The Sizzle Saga

by Sarah O'Rourke

  Devil watched impatiently as Molly choked back laughter while she nodded and made another note in her bible. Dropping the wine he held to the mahogany end table next to the sofa with a loud thunk, he wondered if he was invisible. Clearing his throat, he tried again, saying the one thing guaranteed to capture his wife’s attention. “I would have been here earlier, but I wanted to stop by and check on the baby before I came home.”

  Molly froze, lifting her eyes to meet Devil’s. “And? Is she okay? Did they remember to thicken her formula with cereal for her last bottle? Did you remind them that she won’t sleep as well if she doesn’t eat at least three quarters of her last feeding?” she asked in quick succession, her hand already reaching for her cell phone in the center of the coffee table. “Never mind, I’ll just call Momma and…”

  “Molly, drop the phone and come down off the ceiling,” Devil ordered gently, bending to grab her iPhone from the table before her hand could reach it. “Seriously, babe, our girl is just fine. I don’t know if you remember, but your mom and dad already raised a couple of rather spectacular kids themselves,” he teased.

  “Very cute, Devil. Now, gimmee back my phone and let me check on our daughter,” she whined, lifting her chin to blink up at him as she expectantly held out her hand.

  He sighed as he caught and held her gorgeous green-eyed gaze. Damn, he was done for. He was pretty certain that even after just under two years of marriage that the mere sight of this beautiful woman could make him weak in the knees. And when she looked at him with those big Bambi eyes of hers and blinked slowly, he was completely helpless, incapable of denying her anything. If she asked for the moon, he’d find a way to rope that fucker and pull it down for her.

  It had been like that forever. From the moment she had walked into his office, her newly-minted but almost entirely useless art history degree in her excited little hands, he had known that his life would never be the same again. Sure, they had almost grown up together; her brother was his best and oldest friend, after all. But grown-up Molly trumped pig-tailed Molly in spades. Being the savvy businessman that he was, he had known how to get what he wanted...and hiring her as his assistant was a pure stroke of genius on his part. Using his grandmother’s supposed heart disease to con her into posing as his fiancé had been the exact springboard their relationship had needed. A whirlwind engagement that almost collapsed due to a past indiscretion with a malicious ex-one-night-stand had indeed led to their fairytale wedding...finally. Not only had Molly converted him from a love-'em-and-leave-'em kind of bachelor to a faithfully devoted married man, but she had also given him their incredibly loud, albeit beautiful, daughter, who was thankfully sound asleep in her grandparents’ house.

  “Devil!” Molly growled, shaking her open palm at him irritably. “Gimmee!!” she demanded.

  Rolling his eyes, Devil dropped the flat phone in her hand. “Fine, but I just talked to your mother fifteen minutes ago and she assured me that our daughter had eaten her fill and drifted off about an hour ago. If you wake that sleeping baby with your phone call, you will endure your mother’s wrath without my help. I already got yelled at once this evening for almost disturbing our daughter’s sleep.”

  Molly’s lips twitched from side to side as she deliberated his warning. “Fine,” she finally mumbled under her breath. “I’ll just text Momma later and check in with her.”

  “Wonderful, mi amigas. Does this mean we can chit chat about my honeymoon plans?” Mannie asked excitedly, his dark eyes dancing with merriment as he clapped his hands together. “I’m thinking white sandy beaches and teeny tiny speedos for my little Nico! I can’t wait to cha-cha-cha, with my hot hunk of love on a nice, deserted cove with the warm water lapping at our legs while we….”

  “Arghhh,” Devil groaned with a shudder, the mere thought of a mostly naked Nick Santino enough to almost turn him off all thoughts of sex.

  Almost.

  “Savage, I will hurt you if you go any further with that sentence,” Devil growled, pointing a threatening finger at Armando. “Have you already forgotten our conversation about boundaries?” Truthfully, Devil didn’t know if he was more irritated by the reference to Armando’s sex life or the reminder that his present sex life was non-existent.

  “Those boundaries were only for the office, Papi. Here is fair game, yes? We are familia.” Mannie corrected, gesturing around the elegant living room as his espresso-colored eyes twinkled merrily.

