Chapter 14 #3
But along the way, I couldn’t stop myself from looking at the table of Stallions. When I did, I saw it as Pistol leaned back in his seat and scanned the room searching for me.
I knew this was his intention, because when our eyes met, he stopped his hunt.
And it kept happening.
For the next forty minutes, every time I glanced his way, if he wasn’t already looking at me, it was like he could feel my gaze and he’d look away from his brothers in order to find me.
It didn’t make sense. Not entirely. But it felt like that first day, when we spent hours silently flirting across the room until he had enough.
But rather than coming over to me to put an end to it at the bottom of the hour, when the group finished their meal, he left without so much as a wave goodbye.
I looked on through the window while the men mounted their bikes—Pistol climbing into his truck—and slid into the booth I was meant to be clearing, needing a moment.
I didn’t get it.
I didn’t get him.
Then again—didn’t that make sense?
We’d known each other for less than a week.
And not just any week, but the craziest week of my life.
What felt crazier was how much I didn’t want it to be for show.
The way it felt to be under his arm as he confronted my brother reminded me of the man who made me come more times than I could remember in one night. The man I couldn’t get off my mind for the next two days, desperate for more but firm in my stance not to hope for such a thing.
Only, now everything was different.
Whether I liked it or not, more was what I got.
At least, sort of.
We’d been married for four days, and he hadn’t even tried to make a move.
Quite the opposite, actually.
Not that I was the least bit inviting.
Not that he’d given me reason to be.
With a groan, I pressed my forehead to the cool table in front of me and sealed my eyes closed tight.
Fact of the matter was, the Stallion who rode me until dawn, just the way I liked, was the same man who left the morning after without a word.
He also went and stuck his dick in a club whore’s mouth hours after he put a ring on my finger which was, undoubtedly, a douche move.
But he’d yet to kick me out of his bed. Not that first night or any night since.
And he bought me breakfast almost every morning.
And he was hot—stupid hot, even with two black eyes.
And he called me angel.
Fuck me.
Why did I want that to be real?
I couldn’t see into the future. I had no idea how long our marriage would last. Months? Years? What was the statute of limitations on murder? How long before the dead King was nothing more than a memory? And when that time came, would it be the end of us?
Us.
We weren’t an us.
Man and wife, sure—but not us.
The more I thought about it, the harder it was to deny, a part of me said yes to marrying him because he wasn’t a complete stranger.
Maybe in all the traditional ways he was.
I didn’t know his government name until after I agreed.
I still didn’t know where he was born or his favorite food; but I knew what he tasted like, what he smelled like, and the sounds he made when on the cusp of an orgasm.
I knew he was capable of showering me with countless hours of his undivided attention, and the prospect of more of that was part of my yes.
Sure, my freedom played into it, but self-preservation was only part of the story.
That certainly wasn’t what propelled me between him and my brother.
I told Carmy I wasn’t an idiot, but as I sat with my head against the table, I admitted that was a lie. It had to be. It was the only thing that explained what I wanted.
This was my life now, and I didn’t want my life to be pretend.
What I wanted was for my husband to want me.
‘You’ve got a chance to live the life we always dreamed of. It’s right there in front of you. All you’ve got to do is take it.’
I heard Charity’s voice in my mind, and the truth resounded loudly.
“Okay. Not exactly how I hoped to find you.”
I popped my head up and saw Max as she slid into the booth on the opposite side of the table.
“Hey.”
It was all I could think to say.
“Hey. I would ask how you’re doing, but I think I get the idea.”
We stared at one another.
Max obviously waiting for me to say something to put her at ease regarding my mental state.
Me still trying to free myself from the endless loop of my short-term memory.
‘Hey, angel. You good?’
“What are you doing tonight?” I blurted.
Remembering she just started her shift, I shook my head and stammered, “I mean, shit—you’re working.”
She raised her eyebrows, wordlessly expressing her intrigue, before she said, “Won’t be here all night. And if you need me, I’ll figure something out. What’s up?”
Without giving myself a chance to second guess my decision, I asked, “Don’t go out of your way but, maybe later you could meet me at the clubhouse?”
She smiled, the act lighting up those hazel eyes, and I couldn’t help but to return the expression.
My mind was made up.
For better or for worse—I was going to seduce my husband.