“Really?” Her eyes spark with hope.
“Yes.” I kiss her cheek. “I want to make it up to you. I can’t promise it will be smooth sailing, but—”
“I know who you are, Saintly.” She cuts across me, smirking, and I can’t remember the last time she took that teasing tone with me. “And I know who I am. I kinda lost my way too, but not anymore. I won’t let you force the agenda.”
“We won’t either,” Galen says. I’d almost forgotten they were there.
“You two should go away next weekend,” Theo suggests. “Take Lo someplace special for your birthday.”
“Would you like that?” I ask, brushing loose strands of hair off her face.
“I would love that.” The dreamy expression on her face unravels the last of the tension in my body.
“Consider it done then.” I run my thumb along her lower lip, and she visibly shivers. Her eyes flash with heat in a way I haven’t seen for a while. I kiss the corner of her mouth. “I love you.”
Her eyes turn glassy again as she smiles. “I love you too.”
I open my mouth—to ask permission to kiss her—before I mentally slap myself upside the head.
I’m Saint fucking Westbrook, and I need no permission to kiss my beautiful wife.
Lowering my head, I claim her lips, and every part of my body rejoices as her lush mouth moves in tandem with mine.
Chapter 6
Harlow
“WANT SOME COMPANY?” Caz says later that night, entering my bedroom. I set my book down and smile at my husband.
“I’d love some.” It’s amazing how much lighter I feel after the family talk earlier.
Saint and I went for a walk on the beach while the others went to meet up with Freya. We talked and talked for hours, cuddled and kissed, and we both needed that. Being with him like that again reminded me of everything we’ve been missing out on, and I can’t wait for our romantic getaway. Saint is insisting on organizing it and he wants to keep it a secret until Friday. I’m already on a countdown.
Peeling back the covers, I pat the empty space beside me. Caz shucks out of his sweatpants, climbing into the bed in only his boxers. He opens his arms, and I settle my head on his bare chest. “You’re so warm.” I nuzzle in closer, my fingers lightly tracing the ink on his chest. The guys got them done last year—a large heart with my name and the kids’ names inside. They left space for the planned future addition to the family, and I truly hope they’ll be updating their ink next year.
I have all their names, along with the kids’ names, inked on the inside of my right arm, and every time I look at them, it brings the biggest smile to my face. Caz’s strong arms tighten around me, and I briefly close my eyes, savoring being held by him. “You always make me feel so protected.” I sigh in contentment when his hand weaves through my hair.
“I’m glad because I would go to the ends of the earth for you, queenie.”
I press a kiss to his chest, right over his heart, where the family ink rests. “I know you would. As I would for you too.” I look up at him, spotting the telltale purple shadows under his eyes and frowning. “What’s keeping you awake at night?”
His eyes lower to mine, and I get lost in the warm brown depths. “You and Saint were part of it. I’m glad we talked things through.”
“Me too, and it’s going to be okay.” He nods, and I can tell he’s happy we are getting things back on track. “Is it your mom?”
“Yeah.” His face showcases his concern. “Has something happened?” Have I been too self-absorbed to notice his pain?
“Not really. It’s just that Nelia says she’s very down and her mobility isn’t great.”
Caz’s dad survived the shootout at Galen’s house the night Sinner died, but he was subsequently arrested, charged, and imprisoned, along with several other surviving Sainthood members. He died three years ago in jail—from lung cancer—only a few months before he was scheduled to be released.
Mrs. Evans divorced him a couple years after he was incarcerated, and it helped to rebuild the bond with all her children. Caz bought his mom a new house in a nicer part of Prestwick, and his younger siblings still live with her. Nelia turned twenty-two recently, and Jake is eighteen. He just graduated high school.
We discovered Caz’s mom had Parkinson’s just after we found out about Bishop’s heart condition. It was a stressful time for Caz. I know being so far away plays on his mind, and I wonder if we are selfish to stay in Rhode Island. If we shouldn’t consider uprooting our lives and returning to Prestwick or Lowell, even if the thought doesn’t hold much appeal.
