“His paws are massive,” Nathan noted as we walked down the path from the woods behind Reaper Village. Persephone had a late evening, and when Nathan had seen me taking off on our evening walk, he was quick to jump in. I was happy for the company, but since we’d just gotten home this afternoon from a three-day trip, I really fucking missed my wife.
“Yeah, he’s going to be a big guy,” I agreed as Cerberus ran out ahead of us in a tangle of legs and tail. He reached the end of the leash and then ran back to us again before repeating it all over again.
“How old is he now?”
“Almost eight weeks.” We’d had him for two weeks now, and life had changed drastically.
“So pretty much a baby,” Nathan laughed.
“You have no fucking idea. He whines all night unless Persephone lets him into bed with us, pees wherever he wants to, chews on whatever stick he can find lying around, to include the hockey ones, and just when you’re about to kill him—he curls up and naps on you.” And I loved every fucking minute of his idiocy.
“Yep. Exactly like a baby. Without the stick chewing, or so I’m told.” We crested a small hill, and our subdivision came into view. “Not that I’m ever going to find out at this rate.”
Fuck. I sucked at relationship shit. Even my own marriage was fake. When the fuck had he decided that I was the emotionally stable one?
“Uh…you guys okay?” Hey, I was trying.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said quickly. Way too quickly. “It’s just seeing all the wedding prep you and Persephone are going through. That’s all. I’m not sure Harper will ever actually want to take that step, or if she’s happy being permanently engaged. Maybe I’m a little jealous.” His speech slowed at the end as if he was just coming to the realization.
“I get that.” I had half a mind to tell him not to be jealous. That he might have a gun-shy fiancée, but at least his relationship was real. Mine would end when Persephone’s mom was no longer with us, which was so fucked up to think about that I tried not to.
“You guys look happy, though, which is way more than I thought possible when you two stumbled out of that hotel suite in Vegas.” He tilted his head and gave me an appraising look. “Love looks good on you, man.”
I almost tripped over my own feet. Sure, I adored my wife. Worshipped her. Enjoyed her company and missed her when we weren’t together, but love? Fuck that nonsense. Love was for healthy hearts capable of giving their all. Was I infatuated with my wife? Hell yes. Did I love her?
It wasn’t possible.
“Persephone mentioned that Nixon was having some PR troubles up there in North Carolina?” I changed the subject as quickly as possible.
“Yeah, it’s all over the fucking tabloids,” he seethed.
“Neither of us read the tabloids. We’re more general fiction or fantasy readers.” Every night we curled up in bed and read together. Was it possibly geriatric? Sure, but we enjoyed it, so who the fuck cared.
Noble and I took the path that ran between Sterling and Briggs’ yards and came out on the sidewalk. I shortened Cerberus’s leash so he didn’t run out into traffic. The dog was a hundred percent enthusiasm and zero percent common sense.
“Well, I’m the last person to gossip about my twin, but let’s just say that what happened in Vegas didn’t exactly stay there.”
“Really.” My eyebrows shot up as I thought back to Nixon’s little brunette charity auction date, Liberty. Guy could do worse, if that was who Noble was hinting at. “Guess that happened a lot on our trip.”
Noble snorted. “Right. Except you and Persephone already knew each other, wanted each other—don’t even fucking deny it—and you guys woke up married. Nix…” He sighed. “He’s a hot fucking mess with a shit ton of trust issues, and waking up married would have been easy compared to what…” He shook his head.
What the hell had happened after we left? Nixon had stayed an extra day with his date, but everything had seemed easy between the two that morning. Then again, I’d had my head so far up the what-the-fuck-did-we-do-last-night mindfuck that I wouldn’t have noticed if Liberty had been breathing fire across the table.
“So drama. Got it. Tell your brother I think he’s a solid guy, and I hope it works out.”
“We’ll see. Guy can’t seem to get the fuck over himself some days. I mean, just because you had some bad shit happen in your past, it doesn’t mean that has to be your future, right?”
I wasn’t touching that comment with a ten-foot pole, and I didn’t have to, because we’d reached my house. “You good?”
“Yeah. I’m good. Thanks for letting me vent.” He gave me the nod and then took off across the street toward his house.
