by Hazel Grace
When they’re not mine.
I shake my head but she doesn’t relax. Bowing forward, I press my forehead to hers and breathe in her peachy scent.
“I’m sorry, Bish.”
“I know.”
“Thank you for—”
“Don’t give me so much credit. I almost killed your fake baby daddy. I wanna be your real one, Emmy.”
“You’re serious?”
I nod and glance down at her outfit. “How much do you like this dress?”
Emmy’s arms cross along her chest protectively. “I like it.”
“They say to ask for forgiveness later, you know?” I pull back and receive a bratty little lift of her chin.
“Kace Bishop,” Emmy warns. “You’re getting off track here.”
“How?” I circle her wet clit through her lace panties. “I know how to get to the finish line, baby.”
“This is a big responsibility,” she retorts. “You haven’t even spent a night with them. I haven’t even spent a damn night with them, and I’m fucking terrified.”
“Why?” I move the material aside and insert my middle finger inside her and my body calms because it’s home. “You’re gonna do great. You made sure all us boys on B723 didn’t die.”
“You’re grown-ass adults.”
I perk a brow. “Since when? We’re boys who like to play with knives, guns, and fire. We’re all juvenile delinquents.”
“This is different.” Her eyes grow heavy as I slowly thrust in and out of her. “You can’t walk out of a room…or punch them.” My cock steels as her pussy clamps around my digit, and suddenly my mouth is watering. “Bishop…”
“Mhm?” I drift closer to her. “Can we fuck and talk, then fuck again? We get much more done that way.”
“You’re seriously a pain in the ass.”
A cocky smirk illuminates off my face. “Not yet.”
Being across the table from Alexander while I attempt to act normal with that constant chills and goosebumps lining my arms is probably one of the most uncomfortable places I’ve ever been. I can barely look him in the face without seeing how it was the night he hovered over me while the edges of my vision blurred into black.
I didn’t think this would be hard.
I thought my anger and the revenge I wanted to inflict on him would make this easy and rewarding. That seeing him would only ignite it and blaze it so violently that I could move past this without an issue.
I can’t.
My twins are with Mills while Alexander believes he has a chance of seeing him, and that’s what Bishop wants me to ensure.
It makes sense.
If Alexander thinks I’m going to forgive him and we’re working to move on as a family, he won’t push so heavily.
But I can’t focus on anything but the butter knife lying next to my spoon near my plate.
I’m not able to move past what he did to me and still walk out of here thinking that after all of this, I’m going to be just fine.
I handle other people’s problems, so why am I not able to shove away mine?
“Is there too much pepper?” Alexander asks me, drawing me back to our lunch. “Last time you got it, there was too much on the shrimp.”
No, I’m not eating it because I’m afraid you poisoned it.
“I haven’t been feeling well,” I half-ass lie. “Stress.”
“Have you been working a lot?” I nod, and he sets down his fork as if it’s his main focus—my stress. Stupid dummy, he should know it’s primarily because of him. “We’ve had a difficult few weeks.”
I must give him a look at how I’m feeling because he adjusts himself in his chair, looking all pious and handsome in his Tom Ford suit. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was breathtaking and not of this world.
But he painfully is.
“I’ve booked a therapist for myself,” he claims, messing nervously with his watch.
“That’s good,” I force myself to put out as even-tempered as I can manage. “I hope it’ll help.”
“My first appointment is tomorrow.”
I pluck a piece of bread from the basket to give myself something to do other than looking at the metal knife. “Let me know how it goes.”
A somewhat shocking look washes off Alexander and he gives me a curt nod. “I will. There must be some underlying issues that I have that…I blackout from.”
I wonder if that’s why he mentioned he didn’t date much. He stabbed them all.
“I know we have a ways to go,” Alexander continues. “However, there have been some things I’ve done since you’ve been gone.”
“Such as?”
“Your things.” I shrug because I left nothing behind that would do him any good. “Your emails.”
My body goes rigid because only one item comes to mind that he’d have any interest in. I’m not as big of an idiot to log into my work email on anything he owns.
But my personal email…yeah, I’m a fucking moron there.
“Your divorce papers.” I pin Alexander with a glare because I’m already tired of playing wounded girlfriend.
“You knew I was married,” I reply flatly.
“Yes—“ He leans back, carrying on his CEO, I’m not about to take any bullshit stance. ”—but not to your co-worker, Kace Bishop.”
“I never said his name.”
“You’re right. I never asked.”
“So?” I heard the defense in my tone and demand for it to stay the hell out of this conversation. I’ve come this far. I need to keep going.
“I filed them for you,” he states. “I forged your signature and made you available.” I cock my head to the side. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you being someone else’s when you were clearly mine.”
I ball my hands underneath the table and squeeze the bun in my hand to remain calm. “I’ve never seen you jealous before.”
“I never had anyone to make me so.”
I give a dismissive shrug. “Okay, so I’m divorced.” You stupid son of a bitch. “How did you pull that off?”
“Nothing spectacular, just knew people in high places.”
“Makes sense.”
