Chapter 21
twenty-one
“My wife.” A tiny whisper leaves her parted lips.
She’s stolen my air straight from my lungs. Just being this close to such a gorgeous creature has my pulse pounding everywhere. Everywhere.
When the ushers opened the doors at the back of the cathedral, I thought a piece of me died as she floated down the aisle. The part of me that looked out for myself…it goes quiet. There’s only one focus left now.
Us.
“Yeah?” I manage to ask, cutting into my steak. The food is good. Everything here is good. Too good. The president’s reception feels like something I wandered into by accident.
They’ve put us up in a fancy hotel in downtown Northview for the night, too.
“You said, ‘my wife.’” She chokes on a gulp of wine, and I blink back a worried stare.
If she’s drunk, we can’t do what we need to do tonight.
Her hand shakes as she pours another glass, and I place mine over hers. Not as a warning, but just to soothe her. She looks at me like she’s deciding whether to bite. I help by pouring a splash into her cup and a little into my own.
“Because that’s what you are now. Is the word offensive to you?”
“I-I’m just not used to hearing it. It’s weird.”
I inhale a steely deep breath. When her eyes are on me, I can’t concentrate. The blue is too deep. It’s as if she sees every flaw I have and is about to make fun of it in some way. If I didn’t feel like I was enough before, sitting beside her as her husband certainly makes me feel inept.
Before she can pick up her glass again, I grab her knees and swivel her to the side, so her legs are perched between mine.
“I know this is weird. And that you’re scared.
” It’s unsettling to look at her. Especially as she gazes at me with a mixture of something like contempt and fear.
“You don’t know me that well yet. But I’ll tell you right now, Scout, I’ll take care of you.
I’ll work hard at this marriage. I will.
I don’t do things on whims or make spontaneous decisions.
The tests said we’re a good match, and I believe them. ”
She shakes her head, dropping her gaze to her lap. I tilt her chin up.
“They didn’t give me a list.” I continue. “They didn’t ask who I wanted. They just told me who I’d protect.”
Her eyes crystallize in front of me. “I’m not scared.
I’m terrified. And I don’t need you to take care of me.
I can do that myself. I’m known for it. I also don’t make decisions on whims. I don’t even remember taking some personality profile for them to use against me.
” Narrowing her gaze, she whispers harshly, “And they put a fucking tracker on my wrist.”
I glance at the silver band flashing her heart rate. It’s going faster and higher. “I don’t think it’s tracking your movements. Just your health.”
“If you believe that, then you’re naive and not someone who can take care of me.”
She faces the room with reddened cheeks and forks a bite of salad as if she’s stabbing someone in the back.
I study everyone filling the president’s hall. My parents and brothers and sisters-in-law. Nephews, nieces. The university staff and my friends. Deltas. They look happy. In a jovial mood. Even her Omega sisters seem entertained.
But not her parents.
Her oldest brother keeps throwing me daggers as if he’s already slit my throat a thousand times in his head. Fortunately, her youngest brother looks calm. Maybe freakishly so, but it’s better than the rage igniting Landon Turner’s eyes.
“We’re mainly on campus anyway, so I don’t think it quite matters if they were tracking your location—”
Her chest rises rapidly as she slowly turns to confront me. “Are you serious?”
I nod. “The president wants us to—”
“At this point, I don’t care what the president wants.”
I’m not that used to girls. I have a lot of brothers. My only sister is quiet. Mom’s not loud, either. So when Scout’s voice comes out as sharp as a knife? I decide to keep my mouth shut.
Instead, I put an arm around the back of her chair. I hover to let her know, whatever she wants to say or feel, it’s okay. I’m here. And not touching her.
But we do need to obey the order.
Silence stretches between us as the servers lay pieces of cake in front of us.
There’s no festive music or speeches. No dancing.
Nothing to declare this as a normal wedding.
Other than the president standing with a microphone in the middle of the room to remind everyone that we’re the flagship couple of this new era.
I can’t help the pride that surges through me when she looks at me and says it.
Scout’s dad hugs her tight as we reach the limo. I briefly wonder if he’s just going to take her back. As she wraps her arms around him, his eyes never leave my face.
He’s terrifying even without saying a word.
Landon, Bo, and George Turner shuffle Scout into the car and then surround me.
“I don’t think it needs to be said—” Lan starts, but his dad cuts him off.
“Treat her right. Or you won’t last the night,” he says.
I give him a solid nod. “Understood, sir.”