“Why don’t you go visit her this week? I know Theo is busy with work, but I could take a couple days off to go with you?” I offer. “We could bring the kids. They’d love to see their grandma.”
“I appreciate the suggestion, but it doesn’t make sense. We’ll be vacationing there next month,” he reminds me.
Every August, we return to Lowell to spend time with Caz’s family and to catch up with Bry. Bry has his own tattoo shop now, and business is booming. He’s been with his girlfriend, Deana, for years, though neither of them seems in any hurry to get hitched. We usually spend a week at the house on Galen’s family grounds—the kids adore playing in the maze—and then we travel to Arizona to spend a week with Mom and Lincoln. They are married now and happy running a successful law practice in their local town. Diesel and Denise try to coordinate it so they are there at the same time, and our kids love playing with their girls.
“And the garage is fully booked this week,” Caz continues. “Plus, Harry is on vacation, and we can’t afford to be another man down.” As a business owner, you’d think you could take time off whenever you want, but the reality is often the opposite.
“That’s a shame, but you’re right. Maybe we should send your mom some flowers, or I could talk to Nelia about booking them both in for a spa day?” I look into his eyes. “Do you think she’d like that?”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “I think that might cheer her up, and it’s very thoughtful.” He squeezes me gently. “Thank you.”
“Do you ever wish you lived closer? That we’d move?” I ask, swirling circles on his chest with the tip of my finger. “Because we can discuss it with the others, if you like?”
He tilts my chin up. “You’d do that for me?” His tone drips with incredulity. And I get it. He knows I’m not keen on returning to the area we grew up in, for a whole heap of reasons.
“Of course, I would if that’s what you need to happen.” And I mean it. They are not idle words.
He lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me tenderly. “I love the way you love me, Lo.”
“The feeling is definitely mutual.” I smile against his lips.
“And I appreciate the offer so much, but I wouldn’t ask that of any of you. I don’t want to uproot the kids. They are happy here, and I know it’d be painful for everyone to move back there. Especially you and Theo.”
Theo’s family situation hasn’t changed, and though he says he doesn’t care—that he’s moved past his parents’ abandonment of him—we all know it’s an ongoing source of pain because of the impact it has had on his relationship with his siblings.
Theo meets up with his sister Ria a few times a year. She’s three years younger than him, and she’s a doctor. She works in Jefferson City, Missouri, and she’s engaged to a fellow doctor. Ria is super sweet, and I’m glad Theo has a good relationship with her. The twins are a different matter. They are seventeen now and starting senior year soon, but Theo has little contact with them.
They were very young when his parents kicked Theo out of the house, so they didn’t have time to form a bond. They are virtual strangers, and despite Ria’s constant attempts to coax them into meeting with Theo, their parents have poisoned their minds to their brother, and they make no effort to get to know him. That hurts Theo. More than he will ever admit. I can only hope, when the twins mature and get older, they will see things in a different
light and reach out to him.
“Would your mom and your brother and sister ever consider moving here?” I throw out the idea as it pops into my head. “We could find a nice place close by for her and help her sell her place in Prestwick? The Newport sea air might do wonders for her mood.”
Caz blinks a couple of times. “Why didn’t I think of that?” His eyes light up. “Nelia only has one more year left in college, and Jake wants an apprenticeship after he graduates high school. He could come work with me or Saint in either of the garages.” I can almost see his brain contemplating the pros and cons. He plants a firm kiss on my lips. “You’re a fucking genius, Lo. This is the perfect solution. I honestly don’t think my family is that invested in Prestwick. It holds a lot of bad memories for them too.” He glances at his watch, whipping the covers off. “It’s not too late to call them.” Grabbing his sweats off the floor, he hurriedly pulls them on. He crawls over the bed, kissing me again. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” I hold on to his face, demanding more kisses.
He chuckles as his lips brush against mine. “Don’t worry, queenie. I’ll be back, and you’re definitely due a reward.”
