“Can’t you two ever get along?” Molly huffed, looking from her husband to her blonde friend.
“Nope,” they both replied in unison, both unapologetic.
“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 is home, then 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 red velvet suit, 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 disgusting,” 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 strand of auburn hair that had escaped her ponytail. Pushing up the sleeves of her grey Emory University sweatshirt, she heaved out a frustrated breath before refocusing her attention on the groom. “Manny, 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 again. She could tell by the slightly homicidal glint in the man’s eye that he was nearing the end of his rope. “It’s getting late and I have an early court appointment tomorrow.”
Rising, Samantha’s chin lifted 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,” Devil replied evenly with a slight inclination of his head, silently giving Vivian credit for being able to manage this motley crew of misfits.
“Damn it, Devil,” Molly began to complain, offering her husband a look that promised a reprisal. “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.”
“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. Now maybe, he and his shapely spouse could finally get reacquainted with each other.
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….
“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 she felt her tenuous control slip. “I cannot believe you,” she began, her fingers curling into fists on either side of her. “Seriously, I can’t!” she bit out before she stormed around him toward the kitchen.
She could feel Devil’s confused eyes on her as she marched stiffly through the formal dining room, his footsteps trailing behind her. Skirting the island in the center of the large kitchen, she reached the refrigerator, jerking the steel door open and reaching for a bottle of water. Violently twisting the cap off, she threw it in an incredulous Devil’s direction before she lifted the plastic bottle to her lips and took a healthy swallow, hoping the 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 on the granite counter before whirling to face her husband. “You are what has me angry, Devil.”
“Me?” he repeated in disbelief, dropping the wine bottle on the table before jerking open a drawer and searching for the corkscrew.
“Yes, you, Devil!” she retorted. Rolling her eyes as the man she’d chosen to share her life with made a mess of the silverware drawer, she crossed the room to his side and brushed him aside, easily locating the erstwhile utensil and slapping it into his hand.
“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 replied sharply, quickly removing the cork and reaching for two wine glasses from the rack on the wall.
Silently counting to ten before she could say something she would regret, Molly stared at the glass of wine Devil slid in front of her. “Devil,” she began quietly, reaching for the goblet, “We discussed this this morning, remember? I explained while you were getting ready for work how busy the next couple of weeks were going to be. I told you that we still had a ton of decisions to make regarding the commitment ceremony. Do you know how hard it’s been to get me, Viv, Sami, and Mannie in one location to hammer out the 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.
“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.”
“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 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 littl
e 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, but it had been a bloody battle. She’d ended up being thirty minutes late for the doctor and extremely harried, and her OB had been rushed when he’d seen her, working her in between two of his scheduled appointments. 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 face, she realized what a grave mistake she’d made. “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, crying at the drop of the hat. She’d thought those days would end with the birth of their baby, but she’d been wrong. Really wrong. “I’m a bad wife,” she whispered unhappily.
One of Devil’s large hands fell against her hip and squeezed firmly. “Now, that’s just bullshit,” he objected sternly, his jaw hardening as he stared into Molly’s expressive eyes. “It’s been a crazy month. New baby, gay friends committing their lives to one another, needy husband… you haven’t exactly had it easy, darlin’.”
“Still…” Molly whispered, trailing off as she dropped her eyes to stare at the floor. “I should have done better,” she admitted through a thick throat, her nose stinging ominously.
“Molly, if you cry, I’m not gonna be happy, babe. There’s nothing here for you to be sorry about, okay? I just want us to take tonight and devote a few hours to each other. Sound good?” he asked, pressing a gentle kiss against her forehead.
Molly nodded eagerly as she felt some of the tension start to release from her shoulders. “Sounds really good. Did you have something special in mind?”
“Nothing much beyond being with you. I need to put your flowers in water,” he pointed out, indicating the roses he’d bought for her with a nod to where he’d dropped them on the kitchen table. “What about you? Do you have any thoughts on what you’d like to do this evening?”
“Oh, I’ve got a few things in mind that you just might enjoy,” Molly returned coyly with a wicked grin, her overworked mind starting to formulate a plan. “Why don’t we start by relaxing together? I’ll go draw us a nice, hot bath in the Jacuzzi while you put my gorgeous flowers in water. And, I should say thank you for them, too, shouldn’t I?” she noted huskily, going up on her toes to press a damp kiss to Devil’s lips. “Thank you, Devil,” she breathed, nipping his lower lip as she drew back slightly and smiled at him. “Maybe you could pour us a couple more glasses of wine, too, while I get the bathroom ready for us?” she asked, more than ready to take this night and make things up to her husband. She’d screwed up; it was true, but, he’d reminded her where her true priorities were.