  “Think again, amigo,” Devil retorted, glaring at Armando.

  “Unless you want Devil to commence beatin’ on you like a piñata, I suggest you hush, Mannie,” Vivian warned softly, ever the diplomat as she elbowed her Hispanic friend in the ribs before he could say something else to get him in trouble.

  “Devil,” Molly admonished, her jade eyes narrowing in irritation as she looked up at her husband, “You are not being a very good host to our guests.”

  “Yeah, Devil,” Samantha sneered, always eager to egg him on, “I’m beginning to feel rather unwelcome in your lovely home. Sometimes, I get the feeling that you just don’t like having us around at all, sugar,” the beautiful blonde model continued to goad, crossing one leg over the other as she reclined in the Queen Anne chair in the corner smiling knowingly at him.

  “Oh, was I being too subtle for you, She-beast?” Devil replied silkily. “Allow me to remedy that situation and be completely crystal clear. Get. Out. All of you.”

  “Devil!” Molly gasped, bolting to her feet. “Forty years old or not, Nana would blister your backside still if she had heard that! You are being unforgivably rude. Be nice and apologize to our guests,” she demanded, propping one hand on her hip as she gestured at the trio of grinning faces surrounding them with the other.

  Samantha’s lips curled in amusement as she watched Molly berate her husband. Life was never better than when she had a front row seat to watching Devil get his ass handed to him… especially by his wife. “Oh, Molly, honey, I don’t think your husband knows any other way to be. Bein’ a horse’s hind end just comes so naturally to him,” she remarked sweetly.

  “Only with you, Samantha. Only with you,” Devil drawled, wondering not for the first time how the caustic model and his Molly could be such good friends. Seriously, the vivacious blonde bombshell needed to find a new man to sink her teeth into…or better yet, he needed to find her ex-photographer fiancé and find a way to get them back together again. Then, the harpy would be somebody else’s headache. Now, Vivian, he could understand. Hell, he enjoyed the quiet brunette’s company. Both gentle and intelligent, Viv had just made partner at her law firm, and he had been seriously debating bringing Delancy Industries business to her. He knew his corporate secrets wouldn’t be safer anywhere else and there were definite benefits to keeping his business within the family.

  “Can’t you two ever get along?” Molly huffed, looking from her husband to her blonde bestie.

  “Nope,” they both replied in unison, both equally unapologetic and secure in the friendly rivalry they’d maintained for years.

  “At least they’re honest,” Armando chuckled, winking at Molly. “I think su hombre wants a little face time with you, chica. We should get going anyway. If Devil has made it home, then my Nick can’t be far behind. He and I still need to come to some kind of compromise over our wedding tuxes.”

  “He’s still not going for the idea of a crushed red velvet suit coat, huh?” Vivian asked, standing from the couch and smoothing the wrinkles from her stylish grey skirt.

  “No,” Mannie pouted, sighing heavily as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. “He still insists we go with classic black Armani. Really, he’s such a conformist. It’s disgustingly boring,” he declared with a grimace as he straightened his teal suit jacket.

  “Yeah, he’s a real bastard,” Devil agreed quickly, shooing his executive assistant toward the door. “I’d go home and fight it out with him.”

  “Devil!” Molly hissed through her teeth, blowing at a stran
d of auburn hair that had escaped her ponytail out of her face. Pushing up the sleeves of her grey Emory University sweatshirt, she heaved out a frustrated breath before refocusing her attention on the groom. “Mannie, don’t let Devil chase you off. We could still work on some details to the ceremony if you want.”

  “No, Devil is right,” Vivian interceded quickly before Armando could change his mind or Samantha could poke the bear that was Devil again. She could tell by the slightly homicidal glint in the older man’s eye that he was nearing the end of his rope with their wedding mania. “It’s getting awfully late, and I have an early court appointment tomorrow.”

  Rising, Samantha’s chin lifted regally as she straightened the seams of her red silk dress. “You’re very lucky that Viv is my ride tonight,” she informed Devil with a toothy smile. “Otherwise, I’d make sure you were stuck entertaining me all night, Dev.”

