CHAPTER NINETEEN
P aisley is about to kneel and undo my jeans when a loud buzz yanks me from the dream. I groan as the illusion fades, leaving me hanging. My hips shift in search of friction and bump into lush curves. A muffled grunt complains about my movement but tapers off into a breathy snore almost immediately.
Clarity sweeps at the fog in my brain. As I come to, I recognize the weight sprawled on top of me. Paisley is still out like a light and using me as a pillow. My mouth curves into a satisfied smirk.
That expression flips into a frown when the buzzing begins again. I’m reluctant to move but the commotion won’t quit. My hand blindly searches for the source on the nightstand. I silence the incessant rattling and enjoy a moment of peace. Just as I’m about to chuck the device over the railing, another attempt to reach me vibrates my palm.
“Fucking cock blocker,” I grumble while slipping out from under Paisley .
The instant I stand up, I’m smacked with the consequences of my choices. A sharp throb pounds behind my eyes, scolding me for that third bottle of Dom. Worth it seeing as my wife kept me warm all night.
She doesn’t so much as twitch while I stomp from the room like a poked bear. I’d been really damn clear about no disruptions. Someone forgot the memo.
Once I’m out of earshot, I swipe to accept the call and put him on speaker. “This better be urgent, Colt.”
“Guess again.”
I pause on the stairs. “Bianca.”
My sister huffs. “What took you so long?”
“Give me a break. It’s”—I squint at the screen—“ten in the morning?”
“Does that surprise you?”
Like a pheasant jumping out of the bushes, not that I’ll admit it. Fuck, I slept deeper than a well. My groggy mind struggles to focus while I amble into the kitchen. Except this doesn’t feel like the lingering effects of a drunken stupor. I lift my gaze to where the woman responsible lies. It’s too damn much, which is just what I need.
“Hello?” Bianca’s shrill voice stabs at my aching head.
“Coffee,” I mutter and shuffle to the counter.
“Did I wake you up?”
My body is on autopilot as I go through the motions to get caffeine injected into my system. There are too many buttons on the machine. “Rough morning.”
“It’s about to get worse,” my sister warns.
“Mhmm, great.” I’m barely listening while trying to get this machine to brew. This model is too complicated.
“Care to explain why you’re out of town with Paisley? ”
The cinch wrapped around my skull squeezes when the complicated contraption remains silent. “Work trip.”
“Just the two of you?”
“Consider it a reward retreat for the best employee.” It’s impressive that I can come up with this shit in my current state.
Her laugh lacks humor. “You’re a worse liar than Dad.”
“Uh, thanks?” The beans finally start to grind and I give myself a round of applause.
Frustration spews from Bianca and I’m betting she wants to throttle me. “What did you do while I was gone? I want the truth.”
“Made money. Fixed random shit on the farm. Herded cattle. Kept the horses alive.”
“And?”
“Tolerated your new hire,” I add just to be a pain in her ass.
“Rumor has it, you’ve done a lot more than that,” she mutters. “Why isn’t Paisley answering her phone?”
A chuckle almost slips free to betray me. “Have to ask her.”
“Put her on then.” Bianca’s tone is a cheese grater against my last nerve.
“She’s still asleep.” I’m ready to beg this machine to go faster.
“At this hour?”
“Guess she’s tired.”
“And why might that be?”
My knuckles bleed white as I grip onto granite, trying to borrow its strength. “Dunno.”
It sounds like Bianca pounds on a hard surface. Maybe Colton’s loyalty to me. I’d pay to see that fight. My sister’s labored breathing suggests she’s losing the battle against his iron will.
“What’s up with you lately, Brody?”
“Didn’t we already go over this?” By some miracle, the second mug is almost full. So. Close.
She huffs before inhaling deeply. “You’ve been really cagey whenever I mention Paisley. Why won’t you let me talk to her? Are you hiding something? If you are, I’m going to find out.”
And that’s my cue. “What was that? The service is spotty.”
“Oh, don’t you dare hang—”
I stab at the screen before she can finish her threat. Before her persistence can call me back, I shut off my phone and toss it in a drawer. It’s been the better half of a decade since I’ve had a real vacation. I’d say it’s long overdue. This also allows me to delay the inevitable for another day or two.
Paisley is beginning to stir when I return to the lofted den. I stand back and watch as she escapes the clutches of sleep. She stretches in an exaggerated arch across the sheets. An ear-splitting yawn raises the roof to notify the other wild animals in the area. When she’s done howling, her tongue smacks the roof of her mouth. I bet it’s drier than a July pasture in there.
