Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
WARRICK
Idon’t know what she’s thinking, but I try to give her the time and as much space as I can to work through whatever has her tense and tearful.
My instincts are screaming at me to smother and coddle her.
To promise that she doesn’t need to ever think again if it’s going to upset her.
But I can’t do that. I can’t take away her autonomy.
Slowly her muscles start to relax, and I feel my heartbeat slow in response. I love this woman, and even if I freaked her out by telling her that, I needed her to know. I needed her to understand how important she is to me.
When she softly nuzzles her cheek against my chest, I exhale a huff of relief.
Since the moment I walked through the door yesterday morning, I haven’t given her an inch of space because it’s what I needed.
But it might not have been what she needed.
A tiny pang of guilt tugs inside of me, but my amore mio is too scared, too broken, and I couldn’t fight the desire to take care of her.
But I don’t want to fight it. She’s mine, and part of belonging to me is her letting me take care of her in every way she needs, whether she wants me to or not.
Her body is mine now. I’ve licked, touched, and fucked every inch of her, and I won’t apologize for that.
Finding her in my bed set off a catalyst in my head, and all thoughts of giving her time and letting her set the pace went out the window.
As much as I want to keep her naked and in our bed for the next two days, I know that her world has to be bigger than me and this house. If she is pregnant, then she’ll need support and to realize that my friends and family just want to get to know her and aren’t just checking up on her.
By the time she starts to stir, I’ve reasoned that even though I don’t want it, I’m going to have to try and share her with the world a little.
Keeping her on the mountain and away from any means of escaping me felt necessary six days ago, but even if I wish I could lock her down with me forever, I know I won’t be able to stop her from leaving if she wants to. I just have to trust that she won’t.
Waking up, she makes a sexy little kitten mewling noise, unfurling her arms from where they’ve been folded beneath her cheek. “Amore mio,” I coo, stroking my fingers through her hair.
“Hey,” she says sleepily.
Dragging her up my body, I palm the back of her neck and pull her in for a kiss, sliding my tongue into her mouth and tasting a little of myself as I devour her.
“Shall we take a ride into town today? You need new clothes, and I need to grab some things.”
“I don’t need new clothes,” she quickly denies, her cheeks heating pink.
“The moment you meet Cora’s mom and she starts picking things out for you, you’ll change your mind,” I say with a soft laugh.
Shaking her head, she pulls out of my hold and slips off my body and down to the mattress. “Warrick, you know I’m broke. I don’t need anything, and I can’t afford new anything.”
“Amore mio, we’ll check the post office once we’re in town. Your card should be there, so you have money.”
“I’m not spending your money,” she protests.
“It’s our money and I fucking expect you to spend it.
” Pulling her back on top of me again, I palm her neck and slam my lips against her, kissing her until she relaxes and melts into me.
It takes every ounce of my self-control to pull away from her and not to spread her legs and make her ride my dick.
“Jesus, Verity, we need to get dressed, or else we’re not going anywhere. ”
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” she pants, her pupils blown wide, her full pink lips swollen and wet from our kisses.
“I’ll fuck you until you’re a dripping, boneless mess later, but first we need to take a trip into town.”
Watching my woman put on clothes is a lesson in patience and control. By the time I take her hand and lead her out of the front door and into the Jeep, my dick is rock-hard, and I can’t think of a single reason why I’d ever want her to wear anything other than my cum or my shirt ever again.
Opening my Jeep’s passenger door, I help her inside and close it behind her so I don’t change my mind, throw her over my shoulder, and carry her back upstairs.
Neither of us speaks as I drive down the mountain and toward town.
It’s not as busy here as it will be at the peak of the summer season, but there’s still plenty of tourists milling around in their shiny hiking boots and brand-new backpacks.
Instead of taking Verity straight to Cora’s family’s clothes shop, I park my truck outside the post office and lead her inside.
The postal carriers won’t come up to the ranch, so we all have boxes here at the main office.
When I open mine, I have a handful of junk, a couple of bills, and a letter addressed to Verity Sanders.
Seeing her surname and not mine after her name burns like a phantom pain in my gut.