As I slip onto the leather seat with a squeak, I glance at my bride. She couldn’t be further away from me. Staring out the window without any hint that she’s about to make this easy.
It kills me that I want to comfort her and can’t. That’s not the way a marriage should start. I’m the last person she probably wants to hear from. So, I sit there like a dolt, not knowing what to say or do.
It’s a silent ride downtown. My knee bounces the entire way. I can’t even enjoy my first limo ride.
She never looks at me.
“Holy shit!” I blurt out as we approach the tall building filled with lights and a fancy carpet rolled out underneath the awning where the car pulls up.
She whips her head toward me, her jaw unhinged. “What?”
“This place is fancy! Wow.” I’m pressed against the window, trying to see up higher. It looks like there’s a restaurant on the top floor.
“This place? Okay…”
“I’ve never been in a limo before. Never been here before.”
She shrugs as I help her from the car, and she actually takes my hand. The driver hands our overnight bags to the bellhops. “I’ve attended a few conferences in the ballrooms. Some weddings, too.”
“I wonder if we need to check in.” I refuse to let go of her hand, even when she not so casually tries to lower it.
“Mr. and Mrs. Griffin?” A woman in a suit emerges from a door behind the front desk.
I take a peek behind me before realizing she’s talking to me. “Oh, that’s—that’s us.”
She smiles as if she knows why I was confused. “That will take some getting used to, huh? Right this way, newlyweds! I’ll show you to the penthouse suite!”
The penthouse. It hits me then as the doors are opened. Gold and marble and white and some fancy smell like jasmine and lavender.
Obeying the order was the exact right thing. I’ve moved up in society. And have a feeling the more I do for them, the more they’ll do for me.
Maybe even pitch in to buy Karina for me.
“Damn. This view… You can see Fraternity Row from here. Fuck! I think you can see my parents’ house.”
Scout arches an eyebrow and shrugs. “It’s a fine view.”
She’s not into this, and I feel responsible. The weight of her disapproval sits inside my chest. I’m trying to keep my excitement contained, but I’m doing a shitty job.
So I lean into it more than I normally would. If she won’t relax, maybe I can help her. Show her how exciting this can be. We just got married. Got an amazing place for our first night together. Things are looking up. Maybe my joy will be contagious.
I hold up a chilled bottle of champagne and a tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries. She likes chocolate. “This is insane, right?”
“Not… No. Not really. Pretty standard affair.” She peeks into the bedroom and murmurs, “Plus, they have cheap mints on the pillows.”
“Mints on the pillows!” Waving my hand around the room, I showcase how lucky we are. I gallop over to see them, popping both into my mouth. “So good.”
She studies me like I’m a problem she hasn’t solved yet. “You’re easy to please.”
“Mints!” I gasp, repeating myself to make sure she heard me. “I never thought I’d stay somewhere like this before. And there’s, like, fifty pillows on this bed. They could fit a lot more, I suppose.”
Whirling around, she snaps, “Why did you do that?”
“Do what? Put mints on the pillows? I think nice hotels—”
But her face gives away that she’s holding a whole other conversation I’m not privy to. “Kneel with me at the ceremony. Put on a show for the press?”
My jaw tightens as my voice drops low. “It wasn’t a show for me. I told you. I want to be a good husband to you.”
“Huh.” She scoffs like she doesn’t believe me, and I reach for her, but she just gives me a sideways glance that has me stopping near the doorframe to the bedroom. Her shoulders relax, though. So I wonder if she’s debating if I’m for real.
Scratching the back of my neck, I try to think of a way to slice through the tense atmosphere. I loosen my tie and toss it onto the dresser as she kicks off her shoes.
“So…” I gesture toward the bed. “We doing this now, or—” It’s a test. A half-joke. A way to push her buttons.
She smirks in response. Not a complete shut-down. “I told you, it’s not happening.”
I chuckle. “Tonight, or ever?”
My skin tingles as she purses her plump lips and scans my frame from toes…all the way up to my face, as if she’s trying to see how good I’ll make it for her. “I don’t know yet.”
I clear my throat and unbutton my shirt. She watches my fingers.
“Well, my dear, you can use this body for your pleasure. As you need it.”
“I don’t get off from sex.”
My eyebrows shoot up with surprise. “I’m sorry?”
She crosses her arms and her breasts lift in her white dress. “It takes something more than penetration. It’s not something that works for me.”
“Bet.”
With a snort, she rolls her eyes, then throws her hands in the air and heads for the living room. “Of course! You’re the man who’s different, right? You can rock my world and take me to new heights with your pierced cock.”