Rafe
Smart man.
West
You’re all going to be wrong one day, and I’m going to love rubbing it in.
Alex
Let’s drown his optimism in whiskey this weekend, shall we?
Rafe
That’s the first smart thing you’ve said all day.
CHAPTER 26
RAFE
The next day, I sit in my office and try to work. It’s always been something to attack. To throw myself into and lose myself to. Let hours slip away and focus on the next thing. The next meeting, the next email, the next acquisition.
Except for today.
I keep seeing Paige’s tearstained face. I hear her gulping sobs and quick breathing. Watch her try to contain herself while I worked to undo the buttons keeping her trapped.
She had a panic attack while trying on her wedding dress.
I didn’t know she had a single vulnerable bone in her body, but there she was, crying in my arms. Breaking apart in a dress custom made to hold her tight.
The only side she’s shown me has red-painted claws and a sharp tongue. A woman set on her goals, one of them being to annoy the hell out of me. I didn’t think I’dwantto comfort her.
But there I was, seeing her come apart and trying to hold her together.
She let me.
Not that it meant anything. Anyone would have comforted her. Anyone would have held her through that. Itwould be inhumane to see the panic in her eyes and not try to quell it.
I look out the window again. It’s become a frustrating habit in the last twenty minutes, ever since Paige lay down by the pool in nothing but a bikini.
I think I preferred it when she stole my clothes. At least then she was covered. Now it’s all long legs, toned stomach, and her blonde hair loose around her. She’s bent one of her knees, propped her arms up behind her head.
She hated me for seeing her break apart yesterday.
I saw it in her eyes afterward, when the wall between us returned. I can relate. You don’t show an enemy your soft spot. You cover it up with armor and with well-crafted defenses. You make yourself into a fortress. And if they ever come close to it—if they see the scar down your side—you make sure they don’t ask you about it.
I look back out the window.
She’s pretty when she’s angry and she’s pretty when she cries. It’s a good thing she’s frustrating ninety-nine percent of the time, to remind me of justwhylusting after my own wife is the worst idea I’ve ever had.
I need to fight again. Leave the house one of these nights and blow off some steam. It’s usually the guilt that drives me into the ring. But right now, I wonder if having her around doesn’t do the exact same thing.
The next time I look up, my eyes stay.
Because Paige has taken off her bikini top.
She’s only wearing her bikini bottoms, arms by her sides, a green cap on her head shielding her face from the sun. Her skin is golden everywhere except her tits, which are a lighter color than her already-tanned skin.
Her nipples are pink.