  “I’ll be certain to get on my knees tonight and give thanks to the Almighty for His small mercies,” Devil replied evenly with a slight inclination of his head, silently giving Vivian credit for being able to successfully manage this motley crew of misfits.

  “Damn it, Devil,” Molly began to complain, offering her husband a look that promised a reprisal of a violent variety would be in his near future. “Do you have any idea how much work we still have to do?”

  “Don’t worry about it, darlin’,” Samantha soothed, patting Molly’s arm as she passed her on her way to the door, “We all know that bein’ an asshole will be your husband’s legacy to mankind. Don’t let it stress you out.”

  “And on that note, we’ll all be biddin’ y’all a goodnight,” Vivian announced firmly, snagging Mannie’s arm with one hand while she gave Samantha a helpful nudge toward the front door with the other.

  Devil watched the terrible trio depart with barely restrained excitement. He was so close to having his wife’s devoted attention that he could almost taste it. As Molly closed the front door behind them, he smiled widely, eager to get their evening together underway. Now maybe, he and his shapely spouse could finally get reacquainted with each other.

  Scorched: Chapter Two

  Molly

  “Alone at last,” Devil’s satisfied voice proclaimed from a few feet behind where Molly stood.

  “Yep, we’re alone, all right,” Molly muttered. “I’ve heard privacy is imperative when committing a crime like murder.” Closing the heavy front door with an audible click, Molly’s shoulders sagged as she squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath as she leaned her head against the cool wood and desperately tried to ignore the man she’d married. “I cannot kill my husband. I cannot kill my husband. I cannot….” She chanted in a whisper, grimacing when she heard his deep voice interrupt her.

  “Babe?” she heard Devil call from behind her, his concerned voice sounding like nails against a chalkboard at that moment.

  Licking her lips slowly, Molly tried to keep her temper in check as she turned to face her husband. Striving for patience, she swallowed slowly as she noted the satisfied smirk plastered across his handsome face and felt the tenuous hold she had on her self-control slip. “I cannot believe you,” she began quietly, her fingers curling into fists on either side of her. “Seriously, I can’t!” she bit out, her voice rising as she whirled on her heel and stormed around him toward the kitchen.

  She could feel Devil’s confused eyes following her as she marched stiffly through the formal dining room to their spacious kitchen, his footsteps trailing behind her. Skirting the island in the center of the large room, she reached the refrigerator, jerking the steel door open and reaching inside for a bottle of water. Violently twisting the cap off, she threw it in her incredulous husband’s direction before she lifted the plastic bottle to her lips and took a long, healthy swallow, hoping the cold liquid would cool her heated temper.

  Watching her carefully, Devil waited until she’d lowered the bottle to speak. “You wanna tell me what’s got you as mad as a wet cat?”

  “You!” Molly exploded, slamming her water bottle on the granite counter before whipping around to face her husband. “You are what has me angry, Devil,” she announced as she jabbed an angry finger in his direction.

  “Me?” he repeated in disbelief, dropping the wine bottle onto the table before jerking open a drawer and searching for the corkscrew. Hopefully the wine would help dull some of the sting her sharp tone was inflicting on his temper.

  “Yes, you, Devil!” she retorted. Rolling her eyes as the man she’d chosen to share her life with continued to rifle through the silverware drawer she’d just gotten organized that morning, she crossed the room and brushed him aside, easily locating the erstwhile utensil he searched for and slapping it into his hand with the precision of a surgical nurse.

  Wrapping his hand around the metal corkscrew his wife slapped in his hand, Devil pressed his lips together and he strained to keep from unleashing a string of curse words that would sure singe off his mate’s ears. Instead, he breathed deeply, reminding himself of all the reasons he loved his crazy significant other before finally opening his mouth and asking what he really wanted to know. “What the hell did I do besides arrange for a night without our child and rush home to spend the evening with my loving wife?” Devil questioned sharply, quickly removing the cork from the wine bottle with an economy of motion before reaching for two wine glasses from the rack on the wall.

