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“Like Sons of Anarchy?” “That fucking show,” he grumbled.
The desire to kiss her sent me reeling backward, scrambling off the couch for the kitchen. I grabbed another cookie from the plate and shoved the entire thing in my mouth.
“Off to work?” Every morning it was the same question. I turned. “Yep.” Draven had been here to see me off each day this week.
“They’re constellations.”
“Why constellations?”
“For someone I used to know who loved the stars.”
“Want to find out? We could read Harry Potter together. Or any other book.” How could I say no to those pleading eyes? “Yeah, okay.”
Why count on people when they’d only disappoint? Or leave? Or die?
“I don’t want you to know about me, because I don’t think you’ll like me much when you do. I want you to like me.”
I pressed a hand to her forehead. “You’re hot.” She gave me a little smile. “Is that why you were checking me out this morning?”
“I’m glad we’re friends.” “Me too. Now sleep.” “You’re my best friend.”
“I haven’t had a best friend since fifth grade. Her name was Mandi. We had brass heart necklaces. You know, where one person has half a heart and the other has the other half.” “Yeah. Now go to sleep.” “Who’s your best friend?” she chattered on. “You,” I admitted.
I dreamed of a woman with dark brown hair and a gorgeous smile she didn’t use often enough. I dreamed of her whispering in the dark that she needed me. I dreamed of my wife.
And last night, I’d stopped pretending I wasn’t in love with my husband.
“I meant, I don’t want you to go. To leave.” “Oh.” She gave me a small smile as she put the car in park. “Good. I wasn’t going to anyway.” I grinned. My stubborn wife.
My shoulders tensed and I twisted to look behind me. I’d spent three years in prison learning what it felt like to be watched. Someone was staring at me, but who?
Someone had come after Genevieve. My wife.
“Proud of you, girl.” Draven’s whisper hit my ear at the same time the tears fell down my cheeks. “So damn proud.” I smashed my face harder into his chest. “Thanks, Dad.” His arms squeezed tight at the name. “Goddamn, I wish things were different.”
“It’s Draven.”
This hurt so much
Isaiah was my dream.
I wanted it. I wanted that future more than I’d wanted anything in my life. I wanted to deserve this woman in this bed. I wanted to be a man who smiled because mine seemed to illuminate hers.
“Oh, please.” Genevieve rolled her eyes. “You look in the same mirror I do every morning. You know you’re the hot one in this pair.” “You think I’m hot?” She slid her sunglasses into her hair, her expression turning serious. “Isaiah, you’re the sexiest, most handsome man I’ve seen in my life. And your heart? When you let me in, you literally steal my breath away.”
“I don’t deserve you, V, but I can’t give you up.” If she wanted to go, I wouldn’t stand in her way. But if she left, I’d never be the same again. Genevieve’s eyes flooded. “I don’t want to give you up either.” A smile spread across my face—it only made her cry harder. “So you’ll stay my wife?” She sniffled, swiping at the tears on her cheeks. Then she leaned over, stretching to brush a kiss to my lips. “Yes.”
“If that’s what it’ll take for us to have a life together, I’m good with Canada.” “We could change our names and live way up north. We’d be like pioneers, living off the grid.” His thumb stroked my cheek. “As long as your last name matches mine, I’m good with that too.”
