I don’t flinch. “You seem to think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you? You sat here with me for over an hour and had no idea that I was a bartender.”
“But,” I continue, my voice steady, still composed. “Just know that if you ever come to my house and speak to my wife the way you did this morning, we’re going to have problems, Charles.”
That gets his attention.
“So, I don’t care what you think of me, what preconceived notions you seem to have. Have them. I don’t care. But what I do care about is Silvie. And I will never tolerate someone speaking to her the way you did this morning.”
My words land heavy and deliberate. I’m still calm and steady.
And Charles, even though he’s been upset, seems to be thinking about this. He knows I’m right.
He stares at me for a long moment as if he’s gauging me. Then he purses his lips and takes a sip of his drink.
A few minutes later, he says quietly, “Fine.”
He stands, reaches for his wallet, and lays down a big bill on the counter. He slips on his jacket and looks over at me one last time. He shakes his head, turns, and walks away into the hotel lobby as if nothing happened.
I finish my drink and let the warmth settle in. Yeah, he’s not a bad man. But he’s been warned. I’m a good man until I’m not.
I protect what’s mine.
And that’s my wife.
I didn’t head home right away. I sat there thinking about what he said. He questioned why I was marrying his billionaire heiress daughter. And hearing that reminds me just how different the worlds we live in are. And the family we come from. I don’t know how Silvie and I could make this work if this were really real. And it’s feeling pretty damn real for both of us. We have to figure this out before it goes further. What this would look like and how we keep it together. Because family is important to me. My mom is everything to me. And I want Silvie to have that, too. She deserves that.
I don’t give a shit about her money. Money doesn’t motivate me.
When I walk home, the lights are on low, and the house feels like a home. For once, I’m not coming home to a dark and quiet house. I get to come home to Silvie.
Silvie is propped up in bed, laptop open, glasses on. The hot ones that make her look like a badass CEO. She’s got on those tiny shorts and a tank top that looks like it might actually be mine. She’s tucked one leg under herself, focused and biting her lip like she’s pondering something important.
Fuck me. She’s so beautiful. And she’s mine. Well, almost mine.
I pause in the doorway and watch her. I just spent time putting her father on notice, and now I’m supposed to lie down next to her and sleep like my heart isn’t hers. Earlier, we were so close to having sex. She felt so good. We have to talk before we have sex, though. We have to be on the same page before we take it further.
“Hey,” I say.
She looks up and smiles. “Hey. Where have you been?”
I cross the room, then lean down and kiss her. She melts into it, soft, familiar, and then pulls back and grins. “You taste like bourbon.”
“Guilty.”
She closes her laptop and sets it aside. “I was just getting some work done.”
“When are you going back to New York?” I ask.
She shifts, making space for me, and says, “I wanted to talk to you about that.”
“Yeah?”
She clears her throat. “I have a favor.”
“Sure,” I say. “What?”
She hesitates. “I know it’s last minute, but I was wondering if you’d like to go with me.”
I mentally go through what I’d need to do to get things done here to go with her, and she’s watching me, waiting for my reaction.
