiving a call, and we were steadily making our way toward this… immersive party. “If you want, we can leave.”
“Fuck no. The guy had us smuggling goods for him. The least he can do is provide us with a good time.” He bent his head, his mouth brushing against my ear. “Besides, I’m curious to see your reaction.”
My stomach dipped at the dark gleam in his eyes, the very same one he wore when he fucked me, and a small burst of excitement washed over me.
“Willow, if you keep looking at me that way, we’ll never make it to the party.”
I laughed, bumping my shoulder with his. “Sorry, I should try to keep my naughty thoughts off my face.”
“Want me to do naughty things to you, wife?” he drawled, the smooth timbre of his voice sending a warm shiver down my spine. Combined with the cum I could feel trickling from my core, tonight was shaping up to be a long night.
“If I knew you were this insatiable, I would have thought twice about marrying you,” I teased, lying through my teeth, but suddenly his expression turned serious and his steps halted.
“Am I being… too much?”
I shot him a surprised look, my humor evaporating. His expression was guarded, but vulnerability shone through, and suddenly, I saw him a little clearer. Saw things I’d missed over the last decade. I took his big, veiny hands into mine and squeezed.
“I was teasing. You could never be too much, Royce,” I said, locking eyes with him. “You’re just enough. I’ve had a crush on you for years. Since high school, actually.”
His lips lifted. “I was too old for you.”
“Our age difference hasn’t changed.”
“But we have.”
“We’ve changed.” I nodded. “But there’s one thing I want you to know.” He stilled, waiting for me to continue. “There isn’t a single part of you that I don’t love. You’re perfect the way you are,” I breathed, emotions suffocating me. “You’ve always been perfect.”
“I’m not,” he rasped, emotions swirling behind those dark eyes.
“You are to me.” He cupped my face, his rough palms gentle, and he bent his head down to brush the tip of his nose against mine. I breathed a sigh, loving his closeness. “I don’t want you to ever hold back with me, Royce,” I told him seriously, pressing my lips to his and hoping I could make him understand without having to say it outright. “I want you to do it all with me.”
He looked at me with reverence and his sensual masculinity set flame to my blood like a match in gasoline.
“I love you, baby.” My heart took flight and I feared it’d never come back to earth. I felt light as a feather, watching his dark eyes sparkle and dance. Memories spanning back to the first time we kissed flashed through my mind, and I sighed when he said, “You and this baby are mine. It took me too long to see it, but now, I’ll shout it from the rooftops. Nothing will keep us apart anymore. You and I, baby, we’ve been a decade in the making.”
Tears blurred my vision as I lifted on my toes and pressed a kiss to his mouth.
“Do you mean it?” I whispered, so many feelings suffocating me. He nodded while I struggled with my roller coaster of emotions. “Please be sure.” My voice trembled. “I can’t be a footnote in your life, Royce. I want it all.”
His nose brushed against mine, his eyes darkening into a burning coal.
“Willow, I mean every word. I love you and I want to do it all with you. With you and only you.”
My heart ricocheted in my chest as the butterflies in my stomach fluttered wildly. “Oh, Royce, I love you too.”
His hand tightened around my waist. “You do?”
“I never got over you.” Everything about this man was perfect. “It took you sweeping in like Prince Charming for me to understand. To realize it was you all along who held my heart and why I couldn’t find happiness elsewhere.”
Things would have been simpler if I had, but life had a way of working itself out.
A door opened somewhere in the distance, and the thundering of the waterfall drifted through the air, mixing with the melodies of Chopin. It was the reminder we needed—we had a party to get to.
I took a step, my shoe slipping off, but before I could fix it, Royce was down on his knees, sliding the shoe back on my foot.
“Cinderella was always my favorite fairy tale,” I half-teased.
A burst of laughter from the ballroom shattered through the air, and he straightened to his full height.
“Mine too,” he whispered against my ear. “I always wanted my own Cinderella and now I got you.”
The whisper was full of velvet promises, making my nipples tighten into hard, aching points. Blood roared in my ears and drowned out everything else except my heartbeats. We started walking again, my hand back in the crook of Royce’s elbow while an electric current ran through my veins.
“This isn’t the most romantic place to have admitted my love for you,” he remarked wryly, glaring in the direction of the party.
I let out a strangled laugh, unable to suppress the happiness glowing in my chest. “It was perfect.” I let my eyes soften as I spoke that word again.
His heated gaze lingered on me. This was real. He was real, and he was all mine. No matter what.
“How did I get so fucking lucky?” There was a roughness to his voice, and I got the sense we were feeling the same emotions.
“I could ask you the same question,” I said with a smile. His mouth skimmed over my cheeks, only to return to the corner of my lips.
“You know, I don’t regret our kiss ten years ago. It’s still the only kiss that’s ever mattered to me.” My eyes widened at his proclamation before a flush rose over my cheeks. “I only regret not making you mine sooner.”
I swallowed past the knot of emotion in my throat as a sudden feeling of apprehension washed over me. I placed a hand over my stomach and said, “What about my baby, Royce? Won’t it bother you that I?—”
Before I could say anything else, he nipped my bottom lip. Hard.
“Our baby,” he corrected me. “We’ll raise the baby together.”
“What about Stuart?”
His hand came to cover mine, rubbing affectionately. His soft smile spread through me like honey. “I’ll make sure our baby boy or girl is safe.”
His answer made me giddy, and his willingness to do this for me—with me—sent a current of want through me. Family came in all shapes and sizes, and ours would be no different.
It was pointless to think about Stuart and what Royce did to him—the mere thought had me wincing—but the fact of the matter was that my husband was overprotective, hot-tempered, and vengeful. I’d always loved and accepted those things about him.
“Now, show me to this kinky party, I want to see what it’s all about,” I teased him softly. “And then you can take me back to our boat and show me everything you like.”