Emily
Three months later
WHILE I MADE dinner, Link sat at my kitchen table returning emails and texts. We were finally done with both Havoc’s and the Kinlans’ trials. Jeffery and Noah Kinlan were going to prison for a very long time, and Havoc wasn’t. To celebrate, Link and I were having lasagna, chocolate cake, and copious amounts of alcohol followed by—hopefully—another marathon of sex.
At least, that’s what was on my schedule, and with the scalding looks Link kept throwing my way, I was surprised my panties hadn’t melted right off.
Link finished up his calls and pulled a piece of paper and a pen out of the brown paper bag he’d brought in with him. Using his phone as a ruler, he started drawing lines.
“What are you doing over there?” I asked, keeping one eye on him while I layered out the lasagna.
“Preparing a negotiation.”
Intrigued, I asked, “Who are you negotiating with?”
He gave me a look like I was crazy. “You, of course.”
Now I was really intrigued. Adding the final layer of mozzarella, I asked, “What are we negotiating for?”
“Why don’t you come over here and find out?” he asked.
I thought about resisting, maybe even pretending I wasn’t interested, but Link knew me too well for that. I popped the lasagna in the oven and set the timer, then went to see what my man was up to.
“Here’s the deal,” he said, finishing up what he was writing. “I’ve separated this page into two sections. The right side is yours, the left side is mine. We’re going to take turns listing out the things we want.”
I stared at him, shocked.
“What? Isn’t this how negotiations are done?”
“In a divorce, yes. Split the house, the cars, the kids… what is this?”
“Fuck.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sure as shit isn’t that.” He plopped a possessive hand down on the top of my chair and turned it so I was facing him. “You’re never getting rid of me, baby. Know that in your heart.”
Strangely enough, that made my heart kind of smile.
“I’m all sorts of fuckin’ this up,” Link said, pushing the pen and the paper away.
I’d never seen him so flustered before. It was sweet and a little strange. “What’s going on?” I asked.
He put his elbow on the table and leaned into it, watching me. “You know I love you, right, Emily?”
Worried about where he was going, I nodded. “Yes. I love you, too, Tyler.”
“No.” He sat up straighter, straddling my chair, trapping my legs between his. “I really fuckin’ love you. I love your laugh and your smart mouth. I love your drive and all the shit you do for other people. I love the way you look at me like I’m the only man on the planet, and I love the way your tight pussy squeezes me when I’m deep inside you. I love the way I want to lock you up and hide you from the rest of the world, but I also love the way you wouldn’t stand for that and would probably kick my ass.”
“You’re a Neanderthal,” I said with a smile. “But you’re my knuckle-dragger and I love you. I wouldn’t want anyone else trying to club me over the head and drag me to their cave.”
“Good, because I’d kill the mother-fucker.”
I was about fifty percent sure he was kidding. Maybe twenty-five percent.
“I know you’re cautious and shit, so I’ve been trying to take this thing between us slow.”
“Slow?” I snorted. “We’ve been together less than four months and have been basically living together three of those. People probably think we’re crazy for moving so fast.”
“I don’t give a single fuck what people think.”
He sure didn’t, which was one of the many things I loved about him. Link was comfortable in his own skin, and he didn’t change or act differently based on who was around us. I’d recently taken him to one of the city benefit dinners, and although he dressed appropriately, he was every bit the big bad biker I knew and loved. Especially when he’d caught some douchebag ogling me and had quietly, calmly offered to cut the guy’s eyes out and put them in his wine glass if he didn’t look away.
