Chapter 4 #2
“God has a way of showing you things. It’s up to you to make sense of them.
That could have been me. It probably would have been had I stayed, which is why I never told him about you.
I refused to tell my parents either for fear that they would find him and try to hold him accountable.
Kincaid is right to keep that monster away from you. ”
“That’s why you wouldn’t tell me about him when I asked. You protected me from him then and you’re protecting me from him now.”
She laughed, this time with light in her eyes. “Your husband is protecting you. Well, actually, he’s protecting both of us.”
“That’s kinda his thing,” I grinned, and she nodded.
“I’m aware. He’s the kind that loves hard. Don’t judge him too harshly. He only knows one way, and that’s his way. It’s what he trusts.”
I frowned a little and she smiled wider. “You give him a lot of shit.”
That time, I was the one who laughed. “Maybe.”
“You do, but he lets you because you hold more power over him than you know.”
“You must know secrets that I don’t,” I mumbled. She smiled brightly, lifting her mug.
“I know what you know.”
Deep down inside, I understood. In ways that I had yet to master, I did control my husband. It was just that my control was overshadowed by his because Kincaid had a handle on maneuvering in his world. I was still trying to figure it out.
“So, since you’re here . . .” I lifted my bagel, allowing my teeth to sink into it. The cream cheese melted against my tongue. “. . . You can help me plan this fancy dinner. Kincaid seems to think it will keep me occupied enough to keep me out of harm’s way.”
The smile started with her eyes before her lips curved. “Or maybe he simply wants you to have the type of introduction to society that you deserve as his wife.” She shrugged, and I rolled my eyes.
“You heard that?”
“I did, but I would be honored to help. However, I’m not sure how much I can.” She paused and waved her hand the same as I had done earlier. “This is new to me too.”
“Then I guess we have a lot to figure out.” She nodded softly, her expression matching mine. We didn’t have to exchange the words for them to pass between us.
This has been a long time coming!
I spent the day with my mother. We did a little surfing and got ideas for the dinner reception, but mostly enjoyed each other’s presence.
We both asked questions, attempting to move closer to each other.
She would occasionally show the remorse she felt from not being in my life, and when that happened, I reassured my mother that she should have no regrets.
Being around her now, getting to know the woman she was, I understood the motivation behind her decisions a little more.
She did indeed want me. My mother had loved me from the day she learned of my existence, but a child raising a child wasn’t ideal.
Especially not one who suffered from the demons my mother struggled with.
I experienced the pain and resentment from not having family, but I was also able to forgive.
I made that clear when I hugged her tightly and released the words several hours ago before she retreated to her room. I’m not angry or resentful.
She stayed with me while I prepared dinner for Kincaid, then mentioned she was tired.
I knew my mother was only attempting to give us privacy after the call she overheard between Kincaid and me.
I mentioned I would have dinner ready when he got home.
He promised it wouldn’t be past eight and that he had been looking forward to spending time alone with me.
Once she was in her room, I showered and changed.
I raked through my closet, attempting to find something appealing, but ended up settling on one of his gray T-shirts.
They were my favorite things, and I realized they were his too, primarily because of the easy access when I wore nothing beneath them.
But also because I mentioned that it made me feel like he was wrapped around me even in his absence.
By 7:45, he was walking through the door.
His handlers left after a brief conversation with Kincaid.
They had been there all day but were experts on staying out of the way.
So much so that I forgot they had been there until one came in to request water.
I offered them lunch, which they refused—just water.
After a quick shower, Kincaid joined me in the kitchen. He was dressed in a crisp white tee and navy shorts trimmed in white and hanging loosely around his waist but still fitting in a way that didn’t look oversized or sloppy. Always put together. That was his thing.
“Did you make dinner or are you dinner?” Kincaid pressed behind me, his hands moving beneath his shirt, up the sides of my thighs, resting at my hips.
“Possibly both.”
A low, throaty growl slipped through his lips before they made contact with my neck. “Don’t tempt me.”
I smiled, allowing my neck to fall to the opposite side, giving him more access.
