Damn it.
I’ve been gone from Aurora for far too long.
I shouldn’t have allowed my grandfather to draft me into a game of poker when I was trying to get back to her.
I know what he’s like when he gets into these types of games. He’s competitive at the best of times, but when he’s amongst his friends, he loves to show off just because he can.
I’m sitting in the atrium around a poker table with my grandfather and those friends of his who are just as competitive as he is. I only agreed to join the game to indulge him because he was in one of those hearty moods.
I’d said I couldn’t stay long, but that just got swept under the rug.
Now I’ve nearly been gone for two hours.
First, I had to deal with Jeffrey, that fucking moron who wanted to change the terms of our contract on a billion-dollar project, then I had Chelle coming on to me, practically ready to mount me in the function hall.
I’m not sure if she had one too many to drink, but she hasn’t been like that in years. And that talk I had with her days ago about her and Aurora just rolled off her back like nothing was said.
I sent her home, but I can see her being a problem I don’t need.
It’s been years since she’s been so forthright with me.
Aurora’s presence, my marriage to her, and the fact that she lives in my house have pushed Chelle back to being how she was when I first broke things off with her.
No matter how good she is at her job, there’s a line, and things are different now. Today makes things different.
Well, some things.
The only thing that hasn’t changed is my intense desire for Aurora.
My wife.
Wife, as in mine.
The word in my head fans the flames of that wild, possessive lust that’s consumed me since I first met her.
I simply can’t wait to get home and bury myself inside her. Inside her is where I plan to stay for the next few days.
During my absence from her yesterday, I went from being adamant that I should rebuild those barriers between us to changing my mind in the same breath, then, I started counting down the hours until I next saw her.
I was only away for the day because I had another busy day at work. By the time I got home, it was long after midnight, and she was asleep.
Asleep on top of her sheets with a copy of her post-romantic poetry collection in her hands and dainty slippers on her feet.
Unknown to her, it was I who put her book on the nightstand, took off her slippers, and tucked her into bed. Like a fucking boy scout, I didn’t touch her, much as I wanted to.
But I jerked off in the shower, imagining her on her knees with my cock in her mouth and my cum running all over her face and tits when I came.
The moment the priest declared us man and wife, the decision was made in my head that I couldn’t avoid this woman even if I tried.
I’m aware that means I’ve shoved more shit onto my plate, but all I know right now, at this moment, at this second, is that I want her.
And I need to get the hell out of this game so I can find her.
There are four players left, including me. Jericho would have joined us if he weren’t in Grandfather’s bad books.
The two aren’t really speaking. Grandfather said he’ll talk to me about the Jericho fiasco when he gets back from his vacation. That’s in ten days’ time, which means he’s seriously pissed at Jericho and needs time to think.
At least he’s been his usual self today.
“How about we take things up a notch and put a million on the table?” Carl Jenson hollers.
He’s an oil tycoon who would drill for oil on Mars if he could get there. The man is the perpetual conqueror who hates losing. So far, he’s lost half a million to my grandfather.
“Let’s do it.” Grandfather accepts the challenge with his cigar raised like a sword.
“Fold,” Porter Freeman says, holding his hands up. “Sorry, guys, you cleaned me out.”
He’s next to me. With him out of the game, that leaves three of us. I’ll be gone by the next round. I would have left before, but I know my grandfather wants me to win.
“Let’s go,” I chime in.
Grandfather goes first with the smile of a victor spreading across his face as he shows his hand of cards. It’s a full house—three aces and two threes.
Carl is about to play next, but Jericho rushes through the door with a peeved-off look on his face.
Avoiding Grandfather’s intense stare, he walks straight up to me. The moment he leans down to whisper, I know something is wrong.
“I need you to come outside with me. Now.” He keeps his voice extra low, and there’s an urgency in his tone.
“What’s happened?” I twist to face him.
He bites the inside of his lip. “It’s Aurora. Just come.”
What could have possibly happened here? I left her with Madison and my mother. When last I checked, the three were talking about shopping and shoes.
“Sorry, guys, I have to go.” I place my cards down face up, showing I have a royal flush. From the defeated look on Carl’s face and the bright smile on my grandfather’s, I know I won. Mission accomplished.
Knowing Aurora needs me, I would have left anyway.
Sensing the need for discretion, I wait until Jericho and I walk into the hallway before I speak.
“What’s going on? Is she okay?”
“Physically, yes. Anything else, not so much. She’s fucking wasted. One of the waiters found her outside in the rose garden.”
“What?” That doesn’t sound like her. “Wasn’t she with Mom and Madison?”
“Mom and Maurice had to leave to catch their flight, and Madison was doing damage control with the other crazy little friend. Apparently, there was a flood in her apartment.”
That crazy little friend he’s talking about is Skye. He’s calling her crazy because, within five minutes of meeting him, she asked if she could have his babies.
