Chapter 25 #2
I pivot to sit beside him, cross-legged, covering myself with the silky sheet. “I’ve been single for too long, and I kind of put the idea of children to the side. I never planned on a serious relationship, and my financial situation didn’t leave any room for being a single parent.”
He reaches for my hand, but then changes his mind. “But you would no longer be a single parent. Or in financial need.”
He’s looking at me with intent. Like he dares me to tell him what he wants to hear, even though I’m not sure what that is.
If you want children, we’re fucking having children.
His words earlier—so raw, so demanding, but also so fucking irresponsible. If I want children?
“I don’t know, Xander. I hadn’t thought about it when you asked me to marry you, obviously.” I twist the sheet in my lap. “And we obviously didn’t talk about it.”
“We’re having the conversation now, Cora.”
“Are we though? It feels like you’re just trying to coerce me into saying what I want. I’m not sure what I want.” I twist the sheets more, and then I look at him. “I don’t want you to have children with another woman. There, I said it. I’m jealous of your next wife.”
Annoyed with the whole situation, I throw the sheets away and start climbing out of the bed. I don’t even make it to the edge before Xander applies his superhuman, sex-god powers and has me on my back.
Covered with his sinewy body, I glare at him. He holds my hands above my head, staring at me, that playful, self-assured smirk making his face even more beautiful.
“There will not be a next wife. You’re my wife. And for the record, I always wanted one or two children, and that’s a perfect number for an older woman like you.” He winks.
“Asshole.” I kick his shin and struggle to free myself.
But my effort is pointless against his strength, so I default to glaring only.
My glower is my last defense, even though at this point my heart has melted at his declaration.
“You’re perfect for me, Coraline Winslow-Stone.
A month ago, I thought children and starting my own family were a distant destination I would have to accept at one point.
You changed that. Not because the clock is ticking, or because Nana wants great-grandchildren.
Because you and I, we’re good together. Even if you were eighteen—which I’m very grateful you are not—I would want to have babies with you now. ”
“We’ve been together for a few weeks.”
“You always find an objection, don’t you?” He kisses me gently.
“It’s only been a few weeks, though,” I say weakly, not really listening to that argument myself.
“Life-changing weeks.”
Oh, my poor heart. Yes.
Life-changing.
Destiny-altering.
Permanent-joy-inducing.
We grin at each other before our lips clash. Xander lets go of my wrists, and I wrap my arms and legs around him.
His hands are everywhere at once. It’s too much and not enough. It’s just the perfect amount of affection.
Lust.
Connection.
Just the perfect amount. Because I’m with the perfect man.
“Shall we make a baby, Coraline?”
“You want to start right now?” I giggle. Not because the idea is absurd, but because it’s thrilling.
“We kind of started in the pool.” His lips leave a wet trail down my torso. He dips his fingers into my pussy, and I gasp. “Besides, you feel pretty ready for me.”
My pussy might be ready, but me? Am I ready?
And for the first time in my life, my mind doesn’t offer an objection.
“Fuck, Cora,” Xander utters.
“What’s wrong?” I whip around, the skirt of my gown rippling around my legs.
Fuck, Cora? Fuck, Xander.
My gorgeous husband is leaning in the doorway of his walk-in closet in a tuxedo. I’ve seen him in a tux before, and yet the sight remains mesmerizing. The man wears a tux like a second skin. A quiet kind of smoldering power. Like this is yet another skill he’s mastered.
Though tonight, I also feel unapologetically radiant.
When Saar offered to get me a rental gown in this neck of the woods, I jumped at the opportunity. Her years gracing the catwalk honed her into a true connoisseur of fashion, so I let her pick for me.
And pick she did.
The gown is a deep, burnished chocolate, with a subtle sheen that catches the light with every movement. It fits beautifully against my skin—soft, sculpting, confident. The bodice hugs me in all the right places, the sweetheart neckline framing my collarbones and the soft slope of my shoulders.
“You look… I don’t think we can go.” Xander pushes off the wooden frame and strides toward me, gripping the back of my neck and devouring my mouth.
“What are you doing?” I admonish, breathless. “I just applied my lipstick. Why can’t we go?”
He twirls me around, his chest to my back as we both look in the mirror.
“Look at yourself.” The hunger in his eyes pulls at the corners of my lips, making me stand taller.
He lowers his lips to my neck, the off-shoulder strap slipping lower. I mean, those straps are barely clinging, more suggestion than restraint. Like it was made to slip.