This woman is mine. She’s not a Sanders anymore, she’s a fucking Meyer, and although marrying her didn’t feel crazy important when I woke up, now I feel almost as driven to give her my name as I did to claim every one of her firsts.
“Here,” I say gruffly, handing her the letter and folding the others in half and putting them in my pocket.
“I can’t take this,” she immediately says.
“You haven’t opened it yet.”
Looking up at me with big doe eyes, she slips her finger under the edge of the envelope and runs it across, then slips the letter and the debit card attached to it out. “Warrick,” she says shakily.
Closing the distance between us, I ignore the fact that we’re in the middle of the post office and cup her face, tipping her head back so I can see her fully.
“You’re mine, amore mio, and I love you.
Everything I have is yours, and all of you is mine in return.
I’m going to take care of you, and giving you a fucking bank card so you have access to our money is just the bare minimum,” I tell her, leaning down and pressing my lips to hers.
“Warrick,” she breathes when I pull away.
“This isn’t a negotiation, amore mio. So put the card in your purse and—”
“I don’t have a purse,” she says, heat staining her cheeks.
“Then let’s go and get you one.”
Her steps slow the closer we get to the clothing store. I don’t know if she’s been in before to ask for a job, but when I slow to a stop outside the door, she looks up at me imploringly.
“Warrick…” she starts.
“Amore mio, we’re going to go in here and you’re going to let me spoil you and get you some new clothes and a purse to put that new card in.
Then we’re going to head to Tori’s bakery so that you can meet her and my brother Nero.
We’re going to buy too many sweets, and then we’re going to take them home and we’re going to eat them naked in bed while my cum drips out of your perfect cunt. Okay?”
Her mouth falls open as she stares up at me, her chest heaving.
“I gave you what you needed, didn’t I, amore mio?
I took all those firsts you needed me to take.
Now I need you to do this for me before I give you what you need again.
Okay?” I’m manipulating her, but I don’t feel bad about it.
She needs new clothes, and if I have to coerce her into letting me take care of her, then so be it.
“Warrick,” she gasps, and I have to hold back laughter at her scandalized expression.
“Oh, amore mio, don’t get shy now.” Leaning in, so I’m only an inch from her ear, I whisper, “You weren’t shy when your cunt was gushing while I fucked your tight little ass.”
Taking advantage of her shock, I lead her off the street and into the store, smiling widely when Cora’s mom greets us.
“Warrick, how lovely to see you again,” Mrs. Cunningham says.
“This is my Verity. She needs everything,” I say, smiling happily.
“No,” Verity tries to protest, but it’s too late, because Mrs. Cunningham is already running her eyes assessingly over Verity.
Despite being in her sixties, Cora’s mom is stunning and looks more like she should be strolling through the streets of Paris instead of running a clothing store in small-town Montana.
“Oh my goodness, you’re gorgeous. Let’s go and pick some things to try,” she gushes, hooking her arm through Verity’s and leading her away.
For the next hour, Mrs. Cunningham ushers Verity into more outfits than any woman could want, and she looks fucking edible in every single one of them.
From tight jeans that make her ass look delicious to dresses that make me want to shove the skirt up and fuck her while she’s wearing them, every time she steps out of the changing room in something new, my dick gets harder and harder.
By the time they’re done, there’s a pile of things on the counter, and I want her to have them all. I know she’s going to try to argue, but she won’t win, and we’ll do this all over again in a couple of months once she’s regained all of her curves from eating properly.
“She needs a purse too,” I say loudly enough for both women to hear.
“I don’t,” I hear Verity say.
“Yes, she does,” I call again.
Red-faced, her hair messy, Verity follows Mrs. Cunningham over to where I’m waiting at the counter. “Get your card out, amore mio,” I tease, smiling at her.
“This is too much. I…” She trails off, her eyes going wide at the large pile of clothes.
Pulling her to me, I press a kiss to her forehead then hand over my card and buy everything, ignoring her whispered protests and Mrs. Cunningham’s knowing grin. It doesn’t take her long to fold everything into bags, and she hands me the receipt while Verity stands uncomfortably beside me.
“Come on, amore mio,” I say, lifting the bags in one hand while I lace our fingers together with the other. “Thank you for your help, Mrs. Cunningham.”
