“Uh, I did some promotional work for a Toyota dealership a couple of years ago, so when I contacted them, I got a really good deal on a new Camry.” I shrug like it’s not a big deal. It is a big deal, and I know that, but I don’t want Maddox to look too closely at this, because I’m worried he’ll see right through me.
“Can she afford the monthly payments?” He’s in big brother mode, and I’m trying not to shit myself.
So I tell a half truth. “Yep.”
She can afford the monthly payments because they’re zero dollars. But he doesn’t need to know that.
Madds stares at me for another few seconds before he grins and claps me on the shoulder. “Thanks, Wright. I appreciate youhelping her out when she won’t let me. I don’t know how you got her to agree, but I’m glad you did.”
“Of course, bro. I’ve got her back.”
“I know you do. I wouldn’t trust anyone else around my sister.”
Well, shit.
“Yeah. Totally.”
thirty-one
GRIFFIN
The next fewweeks fly by in a blur of practice, games, and quiet moments with Mira. Things with her are mostly back to the way they were prior to that night at the bar, but I wish I felt that euphoria I had when Mir called me her husband for the first time.
Even though it’s what she calls me when we’re alone, now, and I love it, I can’t help feeling like I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe it’s self-sabotaging, but whenever we have really great moments, my mind keeps wondering if it’s the last time.
We have epic sex that ends with us wrapped tightly around each other, Mira’s face flushed and glowing with sweat, and I wonder if this is the last time I’ll get to make love to her. She laughs, so free and beautiful, and I wonder if one day she’ll look at me with the same cold disdain so many of my exes wore in the end. It’s not healthy, and I know it, but my confidence is shaken, and I can’t help comparing this marriage with all my failed relationships.
Mira has picked up on the shift in my moods, and she’s been trying so hard to reassure me. Whenever we’re alone, she’s touching me, kissing me, telling me all the things she loves about me. Still, she doesn’t come right out and say that she lovesme, and I can’t shake my fears enough to tell her I love her.
And I do, I’ve realized. I fucking love the woman with every terrified fiber of my being.
“Hey, babe?” Mira’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts as I stare at my clothes, contemplating what to pack for our next away series. We leave in two days, and I’ve been dreading it and looking forward to it in almost equal measure. I don’t want to be away from my wife, but I’m also looking forward to four days of quality time with my boys. We’re playing New York in their barn, and I’m excited to explore the city. We’ve got a list of places we want to go, with each of us contributing our New York bucket list ideas.
Looking over my shoulder at my wife, I drink her in and smile. She looks beautiful. Her hair is curled and loose around her shoulders, the deep purple sweater she’s wearing makes her green eyes appear even more vibrant than normal, and her jeans hug her ass perfectly. “Hey, sunshine. What’s up?”
“I was just thinking that we haven’t really gone out anywhere this week. Want to walk around the North Loop? I’ve been wanting to visit that cute little bookshop down there, and then I thought we could get some lunch?” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, looking almost shy.
Maybe I’m not the only one feeling insecure.
Turning, I close the distance between us and pull my wife into my arms, enjoying the way she sighs and presses into my chest like there’s nowhere else she’d rather be. “That romance bookstore? What’s it called again?”
“It’s a Love Story,” she says, her words muffled against my chest.
Right. “I’ve heard that place is awesome, and I could use something to read on the plane. Let’s do it.”
The smile Mira gifts me with when she looks up at me is blinding. “Really?”
“Hell, yeah, babe. You know I love a good romance.”
“I do. Maybe we…” Mira chews on her bottom lip again, and I tug it free with my thumb.
“Maybe we what?”
“Maybe we could read the same book while you’re in New York?”
I love that idea. Especially since I think I can make it even better. “That sounds fun. Can I pick the book? I got a few recommendations from one of the Facebook groups I’m in that I think would be perfect. We can read our favorite passages to each other.”
I’m going to read her straight smut. The books I have in mind are apparently absolutely filthy in the best way. My smile grows as I imagine how pink Mira’s cheeks will get when I read sex scenes to her. Hopefully, I can convince her to act some of them out with me. Swear to god, some of these authors have the dirtiest fucking minds. And maybe I’ll pick one where the dude does that growly thing women seem to go wild for. I’ll have to practice my growling if I do that, though. There’s a right way and a wrong way to do the romance growl. I want to make Mira wet, not keel over with laughter.
