in me when I arrived home.
Usually, I welcomed the quiet, but I was taken aback to hear nothing when I walked in. It was only eleven, still early for me. Then again, Saoirse’s definition of being a night owl might have been different from mine.
I knew almost nothing about my wife.
Her room was still as I stood in the doorway. Not even the slight sound of breathing. I turned on the light, finding an empty bed. The chaos from this afternoon had been tamed, her belongings put away. It was almost like she’d always been here.
I walked into the room and cracked open the drawer of her bedside table, smirking at the contents. Saoirse was an undercover dirty girl. She didn’t own just one vibrator. She had a variety.
Pulling the drawer open fully, I paused on the contents near the back. Two bottles of lube and an opened box of condoms.
An open fucking box.
Without giving my compulsion to act a second thought, I picked up the box and crumbled it in my fist. She could keep her toys, but she wasn’t bringing something she’d used with another man into my house.
I charged down the stairs and out of my apartment to the trash chute, tossing the box and its contents inside to be incinerated. Because fuck that.
Not in my house.
Storming back in, I went in search of my wife. We obviously needed to have a conversation.
Clarity struck through my thundercloud of displeasure when I noticed the pool of light in the hallway coming from the den.
Of course she was in the den.
And sure enough, I found her curled up under one of the throws I’d bought with her in mind.
I took in the scene.
An empty bottle of water on its side on the ottoman with a crumb-covered plate next to it. Saoirse was in the corner of the sectional, her head against a cushion. The TV was off, the remote resting on the palm of her slack hand.
Sound asleep.
She was so still I would have suspected she was dead if not for the gentle rise and fall of her chest.
I crouched down in front of her, pushing her hair back from her face. “Saoirse. Time to go to bed.”
Her eyes fluttered but remained closed. “I’m sleepy.”
“I know, pretty girl. But you’ll have a better night’s sleep in your own bed.” Removing the remote, I took her hand in mine, stroking my thumb over her fingers.
“Not my bed,” she mumbled.
“It’s your bed now.” My thumb landed on her ring finger, and the absence of her rings brought me to a standstill. “You took your rings off?”
Her fingers flexed. “That was a long time ago.”
“How long?”
Her mouth curved. “Years.”
“And where did you put them years ago?”
Her hand flopped in the direction of the ottoman. I turned back, immediately spotting them near her plate. How I’d overlooked them, I had no idea, but I picked them up and easily slid them back on her.
“That’s better,” I murmured.
Her fingers flexed again. “It’s so weird.”
“They look good on you, though.”
She peeked at me through a slit in one eye. “Shhh.” Then she tapped my lips with her fingertip. “No more talking. I’m sleeping here.”
I peeled back the blanket, and she responded by curling into an even tighter ball. “Wake up for me.”
“Mmm…no. Not right now. Try back later.”
She was cute, but I was too tired to battle her.
“Come on.” In one fell swoop, I had her up and in my arms. “Let’s go.”
Startling, her arms looped around my neck. “Luca! What are you doing?”
“Taking you to bed.”
“I’m not helpless, you know.” Her head fell against my chest. She inhaled deeply. “You smell good.”
“That’s what showering will do.”
Her eyes finally opened. They raked over me, a line forming between her brows. “I can walk.” She kicked her feet. “Put me down.”
“Stop moving, or we’re both going down.” I strode up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom. At the threshold, I relented to her repeated requests, setting her on her feet. She stumbled a little but caught herself on the frame.
“I think the last two days are catching up to me.” She yawned to punctuate her statement.
“Me too.” I swiped my hand over the top of my head. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
She caught my sleeve as I turned away. “Are we driving to work together?”
“It’s better we’re not seen together again until we tell our families.”
She nodded. “Sure. That makes sense. Good night, Luca.”
“Good night, Saoirse.”
Stripped out of my clothes, I lay in bed, wide awake, despite being dead on my feet. I’d hoped working myself to the point of exhaustion would have dulled my thoughts enough for me to ignore them, but no dice.
I was facing another week in a job I had heavy doubts I was capable of.
Keeping a motorcycle company afloat and profitable in an electric age and downward economic trends.
My entire extended family counting on those profits for their livelihood.
The reality that my father wasn’t the invincible force of nature I’d always viewed him as.
My mother worrying herself into knots over the heart of the man she’d taken care of her entire adult life.
The wife sleeping in the room beside mine.
My fucking dick swelling in my pants at the very thought of her. My desires couldn’t even give me a break. Not even my constant stream of worries would cut off my forceful attraction to Saoirse.
I accepted sleep wouldn’t be coming until I did. With a frustrated groan, I yanked back the covers and took my cock in my palm. And like I’d done dozens of times since the night we met, I closed my eyes and pictured Saoirse writhing on my sheets, the memory of her taste on my tongue.
When I was finished and sated, undeserved resentment toward her rose in the place of desire. But at least I was finally able to shut everything else off and fall asleep.
My next week was so tightly packed I barely had room to think, which I now viewed as a good thing. It was only when I got home, the quiet presence of Saoirse in my den, the place that had been my retreat, everything flooded back.
She was as unobtrusive as possible. She hadn’t asked anything of me since moving in. No chirped greetings in the morning or demands I have dinner with her in the evening. We were barely roommates, and we’d yet to discuss how it would go when we went public with our marriage. We hadn’t talked about much of anything.
That would have to change. In order to be a believable couple, we had to know each other. Beyond the background check I’d had done on her, I only knew vague stories I’d heard about her over the years.
With that in mind, I emailed her Tuesday morning from my desk.
From: [email protected]
Saoirse,
If you have time today, join me for lunch.
Yours,
Luca
Her reply was immediate and to the point.
From: [email protected]
Luca,
Hey, thanks for the invite. I actually have plans for lunch today.
What about tomorrow?
xoxo,
Saoirse
I stopped myself from demanding to know what plans she had. It wasn’t my concern. Saoirse could have lunch with the president if she liked, as long as she understood, in public, she was my wife.
From: [email protected]
Saoirse,
Then I will see you tonight for dinner. We should talk about how we’re going to handle telling our parents, which is something that needs to happen soon.
Yours,
Luca
Prompt as ever, she replied in minutes.
From: [email protected]
Luca,
You’re actually going to be home tonight? I wasn’t sure if you even lived there anymore. I’ll have to cancel the rager I had planned.
I’m up for dinner and talking. I would like that very much. We can also discuss the cat you promised me.
xoxo,
Saoirse
I pressed the heel of my hand into my eye. This woman. I’d forgotten about my promise to let her have a cat. Clearly, she hadn’t.
Clara popped her head into my office. “The baby is in the mood for Thai. Take me to lunch?”
I dropped my hand, narrowing my eyes at her. “Don’t you have a husband for that?”
“Miller doesn’t like Thai food and you know I hate eating on my own. Please, Luca? We can talk about the new list of women I sent you.”
“Is that supposed to be an enticement?”
She rubbed her protruding belly. “Your niece is craving chicken satay. Would you really deprive her of that?”
I shook my head. “At some point, you won’t be able to hold her over my head to get your way.”
She wagged her finger at me. “Fortunately for me, that day is not today. See you at noon.”