Seizing her lips for another heated kiss before he released her, Devil groaned as he let her go. “Get out of here before I decide that a soak in the Jacuzzi sounds overrated and that our nice, king sized bed seems like a much better option.”
Molly giggled as Devil growled playfully against her neck, his hands clenching on her ass. “Give me fifteen minutes,” she ordered before spinning on her heel and hurrying down the hallway toward the master bathroom.
Chapter Three
Molly
Closing the door to the bathroom with her foot, Molly quickly shed her ratty old sweatshirt and nursing bra before she took care of pumping her full breasts. The last thing she wanted to do is leak milk all over her hubby. She already felt like she’d failed him once by not making their six-week appointment special; the last thing she wanted to do was kill the romantic mood she was trying to set now by squirting breast milk in his eye during a pivotal moment. That certainly wasn’t their kink, she thought, wrinkling her nose as she dumped the fluid down the sink and tossed her bra and shirt toward the wicker hamper in the corner of the room. Pivoting to her left, she twisted the silver water taps and began to fill the tub.
Peeling her soft cotton sweatpants down her legs, Molly sighed as she turned to stare at her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors lining the east wall of the bathroom. Tilting her head, she studied her body. Wrinkling her nose at what she saw staring back at her from the mirror, Molly shook her head, lifting a hand up to pull the elastic rubber band from her hair. Shaking her head, she knew it was now entirely safe to say that petite was no longer in her vocabulary. Her freaking curves had curves. Eyeballing herself critically, she bit her lower lip painfully. This definitely wasn’t the body with which Devil was previously acquainted. While she had never considered herself to be one of those tiny waifs that could happily exist on angel whispers, she had at least attempted to maintain some sort of a figure. Well, until now, that was.
Pregnancy had not been kind to her form, leaving her body in the worst condition she’d ever been. Where once she’d had firm, toned muscles, a semi-flat, concave belly and pert bouncy breasts, now she sagged…absolutely everywhere. Molly cringed as she ran a self-conscious hand over the swell of her lower stomach. Okay, swell was a far kinder word than she should have used. It was more of a bulge. And no amount of abdominal crunches or sit-ups seemed to be designed to make that ungainly pouch disappear. Talk about disheartening. God knows she had tried everything she could think of to diminish that unseemly mass. Nothing worked!
Then, as if that unsightly bulge wasn’t enough to draw her attention, there were those faint white lines...those garish stretch marks standing out against her pale skin like neon arrows directing the way to her unfortunate attributes. The only thing she might have going in her favor was the fact that she had at least managed to do a small amount of landscaping in all the right places earlier in the week when the baby had taken a longer nap than usual. But that was not enough to raise her spirits at the moment. Not at all. And while she was inventorying the substantial damage to her body, she really ought to mention that brand new zip code that seemed to have grown around her hips and thighs.
No, pregnancy had definitely NOT agreed with her body at ALL!
Who knew that her seven pound bundle of love could inflict so much damage on her figure, leaving at least an extra fifteen pounds hanging off her previously almost-slender frame?
Molly closed her eyes for a moment and drew a deep breath, trying to center herself as she leaned one hand against the cool marble counter of the bathroom sink. What the hell was she going to do here? It wasn’t as though she could escape through the bathroom window, she thought, cracking one eye to assess the opening above the Jacuzzi. Devil would just chase her down.
It might not have been so bad if her husband was the happily oblivious sort. But, he was not. Never had been. Ever.
Oh, no, her handsome hunk was a visually-oriented lover that memorized every single crack and crevice, hill and valley, peak and pitfall of her body. Before baby, this keen eye for detail had made her an exceptionally happy and exceedingly satisfied woman. Devil had a way of taking his time as he had traveled up and down her body as he’d loved her. It had made her feel special and valued. Wanted and loved.
But, if she was going to be honest (and generally, she tried to be truthful), she didn’t think the Casanova she’d married was exactly going to enjoy the new rides decorating her personal playground. Especially once he got a look at the new equipment.
Her body had changed �
� changed in a big, bad way.
Yep, her figure was markedly fuller while his cut physique had remained unaltered by the cruel hands of pregnancy.
How the hell was that fair? And what if that wonderfully hot, sensual pastime that they’d both once loved so much (yeah, folks, the S-E-X)… what if it just didn’t work for them anymore? What if, once he got a full view of the ‘new’ look she was sporting, her husband decided that he wanted a younger, firmer model? What then? Devil Delancy was a red-blooded, hot-headed, domineering Southern male, after all. He was accustomed to all the bells and whistles that went with her old body. What if she just couldn’t satisfy him anymore?
“Oh, God,” she panted, as her breaths suddenly came faster and faster, “He’s gonna trade me in for something new and shiny!” she whispered to the reflection staring back at her in the mirror.
Scorched (Sizzle #2) Page 2
