Chapter Seven #4

He watched patiently as Violet dug through the rice, delicately sampling a mouthful. Her quiet hum of pleasure slipped through his veins like scotch, addictive and mellow. She chewed slowly, her eyes closed, evidently enjoying what had been his breakfast.

“Allan has outdone himself yet again.” She scooped up another forkful and offered it to Reaux.

“Peace offering?”

“I stole your breakfast; the least I can do is share.”

“You can share the rest of my life with me, Bennie.” He accepted the food, humming in appreciation as a myriad of flavors assaulted his tongue. It wasn’t the best dirty rice he’d tasted, but the cook sure knew what he was doing—it catapulted to the top five of Reaux’s favorites.

With a quick swirl of her wrist, Violet jabbed the fork at the ring box.

“What exactly is that supposed to be? Am I meant to accept it and forget the past two years ever happened? Just magically heal everything you broke? I might understand your reasons more, Boudreaux, but the hurt… the hurt and the fact I don’t trust you not to do it again is scoring a big, black mark through your name. ”

Okay, that was a start. Of course, it meant he was sliding halfway down the hill toward failure, but he was nothing if not a fighter. If he was destined to claw and crawl his way back to the top, he would damn well do whatever was required to make it there.

“No. It’s a ring, a symbol of love and fidelity, not an eraser.

It’s a reminder of the ten years we had where love bound us, a promise that these two years will never be repeated, and a vow that the future is ours to hold together.

” Reaux picked up the box, rolling it back and forth on his palm.

“I spoke with Elias at length earlier, before the logical part of my brain succumbed to fatigue. The contract is cancelled.”

Barely a flicker of reaction. Slowly, Violet continued to eat, offering every other mouthful to him.

At least she wasn’t trying to stab the fork down his throat; that was an improvement.

When the plate was cleared, she set the fork down, dabbed her mouth daintily with the napkin, and gave him a look he imagined an empress lanced a peasant with when he displeased her.

“The contract stands,” she said calmly, taking a sip of juice. “With some amendments. I haven’t forgiven you, I can’t admit that I love you, but there is a part of me—the foolish idiot who fell for you in the first place—that insists a second chance is warranted.”

“Well, that part is obviously incredibly smart.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Boudreaux. I realize my attitude toward the situation is going to have to change, and I can’t guarantee that will happen immediately.

Being a five-star bitch comes naturally to me now, particularly where you’re concerned.

” Another sip of juice, a thoughtful swipe of her tongue over an errant drop at the corner of her lips.

“Sleeping in the same bed is permitted, even encouraged, I suppose. Ideally, intimacy needs to be reestablished. However, there will be no sex without a condom; until we confirm a pregnancy, or in the event this is a false alarm, I decide whether procreating with you is a good idea, we use protection.”

“Bennie,” Reaux advised gently. “You’re talking like a lawyer setting out terms, not two people rekindling a relationship.”

“Because I’m scared, Reaux. I’m terrified that a second chance for you becomes the end of me. I won’t survive the heartbreak you bring again.”

The next fifty years of his life were going to be spent making sure she never felt this way again, he swore it on the graves of his forefathers. Being blind to the mistakes he’d made was no excuse, and she was right to hold him accountable for them. “Come here.”

She glanced around, clearly uncomfortable by the number of people arriving for breakfast. The tables were getting full, Petey had vanished into the kitchen, and new faces were appearing in the starched waitstaff uniforms.

“Come here, Bennie. Making me wait won’t revoke the command.”

“I alluded to amendments. Obeying you is not one of them.”

“It is now. I told you I want equality. Each of us submissive when the other needs it. I’m not opposed to sharing, never have been, but it is imperative that we rely on each first and foremost.” He flipped the box again, then held it out to her.

“This belongs to you, regardless of the contract or a baby. I want my queen by my side, Bennie.”

Ignoring his outstretched hand, Violet pushed her chair back and rose, rounding the table with all the confidence of a Domme in her element. Standing in front of him, she set her hands on her hips. “If you want me to sit, Boudreaux, you’re going to have to move.”

A slow grin curved his mouth. “Yes’m.”

