Chapter Twenty-One
Darcy
“Yellow is your color.” I trail my eyes up my wife, from her strappy black heels to the classy dress that’s draped so perfectly around her body that I’m jealous of a piece of fabric. The killer? She’s wearing her hair down, and it’s a little untamed. Just like her.
She smirks. “Some guy calling himself mine left it on the floor in front of my door for me to trip over. The least I could do was show him what he’s missing by taking me out to dine with his business partners once again.
He could,” she sweeps her hands down her body and spins, “have all this to himself tonight.”
I bite my lip to keep from laughing. Her clues have not been subtle, and she doesn’t know I’ve been planning this date for a week after she sat me down and blatantly said she wanted some time for just the two of us.
I did have a business dinner on my schedule tonight, but I emailed the team and rescheduled for tomorrow.
Tonight, I wine and dine my wife.
Or, uh, sako and hibachi my wife. Because Japanese food is the way to her heart, and that’s where I’d like to set up permanent residence.
Placing my hands on her waist, I tug her close and whisper, “And what will we do when I get you all to myself, wife?”
Hayden, to my surprise, pats my rear. “Don’t tempt me, Killjoy. I wouldn’t allow you to murder the mood like you usually do if you were taking me out alone.”
I swallow, the realization that she is legally my wife and I am legally her husband sinking into my system like a rock in water.
Of course, I’ve had these moments before, but it doesn’t change the intensity when it hits me again.
I could take her back to my room, shut the door, peel this fabric right off her skin, and—
No. Not until we agree to make things real. Not until I’m ready to open up to her about my ghosts. I don't want her to run away screaming; it might break me.
I kiss her cheek. “We should get going. Don’t want to be late.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re parked in front of Ginger the food, the conversation (once I found my words after he dropped the news I was staying in his sister’s former room), and the environment were all ten out of ten.
We finished up, I threw my napkin on top of my plate, and complained about a food baby.
I thought that was the end of the night, but Darcy said we needed to walk off the food, which is why we are currently strolling down his private beach under the twinkling summer stars.
The romanticism of the night is settling in, and as silence between us stretches on while the light waves lap against the shore, I’m left wondering how this is real life.
I’ve always been the woman who has held her own.
I know my worth, and I inherently do not believe any human is superior to another.
But Darcy Marshall feels out of my league.
And the more I remember I’m not only married in name to him but am actively dating him with real-feelings building within me, the more anxiety nips at my heels and claws at my throat.
He doesn’t know my full story. He doesn’t know that I watched a girl die and did nothing to save her. He doesn’t know all of the almosts that have happened in my life. He doesn’t know all of the things missing from my life.
“What’s going on in that brilliant brain of yours?” Darcy’s voice breaks through the night.
Should I tell him? Is now a good time? I trust him, so I should, right?
I settle on small steps.
“I don’t know when my birthday is.”
His tone is infected with confusion. “It’s January 18th, right?”
“I celebrate on January 18th, but if I’m being honest, I’m not sure when my birthday is.
My parents only left a note saying my name was Hayden Bennett when they left me in the basket on the steps of the group home.
My birthday could be in December, or it could be earlier in January.
” I squirm a little, uncomfortable with this wee bit of information I’m granting him.
When he realizes he married a woman who had to pick her own birthday, will he bolt?
“I chose January 18th to celebrate. It just seemed as good a date as any.”
Surprisingly, he’s quick to respond. “A winter birthday doesn’t fit you. You are warm like summer. Should we celebrate this month instead?”
I stop in my tracks, struck by his statement.
He meets my gaze, eyes widening as if asking what he did wrong.
The innocence and sincerity painting his face throw me over the edge in laughter.
“I appreciate the compliment, but I’ve spent twenty-nine years celebrating on January 18th, so I think I’ll keep it.
” What is he thinking to suggest I change my birthday based on the season he associates me with?
“What’s so funny?”
“You want to change my birthday,” I choke out between laughs.
Darcy wraps his arms around me, dropping my shoes.
As he draws me close to him, the sound of my laughter fades into the sea.
He kisses me once on the forehead, and I realize I’ll never tire of the warmth of his lips against my skin.
“Well, at least your birth brings warm comfort to the longest winter.”
I light up. I shine like the sun rays he believes I emit.
Terror rises as I fully understand one thing: I’m in love with my for-convenience husband.
I place my hands on either side of his face, standing on my tiptoes and dragging his lips down to mine, confessing all the things I don’t have the nerve or boldness to say because I’ve never had something I so desperately wanted to keep.
For once since my childhood, I’m filled with fear.
But I let him press his lips to mine anyway.
“We should probably head home,” I state between breathless kisses. “We have to get up early to head to Mississippi.”
He groans, throwing his head back and running a hand through his tousled hair. He looks angelic under this moonlight. “I’m not ready for our night alone to end.”
A thrill shoots through me. There’s so much we can do…
But I need to get over my fear first. And I have to talk to him about my past.
“We can cuddle and watch a show together when we get back if you want.” I hope he says yes because, if he’s going to stay married to me for the long-haul, he will have to watch my favorite show with me at least once.
He eyes me warily. “What are we watching?”
“My favorite show.”