“If we can make this work, it’ll give us a cleaner slate.”
I want nothing more than to dip out of here right now. I can’t bear to listen to another word that comes out of his mouth. I don’t want to think about a future with him.
I want one with Bishop.
“Alexander,” I say gently. “I’m glad you’re seeing a therapist, but…I’m scared of you. I don’t trust you.” I’m going to kill you. “How will we ever get past that? Am I supposed to hide knives from you in the house?”
“I don’t know,” he says. “I’m trying to take this one day at a time. I don’t want you to be terrified of me, and I know I did all of this. But I swear to you, I’d never hurt you again.”
“I want to believe you.”
“You will…one day, I promise. Even if it takes a year, we’ll get through this.” He leans down and brings up a manila folder from beside his seat. “This is the will and everything new that I drew up. Take your time reading it before I sign it.”
I take it from him and place it in my lap. “Okay, thank you.”
“If you see anything you’d like me to change, please let me know. Whatever you want, Emmy.”
He waves for the waiter, and we receive the check. He pays for our meal and presses a soft kiss to the top of my head that I begrudgingly allow.
“I’ll call you later? Is that okay?”
I bob my head in contradiction to what my brain is saying, which is hell no.
He asks if he can walk me to the car, and I explain that I’ll leave soon. Thankfully, he takes the hint that I need some space, and my phone buzzes a moment later.
Bishop: I’m outside. Count to seventy-two.
Emmy: Why seventy-two?
Bishop: Because it’s the number of months that I’ve been in love with you. Count them and se
e how long that is.
My heart swells while tears come to my eyes.
This can’t be real.
He can’t love me like he says he does because how does someone keep that a secret for so long?
But I count anyway, and I hold in the wrecked sob that wants to rock my body.
Outside, Bishop is in Kyson’s black SUV. I climb in the passenger side, just to be hauled to the side and closer to my now ex-husband.
“How did it go?” he mutters as both of his palms hold my face. He searches it for answers or secrets I may keep, but it must tell a story because he frowns. “That bad?”
“We’re…” I bite the inside of my cheek because Alexander took yet another thing from me.
What Bishop and I had was memorable and stupid, but it was ours and no one else’s. We were married in secret and kept it that way—thanks to my stupid ass—but it was just me and him.
Now Alexander fucked that up to.
“We’re, what?” Bishop presses, brushing my cheekbone with one of his thumbs.
“Not married anymore.” His brows furrow when I continue. “Alexander got into my email and filed them. I never signed them, so…use your imagination.”
“Okay,” Bishop surmises calmly. “Then we’ll get married again. I wanted us to do that anyway.”
“I didn’t want to be divorced.” My voice comes out like a whine, and Bishop smirks like an asshole.
“I mean…we have witnesses. Did you want to do it right now?”
“Witnesses—“ I look to the backseat to find two baby seats, and I practically lunge in the direction of them.
And bundled up are two beautiful babies with binkies in their mouths, sucking softly on them as they peacefully sleep.
My gaze meets Bishop’s as he watches me. “How?”
“I told Mills I’d break his fucking arms.” I narrow my eyes, and Bishop shrugs, returning his attention ahead of him.
Crawling back to my seat, I make a detour and plop my ass right into Bishop’s lap—sorta. The steering wheel is a barrier and half a cheek gets to perk itself onto his lap.
Bishop’s arm wraps around me out of habit and I smile down at him. “I wanna pony and a closet full of shoes.”
“Have you been a good girl?” He lifts a knowing brow, and we both have different definitions of what I’ve been lately.
“Depends on who you ask.”
“Well, I’m saying you’ve been bad—“ He nestles his face into the crook of my neck. “—and do you know what they get?”
I smile wickedly. “Dick.”
“No, lack of dick.” My nose wrinkles before Bishop’s tongue tastes my carotid artery. “But there’s always extra credit and good deeds that can be done to make up for it.”
“Such as?”
“Giving me what I want.” His lips softly clasp around my neck as he slowly makes out with it, sending shivers down my whole frame. “I want to take what was supposed to be mine.”
The twins.
I can’t help the immediate defeat that slams through my body. How it slumps and coils to keep from hurting anymore.
I haven’t even begun to wrack my brain on how or what I could’ve done differently in our relationship so we didn’t come to this.
I won’t do it.
I refuse because I wouldn’t stop blaming myself. We were both stubborn when we shouldn’t have been.
Fear is a powerful and petty bitch.
It’ll eat at you so much that the alternative really isn’t one anymore. It acts as a safety net, claiming that if you stay, you won’t get hurt. That you won’t suffer.
I suffered.
I hurt the ones I loved the most.
Bishop nudges me with the tip of his nose. “When you’re quiet, you freak me out.”
I adjust my body to face Bishop and see into his blue eyes. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but I know that I like to be within their scope.
“You’re too good to me.”
Bishop’s forehead creases. “Do you know who I am?”
“Take me home.”
Bishop shakes his head. “Can’t, baby. Not yet.”
My nostrils flare but—fuck me, man, he’s on a roll—he’s right again.