“Whatever sent Aurora out there must have pissed her right the fuck off,” Jericho continues. “I assume you’d know all about that.”
I snap my gaze to him with my brows raised. “No. I haven’t done anything.” There’s a silent today at the end of that sentence. “What makes you think she’s mad at me?”
“When I went to help her, she thought I was you, so she cussed my ass from here to kingdom come and told me to eat shit and die.” He gives me a narrowed stare and clenches his jaw. “I figured I’d get you to deal with her.”
I don’t even know what to say to him, so I keep quiet. I’m at a complete loss when it comes to figuring out what the hell could have happened.
Minutes later, we walk outside and make our way through the moor.
There’s no one else in this section, so I spot Aurora straight away in the rose garden with her arms wrapped around the trunk of the willow tree.
With her dress spread out around her, she looks like she’s part of the sea of flowers.
As she’s got her head pressed to the tree, I can’t tell if she’s sleeping or awake. Next to her are two bottles of wine and a bottle of champagne. All are empty, so no wonder she’s wasted.
While Jericho hangs back, I rush forward and crouch by her side, then touch her arm lightly so I don’t startle her.
“Goddess, hey there.” I rub her arm, loving the silky smoothness of her bare skin beneath my fingertips.
Aurora lifts her head and looks at me, squinting then frowning when she realizes it’s me. “You.” Her voice is a notch above a whisper but is filled with venom.
“Me.” I nod and give her a hope-filled smile, to which she frowns and looks me up and down as if I just contaminated her air space. “Is there a reason you’re hugging the tree?”
“I don’t want to fall over,” she mumbles, holding on to the tree trunk tighter.
“Baby, you’re already on the ground.” I lower my voice on purpose.
She looks back at me. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s time to go home now, so I need you to come with me.”
“No. All I want from you is a divorce.”
Okay, this is definitely about me. The only thing I can think of is Chelle.
Everything else I could have done is still safely buried deep in the earth, along with my other secrets.
Did Chelle say something to Aurora?
If so, when? Chelle didn’t see her before or after our little encounter.
“We just got married. You want to leave me so soon?” I reach out to touch her again, and she swats my hand away.
“Go back to Chelle. I saw you. The two of you. She wanted five minutes, but I’m sure you gave her much more than that.”
Oh fuck. Aurora saw us, but clearly, she didn’t stick around long enough to see the rest of what happened.
“Aurora, nothing happened.”
“I don’t believe you, and I hate you for this, Knight Grayson.” A soft whimper escapes her lips. “I hate you for making me feel anything for you because I shouldn’t even know you, but this…watching you with her…congratulations, you broke me.”
A wayward tear tracks down her cheek, and she looks away.
Her words and her tears grip me, although I know I wouldn’t have heard ninety percent of what she just said if she were sober.
At the same time, I’ve always been told that people tell the truth when they’re drunk.
“Nothing happened between us, I promise.” I take her arm again. This time, she doesn’t push me away.
“I don’t believe you,” she drawls, her words slurring.
“You need to. Come on, Aurora, you can’t stay out here.”
“Just leave me alone. I’m fine.”
I stare back at her and try to think of something to lure her to come with me. It takes me a few solid seconds, but the perfect idea comes to my mind. I just hope it works. “If you come with me, I can tell you all my favorite parts of your article on why everyone should have an Eat, Pray, Love journey.”
She looks back at me, surprise spreading across her face, and I know I’ve found a winning excuse to get her to come with me.
I came by the article published in an earlier edition of Montrose Magazine from years ago. I assumed it was when she was interning for them. The article was one of their special headliners. I understood why the article garnered such credit the instant I started reading it.
“That was years ago. You read that?” I can see sparks of the real her peeking through the drunken haziness.
“Yeah, I thought it was great.”
“Really?”
“You know it was. Want to come with me and we can talk about it?”
She thinks for a moment, then nods. “I don’t think I can walk. The ground keeps moving.” Her fingers tremble when she releases the tree.
“I’ll carry you.”
The moment I say that, she comes to me, slipping her arms around my neck like a noose.
I scoop her up, noting how featherlight she is, even with the layers and layers of fabric and lace on her wedding gown.
She rests her downy head on my shoulder when I stand, filling me with the scent of her mixed with wine. To me, the combination smells like sex.
I turn and meet my brother’s amused expression, and I know exactly what he’s thinking—that I’ve gone soft, or at the very least, that I’ve become human. Again.
Maybe.
Jericho opens his mouth to say something, but I shake my head.
“Not one damn word,” I warn.
“Alright.” He chuckles and falls in step with me. “My lips are sealed.”
As we walk down the path, I realize I’m probably still in for one hell of a night with my new bride, and I’ll most likely have to shuffle around all my plans for us.
But maybe she’ll hate me less tomorrow.
