"I didn't invite Derek. Dennis did. They're college friends." She squeezes harder. "But you brought Kruk. That terrifying, devoted green giant who can't take his eyes off you for five seconds. Who fixed my cake and intimidated Derek into silence and looked at you like you're magic."
"He doesn't?—"
"He does. Everyone can see it. Even Mom, and she's been three glasses deep in champagne since the ceremony started." Monica's expression turns serious. "I don't care if you met him at a library or gym." I care that when you look at him, you look happy. I'm actually happy. Not performing happy or pretending happy or the happy that's really just anxiety wearing a smile."
My throat tightens. "It started as fake."
"And now?"
I glance back toward Kruk. He's exactly where he said he'd be, positioned against the wall, arms crossed, watching me with that intensity that makes my bones feel liquid and my heart do complicated acrobatics.
"Now it's the most real thing in my life."
Monica grins. Pulls me into a hug that smells like expensive perfume and wedding flowers. "Good. Keep him. And if he ever hurts you, I'll hit him with my bouquet."
"That's not much of a threat."
"It's symbolic." She pulls back, mascara slightly smudged, eyes bright. "Now go dance with your fake fiancé. I have a husband to seduce in about twenty minutes and I need you to distract Mom."
I laugh. Actually laugh, bright and real and untainted by nerves. "Deal."
She floats back toward Dennis, and I turn to find Kruk crossing the dance floor toward me. He moves through the crowd like a battleship parting waves, completely unaware or uncaring about the space people give him.
He stops in front of me. Offers his hand.
"Another dance?"
I take it. "Always."
We return to the floor. This time he holds me tighter, more confident in the motion. I wrap my arms around his neck and let myself sink into the feel of him.
The song shifts to something uptempo but we don't change our rhythm. Just keep swaying, locked together, ignoring the world.
Kruk's breath stirs my hair, warm and steady against my temple. His voice rumbles against my ear when he speaks, low and private, like we're the only two people in the entire reception hall.
"I have a surprise for the honeymoon suite."
My heart does a little skip, not entirely from nerves this time. I pull back just enough to look up at him, tilting my head so I can see his face properly. His expression is unreadable in that way it usually is, all stoic intensity and unwavering focus. "What surprise?"
"A good one." His tone is matter-of-fact, like that explains everything.
I can't help the small laugh that escapes. "That's not ominous at all. Coming from a guy who considers tactical gear an appropriate anniversary gift."
His mouth quirks at the corner. Almost a smile, the kind that transforms his entire face for just a second, softening all those hard edges. "Trust me."
And the terrifying, wonderful, absolutely insane thing is that I do.
Completely.
Without hesitation or second-guessing or any of the usual spiral of anxiety that normally accompanies my decision-making process. I trust him. This orc who appeared in my life because of tequila and desperation, who calls wedding guests "potential hostiles" and treats buffet lines like tactical operations. Who holds me like I'm something precious. Who looks at me like I'm the mission objective he's been waiting his whole life to secure.
CHAPTER 14
KRUK
The trust in her eyes does something dangerous to my chest. Makes it feel tighter and looser at the same time, like armor cracking under pressure I didn't know existed until now.
I spent years in the war pits learning to read opponents. How to calculate trajectory and force. How to identify weaknesses and exploit them with precision. None of that prepared me for what happens when Colletta Fears looks at me like I'm not a weapon. Like I'm something worth keeping.