“Water,” she croaks.
“That’ll require a second trip.” I lift my full hands.
Her baby blues are bleary while she tries to focus on me. Blonde tangles frame her face, which has me thinking about a roll in the hay. I’d have her far more disheveled if that were the case .
Paisley struggles to prop herself on an elbow and manages to sit semi-upright. A sloppy palm scrubs at the drool crusted to her cheek. My wife is mussed and messy and never looked sexier. Damn, I’m a simp for this bundle of sunshine.
“Look good in my shirt, Twinkles.” The fact she’s wearing something of mine is icing on the cake.
She squints down at the white tee covering her upper half. “Aw, shit.”
“Hungover?”
Her nod is jerky while she massages her forehead. “I think we overdid it on the celebrating.”
“Maybe this will help.” My bare feet pad across the carpet and I sit on the edge of the bed.
Paisley sniffs. “Coffee?”
I pass her a steaming mug. “Don’t know how you take it, but figured you like it creamy and sweet.”
She lunges forward as if I’m holding the cure to her illness. “I could kiss you!”
“All it takes is a cup of Joe? Wish I’d known sooner.”
“Hush,” she mumbles and inhales the rich aroma. Her lashes flutter shut while she sips. “Ohhh, this hits the spot.”
Warmth spreads through me as if I’m the one savoring every drop. I’m captivated by my wife drinking the coffee I made for her. My gaze is latched onto her upturned mouth, waiting for another sound of approval. It’s startling to realize that I want to see her happy.
As Paisley drinks and a moan parts her lips, satisfaction like I’ve never felt thrums through me. It’s worth suffering through the process of making another cup. What’s wrong with me? She’s not doing anything out of the ordinary. But the pleasure she gets from such a mundane act is irresistible. I want more.
Which is when she whispers, “Thank you. I needed that.”
Our eyes meet in a swift collision. The impact is an electric shock to my heart, but I manage to stay still. It’s a familiar game we’ve played before. Static sparks between us, crackling with tension. There’s a question in her gaze and I wonder if she’ll find the answer in mine. The anticipation mounts into a demand the longer we’re caught in this trance.
Paisley is the first to break, her stare dipping to my bare chest. Her interest explores lower and screeches to a halt on the distinct outline of my dick. That’s what she gets for turning the simple act of drinking coffee into an erotic spectacle. The reminder strokes me to half-mast and a blush paints her cheeks a rosy hue.
I can’t help but taunt her after the damage she’s done to my composure. “Like what you see, wife?”
“Umm…”
“Still think I have a teeny weenie?” I thrust to make it extra clear I’m packing more than a cocktail wiener.
“Uhh…” Paisley’s gulp is audible.
“Need a closer look?”
“You’re wearing gray sweatpants,” she blurts.
“And?”
“Nothing else.” If she stares any longer, my cock will pitch a tent for her to stay indefinitely.
“Is that a problem?”
Her gaze skitters away like a frightened virgin. “Only for our boundaries. ”
“Obliterated quite a few last night.” Along with my guard against her.
She freezes, her mind probably working overtime. “We didn’t do anything.”
My chuckle is gritty and I finally take a sip of my own coffee. “Depends on your definition.”
Her wide eyes take stock of our proximity. “I blame the sleeping arrangements for this.”
“Could’ve taken the couch.”
“Didn’t seem like an option at the time,” she admits on a breathy exhale.
I preen like a proud peacock when she brazenly ogles me again. “You remember?”
“This”—she motions between us—“was just a cuddle party after too much champagne.”
“And a bedtime story.”
Her entire face ignites into flames. “That part slipped my mind.”
“That’s some sexy shit you brought home.”
“The shop owner warned me about that,” she mumbles.
“But you picked it anyway.”
“To be fair, she told me after I’d already committed to the title.” Paisley swats at the rising temperature in the room. “It was the first thing I grabbed.”
My eyes narrow on her evasive maneuvers. “I think my wife likes her romance spicy and extraterrestrial.”
“Or maybe I just like it when someone reads to me.” She swaps her mug for the paperback on the nightstand. “Can’t believe you broke the spine.”
“You wanted it rough. ”
“I said gruff ,” she corrects. “As in your voice. You didn’t need to manhandle my book.”
“Hard to hear over your demands.”
