I silence her with a kiss. She lets out a little gasp of surprise. I pull back before I get too carried away. “You stuck up for me.”
“Well, yeah.” She laughs. “We’re a team, remember?”
I smile. “Hell yeah, I do.”
But we’re not just a team.
She and I—we’re a family.
Chapter Thirty-Three
PRESLEY
I should be reviewing the menu my mom just sent over to approve for the wedding. Instead, I’m staring at my husband’s face right in the center of a celebrity gossip page.
Creed Family Drama! Newest member clashes with paparazzi at father-in-law’s award gala!
On the bright side, he looks incredibly hot. That black tux he wore fit him like a dream, and the fierce look in his eyes? Well, let’s just say the comment section is less about the headline and more about my husband’s broad shoulders and chiseled jaw.
Seeing lewd comments about Hollis would usually make me livid, but in this case, it works in our favor.
This paparazzo who confronted me at the gala wanted to sell a story. When we got home, we contacted our digital intel guy. After some digging, he discovered a link between the pap and Jace. They used to be roommates.
“Still looking at that, huh?” Hollis walks up behind the couch and catches me with my computer resting on my lap.
“Just checking out the comments again,” I tell him, before tossing a grin over my shoulder. “And you, of course.”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s not that good of a picture.”
I scroll down and down. “Hundreds of thousands of commenters would disagree with you.”
“Hundreds of…” He shakes his head. “People need better things to do.”
“Well, those people are doing what some in the industry pay a fortune for. They’re killing a story before it even begins—all because they’re distracted by my superhot husband.”
“Well, it’s not like the story had any merit to begin with. Jace might have reached out to his former roommate about selling the video, but the guy turned him down.”
“Yeah.” I laugh. “Because Jace is an idiot. You don’t go to paps to sell that kind of stuff. They sell it to you.”
“Too bad the pap decided to use the info to cause a scene.”
I reach up and yank on his shirt, pulling him down to my level. He grunts out a laugh as he bends over the back of the couch and kisses my lips. “Too bad he underestimated the power of a hot man on the internet.”
He kisses me again, and this time he takes his time, cupping my chin while my hand grips his biceps. When we finally pull apart, I ask, “How was therapy?”
“Good,” he replies. He started seeing a new therapist a couple of weeks ago. I’m proud of him for talking to someone about his past and the trauma associated with it. Not a lot of men do. “I like my new therapist. He’s different than Sabine. Asks more questions. He’s funny.”
“So you think he’ll work out?”
He nods. “Yeah. I mean, it’s always awkward to rehash my childhood to a complete stranger. But I feel comfortable with Troy, so I think it will be all right.”
“I’m glad.”
“Hey, do you want to go out to lunch with me?”
“Don’t you have work stuff today?” He has been seriously slacking on his duties to the club over the last month. I am beginning to believe the honeymoon phase of a relationship is a real thing because we literally want to spend every second together.
When we almost got caught fucking in the stockroom the other day—again—I started to wonder if there was something wrong with us. Like, this can’t be healthy, right? I’ve never been this obsessed over another person in my life.