Desire coils low in my belly. “Damn straight I am.” I swat his butt as he climbs off the bed. “Don’t take too long. I’ll just be here naked, touching myself while I imagine it’s your hands covering my body.”
He slams to a halt, peering at me over his shoulder. “Fucking hell, Lo. I’m hard as a rock now.”
Giggling, I yank my nightdress up over my head, tossing it away. I cup my breasts, toying with my nipples, as I lick my lips, pouting seductively in his direction. “Chop, chop, Caz. Go make your momma happy, and then come back and make your wife happy.”
Chapter 7
Harlow
“THIS PLACE IS gorgeous,” I say, as Saint comes up behind me, circling his arms around my waist. I lean back into his hard chest, admiring the stunning coastline in front of me. The small golden sandy beach is private, accessible only by residents, so it truly is the perfect getaway spot.
“I’m glad you approve,” he purrs, pushing my new lavender-striped hair aside so he can plant kisses along one side of my neck. “I know we haven’t gone far from home, but I didn’t want to waste hours in the car.”
I spin around in his embrace, looping my arms around his neck. “It’s perfect, Saint. We have our own luxury cottage for the weekend, on this beautiful beach, and there is an abundance of restaurants, shops, and bars within walking distance. You couldn’t have chosen better.” I stretch up, kissing the corner of his mouth. “This weekend isn’t about where we are, but the fact we are together. No distractions. No kids. Just us.”
“Have I told you how much I love your new hair?” he says, threading his fingers through the long silky wavy strands cascading over my shoulders.
I grin. “You might have mentioned it a time or two.” I wanted to go full lavender, but the hairdresser said that will take a few trips to accomplish, so we started with some lavender highlights today which she will gradually build upon until my hair is completely transformed. After years of wearing it dark, I’m excited for the change.
“You are stunning,” he adds, and my heart melts. “With every passing year, you get even more beautiful.”
“Or it could be your eyesight is getting worse,” I quip, running my hands through his dark blond hair. Saint wore his hair cropped for years, but he’s let it grow out now, and I love the mess of waves tumbling onto his brow. More for me to grab when we’re in the throes of passion.
“There is nothing wrong with my eyesight, queenie.” He flattens his palms over my ass, squeezing. “You’re fucking gorgeous, and we’re lucky bastards.”
We move as one, our lips colliding in a passionate kiss I feel all the way to the tips of my toes.
Saint has made a huge effort this week to prove his words from last weekend weren’t thrown out in the moment. Every day, he’s sent me flowers. My office at work resembles a florist. Then he booked Jazz and me in for a mani and pedi this morning along with a trip to the hair salon where I decided on a whim to dye my hair.
My other husbands haven’t seen it yet since Saint picked me up from the hair salon and we drove straight here.
“I won’t disagree with you,” I tease, grinding my hips against his as he continues kneading the cheeks of my ass. “I am a fucking catch.”
“And still so humble,” he quips, thrusting his hips against mine.
Desire powers through me, and I slam my lips against his, devouring his mouth. I have missed kissing Saint. Missed feeling his tongue tangling with mine. Missed feeling the intensity of his love. He has made it a point to kiss and hug me every day, showering me with affection, and it’s amazing how quickly things are returning to normal. Thank God, because I have missed my possessive alpha male like crazy.
Saint breaks our kiss, rubbing his thumb along my lips. “This mouth.” His eyes darken with liquid lust. “I fucking love this mouth.” He pecks my lips quickly. “And I have plans for it later.” He winks, and my body floods with desire. “But right now, you need to get dressed, or we’ll miss our dinner reservation.”
Taking me by the hand, he leads me inside. The cottage isn’t huge, but it’s big enough with a large open-plan living space facing French doors that opens out onto the wraparound deck. At the front of the property, there are two bedrooms, both with king-sized beds and en suite bathrooms.