“At least you fulfilled most of them.” She pets the cover. “We’ll call this a honeymoon hazard. It’s easy to get carried away in the moment.”
After setting my coffee aside, I sprawl out beside her on the mattress. “Should I read the next chapter?”
Paisley stiffens. “That’s not a good idea.”
My lips twitch. I’m becoming fond of just talking to her. “Why not?”
“Look where last night got me.” She gestures at her outfit like I haven’t been constantly staring at her. “I can only imagine what will happen to my resolve during the light of day.”
“We should find out.”
“No way, mister. You’re too handsy.” Her nail taps a deep crease on the book’s spine.
“I’ll be more careful.”
“Sounds a lot like your promise to be gentle.” She taps my nose, giggling when I attempt to bite her finger. “See? You can’t be trusted.”
And she doesn’t know the worst of it. My gut clenches into stone, reminding me of what stalks beneath the surface. The shit with Bianca will hit the fan soon enough. I can’t keep them apart much longer. That will require major damage control, and I’m not sure our shaky truce will survive. But why should I care? This is what I wanted.
Paisley gasps as if hearing my betrayal. “My phone!”
Relief I shouldn’t feel sags my shoulders. “Ah, yes. It took an unfortunate swim in the hot tub. ”
Which I had nothing to do with. Paisley saved me the trouble of expanding my deceit by dunking her device underwater. It was very convenient, almost like I planned that too.
“I can’t believe it’s ruined,” she whines.
“No sweat, wife. Your new one is already on the way. It’ll arrive at our house on Friday.”
Confusion pinches her drowsy features. “What?”
“Ordered it before I fell asleep.”
“Oh.” She smiles, but it’s weak. “Thanks. I’ll pay you back.”
“You better be joking.”
Her chin tips to a defiant angle. “I’m not.”
“Listen, Twinkles. My money is yours. Spend it freely.”
“That’s not possible.”
I tuck some unruly hair behind her ear. “You’ll get used to it.”
Her breathing goes shallow. “I could say that for a lot of things, but what’s yours isn’t mine.”
I lean in, trailing my nose along her neck with a deep inhale. “You smell like mine.” My fingers tug the hem of her borrowed shirt. “Look like mine too.”
“In name only.” But she doesn’t pull away.
Contentment pulses under my skin. I could get used to this. “Until I convince you otherwise.”
She hums while inspecting my half-lidded stare. “Is Boozy Brody still here?”
My palm drifts along her side. “I don’t mind having you around whether I’m buzzed or not.”
“Careful or I’ll think you like me. ”
I trail my fingers to her hip, fisting white cotton instead of her bare flesh. “And if I do?”
Her laugh is a lie. “Don’t get attached, husband. This isn’t real.”
“Maybe it should be,” slips from me without warning.
Paisley peers deep into my eyes, peeling away layers to reach what I keep hidden. Our breaths mingle while seconds stretch the silence. I let her search until she grows tired of trying to find any semblance of good. After what feels like hours, she squints and a grin stretches her lips.
“I see you,” she whispers.
“Kinda hard not to when I’m right here.”
She shakes her head. “The real you.”
This time, I’m the one to avert my gaze. “Doubt it.”
She shoves my shoulder and hops out of bed. “I’m just messing with you. Don’t be so serious.”
My pulse drums to the beat of her skipping down the stairs. “Where are you going?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she croons.
I sit upright, about to give chase. “Yes.”
Her laughter taunts my concern that she’s leaving me again. “I’m going to make us breakfast. Feel free to join me when you’re ready, old man.”
My heart jolts at her playful tone. “Old man?”
“Do you prefer ancient?”
Oh, she’s going to get it for that ridiculous endearment. I spring to my feet like a young stud just to prove a point. My heavy stride pounds on the steps as I prowl after my wife. I skid to a stop when she comes into view.
Paisley is swaying to her own tempo in front of the stove. I never thought that watching a woman cook would turn me on. But she isn’t any woman. It’s becoming arousingly obvious that I have a crush on my wife, especially while she’s wearing my shirt and frying bacon.
I genuinely like her, which is a problem if she insists on ending our marriage as soon as possible. Last night shifted our dynamic. She can deny it but I’m not alone in this. That means I’m going to enjoy her company while she allows it.
Paisley must sense my attention and glances at me over her shoulder. “Like what you see, husband?”
“Very much so.” Now I just have to convince her to stay.