“Women are trouble,” I said to Cerberus, who promptly jumped up my leg. “Hey, no. We can’t do that. Four on the floor, bud.” I set him down like the dog-training video suggested and gave him the I’m-the-alpha-pack-leader stare that was supposed to magic him into submission or some shit.
He whined at me, and I rolled my eyes as we headed into the house.
Elton John sang about a yellow brick road from the kitchen, and my smile was instant. Persephone was home. I unclipped Cerberus’s leash and urged him on. “Go find her.”
He took off like a shot, skidding on the hardwood and nearly missing the turn into the kitchen. I cringed, but he made it. Barely.
“Hi, Cerberus! Did you have a good walk with Daddy? Mommy missed you all day!”
God, I loved the sound of her voice filling the house, the feeling I got just knowing she was here. I felt…complete, at peace, even.
I turned the corner into the kitchen and saw Persephone on her knees, holding Cerberus on her lap as he tried to lick her face to death. His tail wagged at a mile a minute. Hell, if I had a tail, it would wag every time I saw my wife.
Wife. Sure, we were married now, but in eleven days, we’d be saying I do all over again in front of our friends and family, and this time we’d remember it.
“How was work?” I asked, setting the leash on the counter.
“Hey, stranger.” She smiled at me, and I swore the entire room lit up. She put Cerberus on the floor, and then rose. “You looked good against Denver. That second period goal in game three was hot.”
“You watched me?” I pulled her into my arms and felt the off-kilter pieces of me click back into place. We never talked about hockey when we called during road trips, and lately, Cerberus—and whatever he’d recently destroyed—had been the hot topic. It definitely warmed my chest to think she watched when I wasn’t home.
“Of course.” She wound her arms around my neck. “Now kiss me. I’ve missed you.”
I lowered my mouth to hers and kissed her deep. Fuck, she tasted like the little lemon candies she kept on her desk at home. Her sheath dress was too form-fitted for her to wrap her legs around my waist, so I put one forearm under her ass and lifted straight up against me. Her feet dangled as she threw herself into the kiss.
My hand tunneled into her French twist, and I pulled the long, singular pin I’d often seen her secure the hairstyle with. Her hair tumbled free, cascading down my arm, and I groaned at the feel of it, her hair, her tongue, her mouth, her skin—all of it.
“I missed you, too,” I finally said against her mouth when I found the willpower to stop kissing her.
Her thumbs stroked over my cheeks. “You’re away next weekend, too?”
I nodded. “We can see if the hotel is dog-friendly, and you and Cerberus could come,” I offered. Being away from her was pure shit. I was always distracted, wondering what she was doing, if she was okay, or just plain missing her.
She smiled, then kissed me softly. “That sounds like a plan.” Cerberus whined, and we both looked down at him. “Jealous little thing.”
I set her down reluctantly and then got to the business that had become our ordinary life. She fed the puppy, and I started dinner for us while she got changed from work.
I’d just finished searing the steaks when she came back into the kitchen in a pair of tiny shorts and an off-the-shoulder sweatshirt. I loved her dresses, her suits, and her lingerie, but fuck, there was something about seeing her this casual—knowing I was the only one who did, that got me turned on faster than anything.
“What can I do to help?” she asked, just like she did every night.
“Want to set the table?” I suggested, just like I did every night.
Persephone might have been an amazing cookie-baker, but the woman was not a cook. Growing up with a team of chefs had left the woman clueless in most areas of the kitchen, but it didn’t bother me. I liked cooking for her. There was something primal about feeding my wife that gave me an irrational sense of satisfaction.
“You got it.” She smacked my ass as she walked by, and I grinned as I finished everything up.
After dinner, we tag-teamed the cleanup, which took a little longer with Cerberus underfoot. The guy always wanted to be in the middle of the action.
“You seem pretty relaxed,” I remarked as she put the leftover steak into the fridge.
“Compared to?” she asked.
“Compared to most brides eleven days before their wedding.” I leaned back against the counter. “Lillian was a fucking train-wreck at this point, yelling at vendors, sobbing when the bridesmaids’ dresses came in all wrong. You name it, she was stressed.”