He didn’t waste the opportunity because his lips were all over me.
Soft kisses abounded, causing my skin to tingle like he was delivering electronic pulses.
That’s what it felt like, or maybe I was just hypersensitive to this man.
“You’re going to have all my clothes smelling like you.” His nose glided down the curve of my neck before he pinched my skin with his teeth.
“Do you want me to stop wearing your things?”
“No, I like it.”
“I know.” I grinned, turning to face Kincaid. After sliding my arms around his waist, I pushed against him.
“Truce.”
He chuckled and nodded. “Truce, even though we’re not at war.”
“Maybe we were a little bit.”
“You possibly, but not me. Either way, I’m used to your rejection.”
I pouted, inching closer. “I don’t reject you.”
“That’s what it feels like when you leave me out here alone.”
I eased my arms from around his waist and slipped my hands beneath his shirt, allowing them to graze his warm skin, moving up his chest.
“I apologize, and I will work on doing better, but I offer a truce for now—no more talk about my father. I will follow your lead. I just can’t help but wonder about the possibilities.
The curiosity has been there all my life and will take time to get over, but I trust the family I know I can count on enough not to worry about those I can’t. ”
He stared at me in the way he always did when he was reading my mood, like he had to measure my words against what he could physically see and feel.
“Family?”
My cheeks hiked and my lashes fluttered. “Mm-hmm.”
“Which is?”
“Well, first of all, you.” I lifted onto my toes and brushed my lips across his. “And then there’s your mother and mine.”
I actually kissed him that time. “And then there’s the extended family like Alisha and Darius.”
I kissed him again. “Oh, and Cast. Definitely can’t forget him.”
He grunted, muttering, “Careful.”
I laughed just before one of his hands fisted the side of my shirt and the other tangled through my hair with a tight grip as his tongue met mine. He explored my mouth while I leaned into him a little more.
I felt him growing hard against my stomach before he pulled back, his eyes darting around the kitchen. “Where’s your mother?”
“Tired, which is code for ‘I’m giving you two some alone time.’” I smiled, and he laughed under his breath.
“I don’t want her to feel like a stranger in our home.”
“Oh, trust me, she doesn’t. She’s at peace.”
He frowned a little, and I pecked his lips. “She’s comfortable here. Shall we eat?”
I attempted to step away, but he held me firmly, his hand on my hip. “I missed you today.”
“Good.”
Kincaid smiled, kissing my temple before he let me go so I could fix our plates.
We ate, enjoying a light conversation. He told me about his day.
It was a busy one, but I expected nothing less.
The man always had a thing or ten on his agenda.
Today was no different. I learned that the paperwork for the renovation to begin on the Margaux properties had been finalized.
We would be taking a trip to Paris at some point to tour the original one.
It was the first established, and while Kincaid wanted to completely gut and renovate the properties, I convinced him that they should maintain some of the original authenticity and charm that played a hand in its success.
He countered that he purchased Chateau Margaux after the company took a dive, losing its appeal, but I reminded him that this was hundreds of years in the making.
He agreed and decided I would have the final say in what stayed and what would be revised.
I discreetly attempted to hand him the task, but he refused. I had somehow become a partner and not just an owner by way of marriage. It was exciting and terrifying simultaneously, but like always, Kincaid convinced me that I had to be the force he knew I could be.
After dinner, we ended up in the bedroom.
I sat Indian style on top of his solid frame, my ass seated just below his waist, while my legs crossed at the ankles, resting on his abs.
I was comfortable, staring down at his carved chest since he’d shed his shirt before we settled in.
His arms were folded behind his head. I hadn’t experienced this Kincaid since Tulum.
He was relaxed and seemed at peace, and my God, he smelled so damn good.
I wanted to talk and not get swept into the abyss of his looks and charm . . . Hell, just him.
“What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”
“Hmm,” I hummed, realizing that I had been in my head.
He smiled. It was charming and salacious. “I see you thinking. I feel it too.”
“Is this the life you want?”
“With you, yes.” He gave a sexy smile.
“It better be,” I threatened with a squinted stare. “But I mean with everything, not just me.”