“Don’t look so smug.” The moment he made space between his chair and the table, she slid gracefully on to his lap, her ass fitting perfectly against him.

They’d spent a lot of time like this once. Watching a movie, sitting and talking with friends, any excuse for her to snuggle into him. His arms moved of their own volition, automatically curling around her waist and settling into position where they’d always been most comfortable.

Just right.

Reaux sighed contentedly as his chin rested on her shoulder. This was what coming home felt like. It didn’t matter if it was sex, comfort, simple or accidental touching; when Violet was the sole focus of his attention again, every moment gave him the same soothing elation.

It wasn’t quite the same, of course. Rather than relaxing into him, Violet held herself stiffly, still maintaining that physical barrier between them; for now, he’d allow it. As far as he was concerned, this was a monumental step in the right direction.

“Keep hold of the ring, Reaux,” she murmured, laying her hand on top of the one he clutched the box in. “Maybe, if we get past the elephant in the room and I refrain from murdering you in your sleep, I’ll ask for it one day.”

Hmm, one day didn’t really fit in with his plans.

His new and improved plans. Perhaps if a child wasn’t involved, he could extend his preferred deadline for marriage, but if there was…

it was going to be welcomed into the world with his name on the birth certificate, into a family bound with love, trust, and the damned ring.

He’d lost her once through stupidity.

Through his own desire to control the situation as best he could.

Never again was he going through anything like the past two years; Violet needed security, safety, to know she was loved beyond all else, and he was going to give it all to her come hell or high water.

But for now…

This was enough.

Violet

Two days later, she couldn’t decide if she’d made yet another disastrous mistake.

For two nights, she’d slept in the same bed as Reaux, careful not to touch him even as her body attempted several times to instigate some kind of connection. In all fairness, he’d respected her restraint, keeping his hands to himself, as well as that phenomenal dick she craved.

Her mood reflected her inner turmoil, and she was on the verge of verbally decapitating someone or dragging Reaux into the dungeon to punish him for his part in denying her what she damn well needed.

It felt like she was losing her mind, torn between keeping him at arm’s length and needing him as close as he could physically manage.

Despite her internal turmoil, she’d abided by her new rules—she kept her mouth shut before any insults slipped out… well, most of them; Reaux made it so damn easy for her sometimes. She was more accommodating, open to sharing her personal space.

In some respects, it felt similar to what they’d had before.

In others, it was awkwardly different.

She’d caught him a few times with those beautiful eyes lingering on her belly, full of profound longing and hope. It didn’t take a genius to understand where his thoughts were; when it came to the idea of being a father, he was obviously all in.

Violet grimaced, thinking of her own father.

Returning to Louisiana meant telling her family she was home, and that was the least attractive prospect of all.

They didn’t know about her career, wouldn’t approve of it, and if she went back pregnant, single, unmarried…

well, Reaux might just find himself staring down the barrel of her father’s shotgun.

Of course, he wouldn’t mind—he’d strut to the preacher with a smug smile on his face and a cocky hitch in his step.

The way things were at the moment, she was the one who’d be poked down the aisle with the gun; her father was traditional, old-school, and hell would rule on earth before his daughter gave birth to a bastard.

“—to Violet. I repeat, earth to Violet.”

Disorientated, she lifted her gaze to meet Merrick’s calm, amused stare. “Huh?”

“Real succinct there, Mistress. Ready to finish the conversation, or do you need to continue with your nap?”

“Oh, bite me.”

“Think Boudreaux’s the man for that job. He’s been eating you up from across the room for about ten minutes now. I figured you were getting laid on the regular, but judging by the way he’s walking, the guy’s got blue balls.”

She narrowed her eyes. “That’s a personal observation coming from you, Merrick.”

Huge shoulders shrugged. “Callin’ it like I see it. Don’t look as tired and washed out as you did a few days ago. The air’s different between you two now, not as strained, more… peaceful. There’s still some unresolved tension, mind you.”

Oh, didn’t she know it. It was emanating from her side of the line, that shimmer of distrust and uneasiness. If it was visible, she imagined it as a thick, corded cable tying her to Reaux, glowing gold at its strongest, wavering to shades of red and black at its weakest.

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