Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
“About what happened in there…” Linc began when he and Britt stepped outside of the Triple B. The fact it was a country bar was unmistakable. Trucks outnumbered passenger cars by a ratio of three to one.
“What a jerk, right? Does he think we’re swingers or something?”
“Apparently, but that’s not what I meant.”
“How’s your hand?” she asked.
Was she intentionally deflecting? He wasn’t sure.
“It’s good.” He was still shocked he’d lost it so badly.
True, Valentine had been an asshole, but to haul off and punch him?
That was a first. He was the diplomatic, avoid-physical-conflict poster boy.
There were always better ways to get your point across or settle an argument.
But when the guy had told Britt he wanted to have sex with her and have Linc watch?
He’d snapped. Seen red. No one disrespected his girl and got away with it.
She’s not your girl.
Not yet.
She’s just my wife.
Britt studied him like he was a new species of dinosaur on display in a museum. “I can’t believe you hit him.”
“I’d do it again.” Not a doubt in his mind. “He deserved it.” Stopping when they reached the passenger side of his car, he rubbed the back of his neck. “About earlier…”
“My car’s right over there,” she interrupted, pointing toward the white convertible on the other side of the parking lot.
Yup, definitely deflecting.
“I’m honestly fine to drive.”
“I’m driving.” He tightened his grip on her purse, which was still slung over his shoulder, holding it hostage. Laurel had given Britt the purse for her birthday last year. It was bright yellow and made to look like a stick of butter, complete with the tablespoon measuring “tick marks” on the side.
“You look ridiculous holding that,” Britt told him.
“I think it brings out my eyes,” he deadpanned.
“Of course, you do.”
Enough stalling. Talk to her.
“Look, I’m sorry about earlier.”
“I signed the divorce papers,” she forced out in a rush.
Whoa. What?
“What did you say?”
“We’ve been planning to file,” she reminded him quickly. “Neither one of us meant to get married.”
“Britt, what did you do?”
“In fact, you never want to get married,” she pointed out, completely ignoring his question. “You’ve said that a million times.”
She had him there. Britt knew his views on marriage as well as Emery did.
“You’re right. I have.”
But I never expected you.
She looked down at their feet. “And then you married me.” Pushing a rock to the side with the toe of her shoe, she softly added, “I’m what you never wanted to do.”
There’s nothing I’d like to “do” more than you.
She started to chew on her thumbnail, caught herself, then dropped her hand down to her side. “So, I filled them out.”
“And signed them?”
Her teeth sank into her plump lower lip, like she was hesitating. A moment later, she dropped her gaze and nodded once.
Fuck.
He stood dumbstruck. Yes, they’d talked about filing for divorce, but she’d actually signed the papers?
“All you have to do is sign and we can file,” she said quietly, refusing to meet his eyes.
It felt like he’d been stabbed. Like a blade had pierced his heart sending it into AFib as he slowly bled out, but he didn’t have time to unpack what she’d just confessed. Something more important needed to be cleared up, and it couldn’t wait.
“You’re wrong.”
She looked up at his sharp tone. “What do you mean, I’m wrong?”
Tracing the line of her hair from her forehead to her jaw with his fingers, he threw caution and his better judgment to the wind and confessed, “The only thing I never wanted to do when it comes to you, Zan, was to not do this.” Lifting her chin, he feathered his lips across hers.
“Linc...”
“Swear to God,” he vowed before claiming her mouth more firmly.
For a second, he thought he’d made a huge mistake. Then she whimpered in surrender and opened for him when he licked at the seam of her lips. He thrust his tongue deep into the sweetness of her mouth, ruining himself with the taste of her. Why the hell had he waited so long to do this?
Britt moaned against his lips, and whatever restraint he’d been holding onto snapped. He moved a hand to the back of her neck, holding her in place, so he could deepen the kiss.
Damn, she tastes good.
“I pulled back in there,” he explained gruffly against her lips, “because I wanted to do this.” He kissed her again.
“Not because we’re married, or because I hated hearing you call me your husband.
” He captured her gaze, fully aware that what she’d see in his would give him away. “I pulled back because I didn’t.”