“It was lovely to meet you, Verity.”
“You too,” Verity says sweetly. “I don’t need you to buy me clothes,” she says, her eyes glassy, the moment we step out onto the sidewalk.
“Amore mio,” I say on a sigh. “I don’t know how the men in your life have treated you before.”
“What men?” she asks innocently, and I can’t help it. I grin.
“No men?”
“You already know the answer to that. You took…” She trails off, and smug male pride makes my chest swell.
“Okay, well, let me tell you how a man should treat his woman. How I plan to treat you. A man should take care of his woman’s needs.
If you need new clothes or a ride or money, I’ll take care of it.
If you need a hug or an orgasm or to be told you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, I’ll take care of it.
If you need to rest or to recover and recuperate, I’ll take care of it.
If you need cake and a heating pad on your period, then it’s my job to take care of it, because I’m your man, and taking care of you is the absolute bare minimum of what I want to do for you.
I know we haven’t known each other long, and I know that I’m coming on strong, but I love you, Verity, and I take care of the things I love in every single way. ”
A fat tear spills from her eye, making a slow track down her cheek while she stares up at me like she has no idea what to say or do.
“You’re not used to being cared for, amore mio, but you’ll get used to it because this is how it’s going to be for the rest of our lives.
I’m going to give you everything you need.
I’m going to do everything in my power to make you happy, and all you have to do is accept it.
Can you do that for me? Can you let me take care of you the best way I know how? ”
It takes a moment for her to respond, and I hold my breath, wondering what the fuck I’ll do if she says no. But then she nods.
“I can try,” she whispers.
Wiping her tears away with my thumbs, I lean down and kiss her. “Thank you. Now let’s go.”
Tori and Nero insist on us coming upstairs to the apartment above the bakery so that they can meet Verity properly.
She’s quiet, but she doesn’t freak out the way she did when we met James and Buck, so I’m calling it a win.
By the time we leave with a huge box of sweet treats from the counter and some new cakes that Tori was experimenting with, my dick is more than ready to be back inside my woman.
But we have one more stop to make before we can go back home.
Leading Verity back to my Jeep, I load the bags and sweets onto the back seat, then I lean down and kiss her until we’re both breathless. Wrapping my hands around her hips, I lift her into the passenger seat, then fasten her seat belt for her while she watches me with needy eyes.
“I love you,” I tell her.
She doesn’t say it back, and that’s okay, because her expressive eyes say the words she can’t.
Verity might not be ready to admit how she feels just yet, but her body understands who we are to each other.
Climbing into the driver’s seat, I place my hand on her thigh as I put the Jeep into reverse and pull out onto the street.
The town hall is only a few minutes’ drive from the bakery, and Verity eyes me curiously when I park up outside.
“I just need to fill out a couple of forms, it won’t take long,” I tell her, opening her door for her and reclaiming her hand.
“Okay,” she says, not questioning me any further as I lead her into the foyer.
The last time I was here was for Danny and Parker’s wedding, but it’s easy to spot the desk and the clerk standing behind it. Guiding Verity to sit in a seat against the wall, I crouch down and slide my palm over her cheek. “Do you have any photo ID?” I ask her.
Staring at me, her brows pull together in confusion. “No.”
“You don’t have a driver’s license or a passport?”
She shakes her head.
“Okay, I’m going to get the forms for you to get a Real ID card. The MVD has a small satellite office here, and I don’t think we’ll need an appointment.”
She still looks confused, but she doesn’t argue as I get the forms and fill them out for her, asking for the answers to the questions that I try to memorize.
The tiny MVD office is empty apart from an older lady being served by a clerk.
When she leaves, I lead Verity up to the counter and slide the form across the desk.
“We need to get a Real ID card for my girlfriend,” I say, hating calling her my girlfriend the moment I say it.
Nodding, the clerk processes the form, then has Verity pose for a photo, and ten minutes later we leave the office with my woman clutching her new ID.
Leading her back downstairs, I guide her to the chair in the entrance hall again, then approach the desk and say quietly, “Hi, I need the forms to apply for a marriage license.”