Chapter 8
Emerson~
R amsey was pissed, but he was doing his best not to ruin lunch. Because we were both always so busy, this little lunch date was actually a big deal, and I could appreciate how he was trying not to let his mental defects win. Though we always went home to each other at the end of the evening, seeing him during the day was always a nice surprise, and it’d be stupid to ruin it over something or someone that didn’t matter.
As Ramsey opened the door to Dimitri’s for me, we waited for the hostess to greet us, and if I were a lesser woman, I’d be annoyed by how her blue eyes immediately widened in appreciation when she finally got a good look at my husband. Luckily for me, other women didn’t intimidate me, and I was a better person for it. I couldn’t imagine feeling insecure, threatened, or depressed every single time a woman shot Ramsey an appreciative glance. I mean, how stupid would it be to resent women for reacting to him the same way that I’d had when I’d first met him.
Like it happened yesterday, I could remember every second of when I’d first seen Ramsey, and though the memory wasn’t a pleasant one, there was no denying that Ramsey’s looks had made a huge impact on me that first night. They were probably also part of the reason that he’d been able to control everyone at Windsor so easily. No matter what anyone said, power favored the beautiful, and no amount of trying to make physical flaws acceptable was going to change that. In a perfect world, looks wouldn’t matter, but the flood of internet models and self-promoting websites still proved otherwise.
Nonetheless, through no fault of his own, my husband was six-foot-two of gorgeous masculinity, and that was just a fact. He had dark brown hair and matching brown eyes that gave him a seductive look about him, and if it weren’t for the scar that slashed through his right eyebrow and over his eye to the edge of his nose, you’d think that he was as warm as a cozy fire, though he was the complete opposite. He also wasn’t sporting any grey yet, but we were also only forty-three.
Then, as if that weren’t enough, there was his body and how he made it a point to use our home gym at least three times a week. Twenty-five years later, Ramsey still had a body worth drooling over, and I’d lost track of how many times my tongue had licked every rippling muscle on his sexy frame. Yeah, it got harder to keep in shape as you got older, but since Ramsey hadn’t ever let himself go, it wasn’t that hard to maintain what he’d always had going on.
There was also the big dick energy that followed him around wherever he went, and with good reason. Even having known no one else, I knew enough to know that Ramsey was very blessed in the package department, and he definitely knew how to use it to get whatever he wanted out of me. Nothing felt like Ramsey being inside me, and that was the addiction that made me justify everything that we’d ever been through.
“Would you like a table or booth?” the hostess asked, hugging the menus to her chest.
“What do you want, baby?” Ramsey asked absently, the question always an automatic one whenever we went anywhere.
“A booth,” I answered, not really caring, but I knew that a booth would give Ramsey what he needed right now.
“Of course,” the hostess replied before leading us through the restaurant until we came up on a booth close to the corner.
Trying not to laugh, I sat down, and Ramsey immediately jerked his head to the side, making me slide to the far end of the seat. I watched the hostess’ brows furrow in confusion while Ramsey unbuttoned his suit jacket before sitting down next to me.
When his hand automatically went to my thigh, our hostess asked, “Oh…uhm, were you expecting someone else? I can grab a couple of more menus-”
“That’s not necessary,” Ramsey said, cutting her off. “We’re not expecting company.”
She awkwardly placed the menus in front of us. “Oh, okay…well, if it’s more comfortable-”
Ramsey put his hand up to stop her rambling. “It’s more comfortable for me to sit next to my wife,” he informed her. “If I’m unable to touch her whenever we’re together, things become unpleasant. So, thank you for your escort and the menus, and she’ll take the cobb salad with the house dressing and a sweet tea. I’ll have a roast beef sandwich with no sides and another sweet tea.”
Her blue eyes just blinked at him in confusion before he grabbed the menus off the table to hand them back to her. To her credit, she recovered quickly enough, grabbing the menus as she said, “Uhm, of course. I’ll…I’ll get right on that.”
“You do that,” Ramsey remarked dryly, and it really was hard not to roll my eyes.
“You know, she’s not our waitress,” I pointed out. “She’s just the hostess.”
“Ask me if I care,” he remarked like an asshole as his hand worked my skirt up to rest on my bare skin.
“Look, if you want to be an asshole, then fine,” I said. “However, I expect you to leave her a huge cash tip when we leave.”
Ramsey turned to look at me. “She tried to sit me on the other side of the booth.”
“You say that as if everyone is supposed to be aware of your mental issues, Ramsey,” I retorted. “You probably scared the poor girl to death.”
Just then, the hostess approached our table, and she looked worried as she said. “Uhm…I’m not your waitress.”
Refusing to let Ramsey make things worse, I said, “Yes, my husband realized that after you left, and we do apologize.”
However, because Ramsey was Ramsey, he said, “There’ll be a five-hundred-dollar tip for you and the waitress to share if you can just get our order in. We’re kind of in a hurry.”
I let out a choked laugh when her eyes grew comically large before she scurried away to go share her good fortune with the waitress. Though Ramsey had acted like a complete asshole, the tip was definitely going to go a long way to soothing any ruffled feathers.
I laid my head on his left shoulder before saying, “I love you, Ramsey.”
“Don’t try to sweet talk me,” he grumbled. “I’m still pissed.”
“You’re not even going to try to deny it, huh?” I quipped.
“Since when do I lie to you?” he retorted as his hand moved further up my leg.
“We’re in public, Ramsey,” I remarked unnecessarily.
“No one can see what I’m doing,” he replied easily, like getting arrested for public indecency wasn’t a problem for him.
“I work with children,” I reminded him. “Behave yourself.”
Ramsey let out a deep sigh as he squeezed my thigh. “I’ll let you make it up to me tonight.”
I let out another laugh. “How magnanimous of you.”
“I think so.”
Despite the easygoing banter going back and forth, Ramsey was genuinely pissed, and I knew it. He’d always been unreasonable when it came to me, and that hadn’t changed over the course of our relationship. I could remember kids in school not being able to so much as breathe on me, and Ramsey had married me immediately after we’d graduated high school, further staking his claim. He’d always been that way, and I couldn’t imagine him ever changing, which wasn’t a complaint. I was fortunate enough to know that Ramsey loved me, and that provided a certain level of security that most women would never experience. Ramsey was never going to cheat on me, he was never going to leave me, he was never going to take me for granted, and I knew it.
“I think we could both use a nice, long, hot bubble bath when we get home,” I said, lucky enough to have a tub big enough to accommodate the both of us.
Ramsey turned his head to kiss my hair. “That sounds doable.”
“Do I need to text the kids and let them know not to come over?”
“Yes,” he answered seriously, and it was amazing to me how he couldn’t see how much I loved him, even all these years later.
“I love you, Ramsey.”
His hand began running back and forth over my leg. “I know, Emerson.”
There was more that I wanted to say, but now wasn’t the time. Ramsey was in that dark place inside his head, and neither of us needed to engage in a public fight for nothing. Nothing, because Ramsey had no reason to ever be jealous of another man. In fact, it actually blew my mind that a man so confident, strong, and relentless could have any insecurities. Honestly, no one outside the family would believe it if ever told.
The rest of lunch was spent eating our meals and just being together. When it was time for Ramsey to finally deliver me back to the CPS offices, he’d done it reluctantly, but he’d done his best not to make his issues my problem, to which I’d been grateful.
Walking into my office, I let out a heavy sigh as I took a seat behind my desk, my eyes automatically sliding towards the picture of my entire family, all nineteen of them, and that wasn’t even including the babies.