“I kicked Mills out of his place so we could hang out alone with the kids. We got all day.”
“I’ll take it.” I give him a small smile and press a kiss to his lips. “Thank you…for everything.”
Emmy and the babies are bonded like no other, and they definitely know who she is.
We spent the day in Mill’s condo, holding, feeding, and changing diapers—I’m actually pretty decent at everything. Alaric and I connected and chilled while watching the scores on ESPN. Atlas and Emmy sang horribly and made up songs but my wife—she’s still mine in my head, I don’t give a fuck what a piece of paper has to say—is a natural.
Magnificent in each second and moment of us all being together.
A family.
I ordered food, and we ate while the babies napped. Emmy cuddled up with me on the couch, her head resting on my chest as I watched TV, always on alert, not trusting that Alexander isn’t all that stupid as I believe him to be.
Never underestimating the enemy.
Especially when said villain has an infatuation with my petite blanket currently draped over me.
At the first cry of one of the kids, Emmy jumps off the couch and begins to, I don’t know, sprint to check in on one of them, and I grip her by the wrist and pull her back on the couch.
“Emmy,” I mutter against her temple when she’s in my lap. “ I’ve been up this whole time. Nothing is wrong.”
Her chest heaves panicked breaths as she attempts to calm herself down, staring at the second bedroom that Mills has the twins in. The condo is now quiet, and Emmy somewhat relaxes into me.
“Is it okay if I have Kyson look over the will?” I ask her. “He had some experience with it when his grandmother died.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Did you read it?”
She shakes her head, still staring ahead. “No.”
“Emmy.”
“Mhm?”
“Look at me.” Slowly, she cranes her neck and exhaustion is painted all over her features. “Straddle my lap.” Without hesitation, she does, her chin bowed into her chest to look at me.
Emmy is one of the strongest people I know. I just need her to get through this for me so she can be herself again.
The twins need her, and so do I, but I don’t want to see her constantly looking over her shoulder. I don’t want her to be scared of what bumps in the night because I won’t let them get there.
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course I do.”
I lean forward, supporting her back to stay pressed into my chest. “Kiss me.”
Her lips fall to mine in a chaste and innocent kiss that I take full advantage of. I nudge her mouth wider as I slip my tongue inside. Her scent surrounds and soaks into this moment.
Moments before this.
Times where it was just the two of us and the only problem we had, was keeping ourselves safe. We were enemies and lovers enraptured by the need of one and the strength of the other. We’d protect each other at all cost, rip the world to shreds, but we did more harm than good when our hearts beat and wanted to mix in the same rhythm.
I palm Emmy’s ass in my hands and she bites down on my lower lip. Her silence signals that she likes and wants more.
Thing is, I promised Mills I wouldn’t fuck Emmy on any surface of his condo. Even after I did, in fact, threaten to break his arms if he didn’t let me have the twins.
The fabric of Emmy’s dress rides up her body, allowing my fingertips to feel the rough material of lace as she begins to pull it over her head.
“I told your best friend I wouldn’t stick my dick in you while we were here.”
Emmy begins a trail of kisses along the scruff of my facial hair. “And you’re listening to him?”
> I mean, he did lie to me and made me believe he fucked my wife.
Thanks to my wife.
“I’ve been wanting you to take me all day,” she whispers, latching her lips around the column of my throat. “Can we just for a minute?”
A pained moan escapes my lips, but I’m not dumb enough to know that it won’t be for just a minute.
Why are you listening to Mills again?
Because he could walk in his damn place at any minute.
“Might be home soon,” I have the audacity to say. I must be more fucked up than I thought I was because I could make this quick and easy, and really this shouldn’t even be a conversation.
Emmy taunts me by arching her back, giving me more of a handful and a straight view down her back at her flawless ass.
The pink dress she’s in against her dark hair, I feel like I’m cheating on the old Emmy with this darker version that throws caution to the wind.
She should be the one reminding me that our associate will be home at any given time.
“I’m already in enough shit with Mills,” Emmy advises between kisses. “Adding another one won’t harm anything. Especially when I was hoping you’d fuck my ass.”
“Emmy,” I growl. “Try again.”
“You wanna try again?” I feel her lips curl, clearly taunting me to just give up on being so cautious.
My girl sucks mercilessly on my neck like we’re teenagers, slaying into my good sense.
Common sense.
“I know a way to make you do what I want,” she discloses.
“I’m fascinated, baby. What would that be?”
Emmy hops off me like a bunny and wears a shit-eating smile on her face. A rare occurrence these days.
“Something to look forward to,” she quips with a wink. “I’m going to go get the babies.”
Our babies.
If Emmy will allow and want me to be the father to them. I never fucking asked. I just stated and pointed it out like I have a right.
My girl comes out a minute later with one of them, cooing and swinging it gently in her arms. Emmy comes to sit in my lap again and turns her body to show me that she has Alaric.
I rest my chin on her shoulder and gain Alaric’s focus. We stare at each other, in love with the same woman, and one day he’ll stand by my side to protect her.
