Page 18 of Guilty as Sin

So my wife has at least one weakness. Trivial as it seems, it does indicate the occasional lapse in her stubborn willpower. A flaw I would not have guessed, and one that boosts my confidence. She’ll come around. I inhale with the promise of it. Cora’s damp hair smells like the shampoo I picked out. Like I’ve marked her with my scent.

An intoxicating thought.

“What all should I know about your mom?” she asks out of nowhere. It takes me a second to remember that she’s scheduled to have lunch with Mam today. According to that same schedule, we’re both supposed to work at the pub tomorrow, and there’ll be a family dinner later in the week. I’m surprised Cora’s agreed to any of it.

“You are planning on meeting her, then?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You didn’t meet Da to walk down the aisle like you were supposed to.” I’m still astounded by the fact she did that. Astounded, and a little furious.

“That was different.”

“How?” I challenge.

“Your dad’s a mafia man. It’s good to stand up to male arrogance once in a while.”

I snort at this, and she scowls.

“What?”

“That’s a bit sexist, don’t you think?” I say with a smirk. “Women can be just as arrogant as men. Take yourself, for instance.”

“Excuse me?” Her voice is low with contained fury.

“You think I’m just going to tell you insider tips about me mam? Why should I?”

“Because—” She pops a grape in her mouth, stalling for time. I watch her delicate throat as she swallows, and realize I’ve swallowed in response.

“Because…?” I prompt, impatient with her and myself.

“It’s to your advantage if me and your mom get along.”

“Doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. You’re both…” I begin. Cora leans the slightest bit forward, and I chuckle instead of finishing my thought. If I gave too much away, it’d lessen the fun. “You’ll see.”

My wife glares but doesn’t try me further. She nods several times, as if to bolster herself, then finishes her grapes in silence. God, the sight of her slipping fruit between her plump lips.

I imagine her with a strawberry. Not just sucking on it and turning her lips red. But dragging it along her skin first. Leaving a trail of juice along the curve of her breasts.

She catches me staring at the neckline of her robe.

“I’m going to get changed,” she says. Her look tells me what I did wrong.

I stand up with her as she excuses herself from the table. It may be ridiculous given that I’m in only sweatpants and she’s in only a robe. But manners are manners, and Mam raised us right. Therefore I know it’s rude for me to stare at Cora’s ass as she walks away.

I do it anyway. She is my wife, after all.

Something dings. It’s Cora’s phone, abandoned on a table by the couch. I glance through to the honeymoon suite. She’s already disappeared, but she’s going to realize she left it behind.

And sooner rather than later.

I cross the room to snatch up my wife’s phone. The text on her screen makes my blood boil. My vision goes red, but I need to assume she’s coming back any second. I am laser-focused, my fingers steady as I hit Reply.

Cora’s phone prompts me to draw her unlock pattern. Fuck. I turn off the screen. I tilt it sideways, scrutinizing her fingerprint smears. I get it right on the first try. Feeling a rush of victory, I do what I need to. Then I go back to the home screen.

Cora’s still in the other room. Given that she only has the one suitcase, I can’t imagine getting dressed will take long. I debate what else to do with her unlocked phone in my limited time. If my wife is a puzzle box, then I’ve been handed a cheat sheet. I grin to myself.

Just then my own phone dings. I curse and pull it out of my pocket.