“I just…hate to be a hassle.”
That was it. My control snapped.
“You’re not a fucking hassle. You’re mywife. You come to me when you’re hurting. You come to me when you need something. You come to me when you’re hungry or cold or pissed off or horny. Got it?Me.”
She darted her gaze between my eyes, studying me as if searching for even a hint of a lie in my words. But she wouldn’t find it.
“You got it?” I repeated, voice low and rough.
She nodded, slow and hesitant, like she still didn’t quite believe it. “Got it.”
“Good.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead and passed her the container of chicken pad Thai. “Now stop acting like you’re a burden just because you’ve got a bad back and the self-preservation tendencies of a deer in mating season.”
She scowled at me, blinking fast as her eyes turned glassy. “Stop saying sweet shit to me while I look like an injured pirate.”
I settled in next to her and brought my arm around her shoulders, tucking her into my side. “Ahotinjured pirate.”
“Liar.”
“Swear to god,” I said. “You could be wrapped up like a mummy, and I’d still get hard.”
She huffed and rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched. “Your standards are so low.”
“No, baby,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. “My standards areyou.”
Staring at me, she swallowed hard, her throat working like the words caught there were too big to speak. In the end, she didn’t say anything. Just let her head drop softly onto my shoulder, giving in and letting me support her. And that was answer enough.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
LINCOLN
Group text with Atlas, Xander, Declan, and Lincoln
9:27 p.m.
Lincoln:
Gentlemen. I need a little something…
Declan:
Fuck me
Atlas:
Are you in jail?
Xander:
Did you flirt with Mabel so hard that George finally handed you your ass?
Lincoln:
I’m wounded by your lack of faith in me.
Declan:
You’re the one asking for a favor