  Silently counting to ten before she could say something she would regret later, Molly stared at the glass of wine Devil slid in front of her. “Devil,” she began quietly, reaching for the crystal goblet, “We discussed our evening this morning, remember? I clearly recall explaining while you were getting ready for work how busy the next couple of weeks were going to be for me. I told you that we still had a ton of decisions to make regarding the commitment ceremony. Do you have any idea how difficult it’s been to get me, Viv, Sami, and Mannie in one location at the same time to hammer out these details? I finally managed it tonight, and you basically threw them out of the house!” she accused, throwing one arm toward the living room as she gulped her wine.

  Molly’s breath caught in her throat as she observed Devil’s flashing blue eyes as he took two steps toward her, his arms going to the counter on either side of her, effectively caging her in.

  “And did you forget that I told you that we needed some time together, just you and me?” her husband asked on a low growl.

  Shifting guiltily as his eyes bore into hers because honestly, yes, she’d forgotten, Molly bit her lower lip. Suddenly feeling a lot less certain of her righteous anger, she slowly nodded.

  “Yeah,” Devil noted grimly, “That’s about what I thought. Mols, something has to give here, honey. You can’t keep burning the candle at both ends,” he warned, hating the way her shoulders sagged in defeat as she leaned back against the counter and stared at him with tearful eyes.

  “Dev, it’s only for a few more weeks. I want to do this for Armando. It’s important to me,” she said softly. “He’s done a lot for both of us.”

  “I know that,” Devil acknowledged calmly, his eyes soft on Molly’s flushed face. “And I’m not saying you shouldn’t want to give him his perfect wedding. What I am saying is that we need to pay attention to our marriage, too. Taking one night just for us won’t tank their commitment ceremony or mean the end of the world, sweetheart,” he explained, lifting a hand to cradle her jaw, his thumb moving over the apple of her cheek. “Baby, tonight I need you. I need us. I miss you. I wanna be with you,” he confided huskily, dropping his head to nuzzle her neck.

  Molly’s shoulders relaxed slightly as she listened to him confess to needing her. She knew he had a valid point. For the past several weeks, her life had revolved around their little girl and her crusade to deliver Nick and Mannie a picture-perfect commitment ceremony. To his credit, Devil had been incredibly supportive…by Devil’s standards, at any rate. More than a little bit ashamed of herself, she realized that her own relationship with her husband had
been the last thing on her mind.

  Dropping her head against Devil’s solid chest, she released a long breath as she felt his strong arms slip around her. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled against his throat. “I guess I’ve gotten a little carried away with everything.”

  “Yeah, I got that when your six-week checkup came and went with absolutely zero fanfare,” Devil replied, smiling against Molly’s temple.

  Eyebrows furrowing as his statement sank in, Molly’s jaw dropped. That couldn’t be right, could it? She’d have noticed being told she could resume sexual relations with her husband, wouldn’t she? Thinking back to her last doctor appointment, she grimaced when she remembered it was on the same day that she’d met with the florist from hell. She’d spent over two hours haggling prices and convincing the stubborn woman that a blend of purple orchids and white antique roses could be done for the wedding reception if that was what the grooms wanted. She’d gotten her way, too, but it had been a bloody, prolonged battle. She’d actually ended up being thirty minutes late for the doctor appointment, and when she’d seen the physician, he’d been running behind and extremely rushed since he’d had to fit her between two of his scheduled appointments that had actually arrived on time. She remembered discussing birth control and had taken a handy-dandy shot, but obviously she hadn’t planned on actually needing it! Honestly, in the interest of her sanity she’d tried to banish that supremely irritating day from her mind.

  And now, as she looked up into Devil’s frowning face, she realized what a grave mistake she’d made with him. With them. “Devil, I’m sorry,” she whispered, feeling emotional as tears stung her eyes. Ever since the baby was born, she felt like a walking hormone, either crying at the drop of the hat or raging against some perceived wrong. She’d thought those days would end with the birth of their baby, but she’d been wrong. Really wrong. She wasn’t herself. Not at all. “I’m a bad wife,” she whispered unhappily, her voice thin and broken as the weight of her responsibilities threatened to crush her. There were so many things happening in her life right now, and she wasn’t managing any of it well.