Never Been Worse (Evergreen Park, #3)

by Morgan Elizabeth

“You know what I mean, Harper. You’re brave and smart and kind and funny, and whether or not you believe it, you’re spontaneous, too, in your own way.” She opens her mouth to speak, but I shake my head, stopping her. “And even if you weren’t, even if you were the most predictable person, even if you planned your outfits and meals and fucking bathroom breaks a year out, I’d still be wild for you.”

“You’re mine now, and I want to show you off.” “What have the last two months been?” she asks breathily. “It’s been wooing you,” I say matter-of-factly, pressing my lips to hers before standing again and moving to grab a sweatshirt.

“Little wife!” Jules says in a whispered squeal, and Ava smiles at her.

“YAY!” Ava shouts, then claps. “Harper, if you don’t stop fucking around and tie this man down for real, I’m going to riot. He’s getting us ice cream.”

“Don’t stop fighting for her. She’s just a little trigger shy and isn’t sure if she can trust her gut these days.”

She’s hurt. She’s angry. She deserves her petty little revenge and so much more. And I’m going to make sure she gets it.

“You’re my wife, Harper. If someone wrongs my wife, we’re getting even.”

I told Harper no one gets to fuck with her, no one gets to disrespect her anymore, not now that she’s mine, and that definitely includes her fuckwad of an ex.

She’s close to me, smiling wide, and god, she’s beautiful. She’s all mine and whether she wants me to or not, I’m going to protect what’s mine.

“When are you going to realize you deserve the moon, Harper?”

my pretty wife

“What are you doing to me?” he asks, his breath ghosting along my neck. “Not sure, but I think you’re doing it right back,”

“Ride your husband’s fingers.”

“When I get home, I’m going to tease you for hours. Eat this pussy, play with it, never letting you come until I say so.”

“God, my little wife is such a good girl, isn’t she? Waiting for me to let her come,” he croons from behind me.

“No, Harper. He does not get that. He does not get to win like that, not anymore. He doesn’t control you and doesn’t get to hold anything above you.”

“I never came in this bed,” she whispers, and my fingers dig into her side. It’s strange, the mixture of jealousy and arousal I feel. “Are you jealous, Mr. Holden?” “Abso-fucking-lutely, Mrs. Holden,” I growl against her lips.

“Shirt up, hand in your pants,” I demand as I wrap my fist around her hair. “Touch your pussy while I fuck your mouth, get it nice and wet for me.”

My woman. My wife. The most beautiful, sexy woman on this planet.

I’m reminded that I’m with him. He’s mine.

“I remember everything you tell me, Harper, because you’re important to me.”

And in that moment, even if I made a million mistakes and bad decisions, I know I did at least one thing right if it means I get to have this man as mine.

“My impatient little wife.”

“It’s as simple as that, Harper: if you want it, I want to make it happen for you.”

“I want you to come everywhere I go, Harper,” he says with ease. “I want you by my side always.

“I want you to come on tour when we go. And I want to get a pet with you if you want it. I want it all with you.”

“For me, it was. It was always real for me, Harper. You took a little bit of time. I’d like to see you walking down the aisle to me, knowing that it’s going to be me and you forever.” I roll my eyes and move to get away. “I’d also like a shit ton of guests to show you off. A gown you made exactly the way you want. Every detail, the way you dreamed of as a kid.”

“I told you I want to give you the world, Harper. Whatever you want, I want to make sure you have it.”

“I think I’m falling for you,” I whisper. “That’s good,” he whispers, and I try to move to look at him, glare at him even, but his hand on my chest holds me tight. “Because I’ve been there a long time, waiting for you.” “Wes,” I whisper, but he shakes his head. “I'd wait forever, but I’m glad I won’t have to.”

“You live and you learn. Next time, when your incredibly intelligent, beautiful, funny wife tells you someone is a red flag, you’ll listen.”

I’m so fucking proud of her.

“You try and break up with me, Harper, I’m dragging you onto a plane and hiding away with you for days, weeks, months, until you see things my way, until all of this blows over.”

“You’re so handsome when you get all angry and self-righteous.”

I let a small smile tip on my lips, knowing I’d do anything for this woman. “Fill me in and give me my marching orders.”

Musical memory for future reference: My Heart Will Go On - Celine Dion This is what I’m listening to on repeat. You're so dramatic. You're crazy about me. That I am. 16 days. An eternity.

Love you. Thank you.

I miss you.” He sighs, the sounds filling the line before he replies. “I miss you more, little wife.”

“Do you know how hard it is to keep that in every day?” His hands go to my jaw as he looks into my eyes. “Do you know how hard it is not to tell you how much I love you every fucking moment of every single day?” My eyes water as he stares at me. “I told you I’d wait forever, but I’m glad I don’t have to.”

“You’re the mastermind, Harper. I’m just helping your vision come to life.”

“Tonight is about you. Harper Abbott, an unbelievably talented fashion designer, not Harper Holden, wife of Wes Holden. Tonight, I want everyone to ask you about your dress, about your line, about your plans. Not about our honeymoon or our alleged separation or our marriage or whatever the press is going to be dying to know. I don’t want to take your shine away by being there.”

“Harper, no. No. I want you by my side at every moment. Fuck, if I could, I’d have you on stage with me while we played, I want you so close every day. Just this once. Just this one time, your premiere, your first time stepping out as you, I want it to be just you. Every other time, I’m velcro to your side.” He presses his lips to mine again. “Okay?”

I am strong, I am talented, and I have a killer fucking support system.

Love you. You deserve this moment.

This is for all the women who want revenge, not for those who have done them wrong, but for themselves. To reclaim what was taken from them in whatever way they feel they need to.

This time, we’ve made sure our intel is spot on, and we’ve narrowed down our revenge. Oh, and we brought a seven-year-old. Because you have to teach them young, you know.

For a split second, I kind of regret encouraging this because I feel like it’s only going to breed a very strong, very specific sense of justice in the girl. Then I shrug because, not my kid, not my problem.