“I don’t know if I understand the question.”
“When I was talking to your mother yesterday, I realized you didn’t have much say in what was expected of you.
You were born into all this with set expectations as to who and what you would become.
That makes me wonder if you’re happy. Like truly happy, or if you’re only playing a part in a script created for you versus by you. ”
His teeth raked across his bottom lip. Sexy. I was aroused but attempted to remain focused.
“I guess you could say both. I never really put much thought into it. I’ve always known my role in The Family, even as a young child.
I was groomed to think, behave, and perform in a way that would pattern me for the man I am now.
There are days when I feel the weight of my life and wonder what it would feel like only to have to worry about simple shit that most men debate but likely take for granted. ”
“Like?” I arched my brow, and he offered that charming smile again.
“Like how to kick game to a beautiful, sexy woman such as yourself.” I blushed.
“Versus?”
“Deciding if the head of a Haitian, Dominican, or Cuban cartel deserves to go home to his family after he’s tried to skip past the rules that were agreed upon and bonded by their Family ties.”
His eyes were serious, dark, and hard as stone.
They remained fastened to mine while he waited for my reaction.
I wouldn’t fold. He expected me to, but I knew who my husband was regardless of whether I had proof.
I didn’t have the fine details of what kept him from enjoying restful sleep at night.
Those weighted decisions had his face tense and the muscles around his eyes tight even as he slept, but I knew who he was.
I could feel it so deep in me that it was like the marrow that filled my bones.
And I accepted all of him. Even the darkness he suppressed when he held me against his chest at night, trying to find a reason to believe he wasn’t a monster.
“You’re good. Even if only to me. That still counts.”
“Does it?”
I deserved that. I’d called him a killer.
“It does if I say so, and my vote is the only vote that matters. I’m your wife.”
A smile surfaced. It was subtle and easy to miss, but I studied him the way he studied me. “It’s a lot easier to recognize that you’re mine when you’re not stubborn and fighting me on everything.”
I laughed, throwing back my head before I lowered my eyes, offering a soft gaze.
“You make me crazy, making me feel like I’m losing control.
When I lose control, I fight because it’s all I know to do.
It’s my way of remembering who I am.” I shrugged with one shoulder.
“It’s not really about you. It’s about me holding onto the little pieces I still have. ”
His eyes moved, taking in my features like he was trying to understand my thoughts. My words only scratched the surface. I could sense he felt what was beneath them.
His control was about molding me into someone good enough to be in his life, by his side, in his bed.
“I’m not trying to change you. My only goal is to help you realize your potential, but .
. .” He paused, sitting up, using his arms to lift us both, moving his back against the stack of pillows positioned behind him.
“If that doesn’t happen, and this person before me is who you choose to be, then it’s enough.
You’re enough. What you see as control I see as love. ”
I blinked several times, but my eyes refused to focus.
I felt him shifting both of us and we ended up sinking into the mattress.
His arms were around me, his face buried in my hair while my back met his chest. Kincaid inhaled, releasing his breath slowly before I felt his chin rest atop the crown of my head.
“This is my favorite thing.”
“What’s that, sweetheart?” His voice was slow and lazy, like he was already in the space between deep thought and the lull of falling into the unconsciousness of sleep.
“When you’re here with me like this, just us. It feels like nothing else matters.”
“Because it doesn’t.”
“You’re enough.” My voice was low and timid. I wasn’t sure why, other than that I felt raw and vulnerable. That’s the effect he had on me.
“Hmmm?” The vibration of his deep tenor rumbled through me. I cleared my throat and spoke more confidently.
“You said I was enough. I just need to be sure you understand you’re enough for me too.”
His body tensed, but only for a second or two. The act was followed by his arms tightening around me. He shifted a little, adjusting me so I was closer.
There already existed no space between us, but he moved me closer to make sure.
“Good. As long as you always remember that, I’ll die a happy man.” His face sank deeper into my hair, then I felt his breathing even to a slow, steady pace. Sleep took him that fast. I smiled, closing my eyes, knowing I wouldn’t be far behind.