Persephone shut the fridge and then came over to me. “Well, we have an excellent wedding planner who’s doing all the screaming for me. Besides, we’re already married, so I guess that takes a lot of the stress out, too.” She shrugged, then hopped up on the counter across from me. “Plus, if that marriage only lasted six months, then she married the wrong man. Maybe it’s supposed to feel like this when it’s right.”
I swallowed. More and more, she used words like right and love, like we weren’t some accident that had happened in Vegas. Like we were going to be something when our timeline ran out, and the only thing that held us together was a piece of paper.
Cerberus yapped, indignant that he wasn’t in Persephone’s lap.
“You really are a big baby,” she crooned at him.
I picked him up and held him in the crook of my arm. “Stop driving her crazy.” Then I gave him rubs until he settled against my chest, sticking his very wet nose in my neck.
“You still like him?” she asked.
“I love him. He is exactly what I’ve always wanted, even if he is pretty much like having a baby. Nathan and I were joking about that earlier.”
She grinned. “Scheduled, coddled, needy, yep. He’s a baby.”
“Do you want kids?” The question was out before I could examine why I’d even asked it. “Sorry if that’s too personal. I’ve never had a relationship or been married, so feel free not to answer it.”
Her smile faded slightly, but a hopeful light shined in those blue eyes. “Yeah, I want kids. A lot of kids. Growing up with Anne was a constant competition. Even if our parents didn’t make it that way, we did, because who better to compare yourself to than your sister who’s only eighteen months older than you are?” She shrugged. “I always thought that if I’d had another sibling, we wouldn’t have gone at each other like it was a race. What about you?”
“I guess I never really thought about it.” I shrugged. “Growing up was more about survival than succeeding, and Lillian and I did our best to get each other out alive. There’s not a lot of competition in that.”
“Right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make my childhood seem worse when I know—”
“Stop,” I interrupted her. “What we find miserable in our childhoods is all relative. I’m incredibly thankful that you didn’t go through what I did, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t have hard spots, too.”
She gave me a wry smile. “Maybe the competition thing was less of a two-kid issue, and more of a growing up with Andromeda issue.”
“I would agree with that.”
“So you never pictured your life? Or what you wanted for a family?” She tilted her head, watching me carefully.
“No,” I answered honestly. “I worked toward a singular goal—making the NHL. I knew if I did that, I could make enough money so Lillian and I, and now Owen, of course, wouldn’t ever have to worry about where we’d sleep or what we had to eat. I didn’t have the imagination or time to dream about anything else.”
She swallowed, and I felt it again, that divide in our upbringing and priorities.
“Honestly,” I continued just so she wouldn’t feel awkward again, “I never thought much about a family until I woke up married to a certain blonde.”
“And now?” Her lips tilted slightly at the corners.
I set Cerberus down, and he toddled off, no doubt looking for a cozy spot to take his post-dinner nap. “Now, I’m not sure what to think. I know that I love coming home to you. I love the feeling of having a home and not just a house.” I walked forward and gently pushed her knees apart so I could step between them. “You’ve made me realize that maybe my life is missing something.”
“Like puppies and kids?” she joked, winding her arms around my neck.
The vision of a dark-haired girl with Persephone’s eyes and a blond boy with reckless nature filled my head, and a feeling filled my whole being that nearly brought me to my knees. Yearning. It was yearning. I gripped her hips and pulled her flush against me.
“Yeah, I could go for a few kids.” But only in the world where she was their mother. Only in the world where I came home every day and found them here, safe and loved, and happy. Only in the world where we were married because we couldn’t stand to live without each other, not because we’d signed a piece of paper while accidentally drugged and were making the best of it to keep her mom happy. I wanted a world that didn’t exist, and that hurt like hell.
“Well, that’s good, since we already have one,” she teased.
I laughed, then kissed her gently. Fuck, I’d only been gone a few days, but my body roared for hers as if it had been years. “I know I already said this, but I missed you so damned much.”
“What? No eager puck bunnies to fulfill your obsessive need for new positions?” she teased, but there was a question in her eyes.