Xander groans, his lips hot on my skin.
I didn’t accept Lottie’s offer to use her stylist and decided on a natural look. And I’m glad I did, based on Xander’s reaction.
“I think I will steal the show,” I say confidently. Hmm, I guess he did instill some of his self-assurance in me. Xander and this dress.
“You definitely will steal the show, and I see a long jail time in my near future after I kill all the men who see you like this.” He wraps his arms around my waist, his gaze running up and down my body in the mirror’s reflection.
“Behave yourself, Mr. Stone.” I turn around and kiss him. “Everyone can admire all they want. You, dear husband, are the one bringing me home.”
“You’re beautiful,” he rasps.
When he says it, I not only feel it, I believe it. “Damn right I am. But let me get ready.”
“Okay, I’ll jerk off watching you, so I don’t have to walk with a tent in my pants all night.”
I roll my eyes, but the evidence of him liking me in this dress is clear.
I pick the earrings Saar sent me to wear with the gown. “What did you want to tell me last night?” I guide the delicate hook through my ear. “I kind of stole the conversation. I’m sorry.”
Still standing behind me, Xander’s expression darkens. He looks away briefly and fists his hands.
I frown, picking up my necklace. “Xander?”
He takes the jewelry from my hands, his breath close as he leans in, his eyes firmly on me, no longer devouring, but… I don’t know, certainly worrying me.
The cool metal skims my collarbone before it settles into place. His fingertips graze my skin as he fastens the clasp, slow and unhurried, like he’s savoring the privilege. Or stalling.
My heart hammers in my rib cage as the minutes tick loudly in my temple.
“I know we have a fake marriage certificate…” His voice is hoarse.
I freeze. “The certificate is genuine, though.”
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
The beat of my heart must be heard back in New York.
“The feelings are genuine, too. I love you, Cora.”
I turn and kiss him.
He holds me in his arms, just looking at me like he wants to freeze the moment to never forget it. I know I want to emboss it in my memory.
“I love you, too.”
“I love you, Coraline Winslow-Stone,” he repeats.
“You do, don’t you?” I tease, because I want his self-assured smirk back. It hasn’t returned with his declaration, which kind of taints the moment.
I fell in love with the carefree, playful Xander. This serious one is new, and I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not.
He kisses me again.
“I kind of want to take off the dress and stay here.”
Something passes across his face. “Cora—”
“Lex,” Lottie calls from behind the door, knocking urgently.
“Not now,” he growls.
The door swings open. “Are you two decent?” She doesn’t step in.
We pull apart, but Xander holds my hand in his.
“What the fuck do you want?” he snaps.
I jerk my head to him, because his reaction is exaggerated, but also so unlike him. What did Lottie interrupt?
“Sorry, guys, but Nana Sybil wants to talk to you right now, and you know how she is.” Lottie steps in, shrugging.
Xander looks at me, his face full of anguish, then at Lottie. He lets go of my hand, sighing.
“Fuck.” He bows his head for a moment, before he looks at me with urgency. “We’ll talk later.”
He storms out.
“What’s up his ass?” Lottie makes a face.
“I wish I knew.”
“I’ll see you downstairs. The cars are ready.” She rushes out again.
Xander loves me. He loves me. He wants to have children with me, and he loves me.
I just wish the joy wasn’t tainted by his weird behavior just now. Is it just a case of not being used to such declarations?
Why did he say it if it doesn’t come easily to him?
We’ll talk later. About what?
Shaking my head, I give myself one last check in the mirror and remember how confident I felt just a few moments ago. And with a smile, I leave our room to go downstairs.
Re-enacting Titanic, I walk down the imperial staircase as Xander looks on, the latent smirk back on his face.
“Wow. A true showstopper.” His voice is cold and detached.
The way he’s looking at me is weird as well. It’s like the tender moment earlier hasn’t happened. Like he’s back to his predator ways.
Only it’s not even back to that familiar distant memory of Xander when I first met him. It’s colder, more aloof. Less him, for sure.
What happened?
What changed?
Did his declaration scare him? I wasn’t demanding his love. Hoping for it, perhaps, but he said the words first.
By the time I reach the last step, I’m positively annoyed.
He prowls toward me, fisting his hands and I fight the urge to step back. He is so close now, but it’s like my body doesn’t recognize him.
It’s Xander, but it’s not.
“Stay away from her, asshole.” The voice that is Xander’s booms.