Saint leads me into the main bedroom, and my eyes pop wide at what is waiting for me on the bed. “You are really spoiling me,” I say, striding toward the pretty dress laid out for me. “Anyone would think it’s my birthday.” I toss a quick smile over my shoulder, suffused with love for him. My fingers skim over the soft material of the dress, admiring the beautiful pink, purple, and silver floral print overlaid on top of the pristine white silk. I hold it up against me, glancing at my reflection in the mirror. “It goes perfectly with my hair,” I muse. Happiness bubbles underneath the surface of my skin, and my heart soars.
“Do you really like it?” Saint asks. “I roped Jazz into helping me, but I wasn’t quite sure if it was your style.”
I know what he means. I don’t usually wear something so vibrant, but it’s absolutely gorgeous and it’s Dior, so what’s not to like?
Saint leaves me to get dressed, and I feel like a million dollars when I step out onto the deck an hour later, wearing my new dress and silver stilettos. “What do you think?” I ask, twirling, the silky material swishing around my hips and my calves with the motion. The dress is a halter style at the top with an empire waistline, and the skirted part flows down my body, ending with a hem of differing lengths. It feels gorgeous against my skin, and it’s summery and elegant without being too over the top.
“Fuck me.” Saint’s gaze lingers as he roams the length of my body. “Why did I think it was a good idea to go out to eat?” he murmurs, stalking toward me with intent.
He looks hot in his black short-sleeved button-up shirt and ripped jeans, with a stylish layer of stubble on his chin and cheeks, and his untamed hair tumbling in sexy waves over his brow. His gorgeous blue eyes scream possession as he sweeps me into his arms. “I love this dress, but I really want to rip it off and worship every inch of your bare skin.”
I plant my hands on his shoulders, inhaling the spicy, musky scent of his cologne. I fucking love how good he smells but not enough to say to hell with our plans. I don’t want this weekend to be all about sex. Not when that’s all our relationship has been about these past few months. I want to enjoy time with him outside the bedroom. To laugh and have fun and just enjoy being with my husband. “You can take a rain check because I’m all dolled up now and raring to go.”
“I’ll be calling in that rain check later.” His eyes blaze with heat as he releases me, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket.
“I’m banking on it.” I deliberately lick my lips and thrust out my chest, planting one hand on my hip and striking a pose.<
br />
“I need to take a photo for the guys. They will kill me otherwise.”
I offer up my most seductive pout, angling my body in a few different poses while Saint snaps away.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” Saint says, swiping his fingers across the keypad. “The guys will go crazy when they see these.” He shoots me a smug grin, repocketing his phone and offering me his arm.
I’m sensing ulterior motives, and it’s classic Saint. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” I ask, looping my arm through his.
“Nope.” He chuckles. “I still love rubbing their noses in it.”
“You’re so competitive.” I nestle into his side as he leads us down the steps and around the side of the house. “But I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
A half hour later, we are in a fashionable bar and grill, seated beside one another in a velvet-backed booth, as sultry beats reverberate in the background. “This place is awesome,” I admit, taking another sip of my champagne cocktail.
“I thought you’d like it better than the Michelin-starred restaurant I almost booked.”
I’m sure the food is exquisite if it’s a Michelin-starred restaurant, but this place is more my vibe. “You did good, Saintly.” I plant a lingering kiss on his cheek. “You did real good, and you’re so getting laid later.”
A warm hand lands on my thigh as he leans in, pressing his mouth to my ear. “I hope you weren’t planning on getting much sleep because I want to reacquaint myself with every inch of your body.”
I cup his face in my hands. “That is music to my ears, Saintly.”
“Speaking of music…” Saint gently removes my hands from his face, entwining his fingers through mine. “Dance with me?” He arches a brow.
“I would love to.” It doesn’t matter that there is no one on the small dance floor at the rear of the bar or that everyone looks at us as Saint leads me to it because, for me, no one else exists but the man staring at me like I’m his everything. Saint twirls me around, dips me down low, and cradles me close as he unashamedly grinds his hips against mine, and we laugh and kiss as we dance, oblivious to our surroundings, only stopping when the waitress informs us our food is at our table.
The Sainthood : A Dark High School Romance (The Complete Series) Page 97