Of course, she knew my reputation. She’d been a Reaper almost as long as I had, and since we’d gotten Cerberus, she hadn’t been traveling with me as often.
I cupped the back of her head and looked into her eyes so she could see the truth in mine. “No puck bunnies. Even if we didn’t have rule number six, I wouldn’t touch another woman. I’d never hurt you like that.”
She swallowed. “I know you wouldn’t. But when that girl from Detroit was looking at you like her next meal, I realized how…different I am from the girls you usually go for.”
“Used to go for,” I clarified, rubbing her hip gently. “And that woman was looking at me like her next meal ticket. There’s a difference.”
She rolled her eyes, and I bent slightly, running my lips down her jaw to get her attention back where it belonged. “Persephone, I’m not interested in any other women because I already have the perfect woman in my bed.”
“I’m not perfect,” she protested. “I’m also not five-ten, or covered in tattoos, and I apparently can’t hold my liquor—”
“Fuck, I missed you.” I kissed her, and she opened beneath me with a little moan that I felt in my dick.
“The bed is entirely too empty when you’re not here,” she whispered.
“Then allow me to fill it for you.” I gripped her ass and lifted her in my arms. She locked her ankles behind my back, and I carried her to our room. That’s what it was now, ours. The whole house was ours when I thought about it.
I laid her down in the middle of our bed, rid myself of my clothes, and then stripped her slowly, kissing each exposed inch of skin as it was bared to me. How the fuck could she not realize how perfect she was?
“I love the way my skin looks next to yours.” I splayed my hand wide over her belly. “Like you’re not tainted by the world, and I’m the only one who gets to touch you.”
“You are the only one who gets to touch me.” She arched her hips, and I dragged down her underwear, leaving her wholly, beautifully naked.
For now.
I lined my body up over hers, raising her knee so I rested between her thighs. “I love that you’re tiny.”
“Way to not say short,” she giggled.
The laughter stopped when I stroked my thumb over her clit.
“Cannon,” she cried, bucking her hips.
“Where were we?” I dragged my fingers through her slippery cleft and groaned at how wet she already was for me. “Fuck, I love how wet you get for me.”
Her breaths came in little pants, but she kept her eyes on me.
“I love how you fit against me.” My cock replaced my fingers at her entrance. “How I can curl my entire body around you until you’re surrounded by me.”
She rocked, trying to pull me into her, but I held back. “Cannon, please.”
“Not until you get it.” I ran my nose down her neck. “I love the way you always smell like apple blossoms, and I love the way you taste.” My tongue danced over that sensitive spot on her neck, and she whimpered. “I love how I can never get enough of you. Even after I’ve just had you, I want you again.”
“Same,” she whispered, arching her neck to give me better access.
I slid down her body. “I love your breasts and how responsive your nipples are.” I tongued them both, then continued the journey. “I love the way you gasp when I do this.” My tongue found her clit and flicked at it.
She gasped, her hands sinking into my hair.
“I love every sound you make when I do this.” I settled between her thighs and licked her in lazy, long strokes, like we had all the time in the world. Her cries came faster and higher as I worked her with my mouth, sucking gently on her clit to send her over the edge.
She screamed my name as the orgasm took her over, trembling around me as I licked her sensitive flesh through every aftershock.
Then I rose over her, bracing my weight on my elbows as my dick screamed at me to drive into her, to take her hard and fast, to brand her in a way that she’d never be free of me.
“I fucking love the way you scream my name when you come,” I whispered in her ear, biting her lobe gently before kissing her so she could taste just how sweet she was.
“Cannon,” she whined, shifting her thighs so the head of my cock lined up perfectly.
“I love the way you trust me and the way you share your body with me.”
“It’s yours,” she promised, her thighs rubbing against my hips. “It’s all yours.”
But I wasn’t done yet. I captured her gaze, then stroked the soft skin of her cheek. “I have never loved a woman’s eyes the way I love yours. You brought me to my knees with one look. One, Persephone. Don’t ever compare yourself to the women I used to settle for, because they were a series of faceless, nameless, placeholders, and you…” I shook my head, fumbling for the words. “You were everything I wanted and couldn’t have.”
“But you have me now.” She grazed her hands down my rib cage, then squeezed my ass as she rocked forward with her hips.
I took the hint and eased myself inside her inch by delicious inch. “I fucking love the way you feel around me. Hot and tight and so very wet.”
“Like I was made for you.” She sucked in a breath, then moaned when I filled her completely.
“Like you were made for me,” I agreed, wondering if she had been. If there was some other life where we would have been compatible for more than a few months. Some other life where we would have been together forever. My eyes closed at the pleasure that shot through me.
“I love the way you don’t hold back when we’re here.” I grasped her hands, threading our fingers together before I pinned them to the bed on either side of her head. “I love that I can take you slow and easy,” I moved my hips in a slow, steady slide, and she groaned. “Or I can fuck you hard and long.” I thrust deep and fast, reveling in the little cry she gave when I stopped. “But no matter how I take you, you beg for more. And the truth is that I might fill your body, but you fill my fucking soul.”
“Cannon,” she pled, her eyes soft on mine, but edged with need.
“I’ll never want another woman,” I swore, hating myself for the truth of it as I took her in slow, deep strokes. “I haven’t wanted another woman since the moment I laid eyes on you. You’ll always be it for me.” No matter where this led, she’d ruined me for anyone else.
“I love you,” she whispered, holding my face as she rocked with me.
Those words. I couldn’t say those words. Couldn’t make the promise they implied or even let myself believe that she truly meant them.
So I showed her with my body, loving her in the only way I could, locking my gaze with hers as I moved within her, building our pleasure with steady, mind-blowing strokes that felt better and better.
This time, when her orgasm took her, I could have sworn I saw stars in her eyes, and when she whispered, “I love you, Cannon,” I saw the same stars behind mine as I came hard, spilling myself inside her. As we came down, I tucked her into my side and brushed a kiss across her forehead.
A tugging at the covers got our attention, and Persephone rolled slightly, then laughed. “Seriously? Right now?” She stumbled out of the bed, shaking her head as she headed for the closet.
I leaned over to see Cerberus playing tug of war with our covers. “Seriously, my man?”
Persephone emerged from the closet in her bathrobe. “I’ll take him out.”
“I’ll get him,” I insisted.
“Absolutely not.” She pointed her finger at me. “You just blew my mind. This is the least I can do.” She scooped up the puppy and headed toward the glass, double doors that led to the back yard. “You might act like a baby, but you’re sure showing me I’m not ready for a real one, you needy little thing!” She giggled, holding him up to kiss his nose.
Once she was outside, I pulled on my boxer briefs and followed her as far as the door, watching her walk the yard in her bare feet with Cerberus at her heels.
You’ll always be it for me. My words haunted me as I watched my wife in the moonlight.
The truth of it was damning. Even when this fell to shit, when she realized that I wasn’t good enough for her, or she was unable to forgive my eventual fuck-up or slip of my temper, I would want her. My body…my soul would ache for her for the rest of my life.
Fuck, I was in this too deep.
We both were.
She might think she loved me, but it was really just infatuation. Love came with trials. With pain and acceptance. With sacrifice. She was high on endorphins from orgasms and the same rush of happiness I’d felt from us playing house the last few months.
When the chips were down, she’d realize it wasn’t love.
Then we’d both be fucked.
I raked my hands over my hair and barely stopped myself from putting a hole in the fucking wall as the rage swept over me. I’d done everything I could to protect her mother’s happiness and to give Persephone the same while we rode out this ruse.
But I hadn’t protected her from her own heart.
I’d fucking failed her because when this all came crashing down, she was going to get hurt. And if agony tore through my chest at the thought of losing her—which it did, then I couldn’t imagine the pain she’d suffer when this ended.
And I was twice the villain because I’d taken her heart without giving my own, and I couldn’t bring myself to stop. I couldn’t stop laughing with her, or touching her, or making love to her. I was the reason this had gone too far, and yet I knew as she headed back toward me, that I wouldn’t spare us both and end it now.
I was too fucking desperate for her, too addicted.
As she reached the door, I swept her against me and shut it, ready for my next hit of Persephone.
