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“Well, knowing that will certainly make it more enjoyable.” He finishes the banana and tosses the peel in the trash.
“I might not have had a lot of choice in how I got here, but I wouldn’t walk away from Rhett if given the choice.” I lock eyes with him, wanting him to know that I also understand what this is. “And you’re not going to be the worst husband in the world, Ryker. You’re hot, you’re funny, and we both want to make your dad happy. And your dick has enough metal in it to set off an airport scanner.”
The laugh that comes out of him is real. An actual, full laugh that shows his teeth and makes the ink on his chest move. “Fuck. That might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Don’t get used to it. Romance isn’t really my thing.”
“Good. Then we both understand how this works.” He leans forward, and his voice goes low enough that I know he’s being serious even though his eyes are still lit up. “When we fuck, it’s just about getting off and getting you pregnant. The rest is for my dad now.”
I study his face, trying to find the crack. The resentment or the wounded pride or the anger that anyone on earth would agree he has every right to have. He’s twenty-four years old, and he’s agreeing to a marriage where his wife wants his father. Either he’s the most well-adjusted person in this house or the most fucked up of us all.
“Deal.” I extend my hand across the island, like a fucking loser.
He looks at it. Then he wraps his fingers around mine. His grip is firm and warm, and his hand is bigger than mine in a way that reminds me of his father. I pull away before the comparison goes any further.
“Great.” He lets go and picks up his mug. “Now that we’ve established the rules of our fake marriage, are you going to eat actual food, or are you going to graze on cereal and hope my dad comes out to feed you himself?”
“Your father feeds me plenty.” The innuendo is out before I think about it, and Ryker chokes on his coffee so hard he has to set the mug down and cough into his fist.
“Fuck.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re going to fit right in with this family.”
Family. The word sits in my chest but I don’t let it show on my face. I’ve never had one that felt like anything other than a cage.
I hear the study door open down the hall. Heavy footsteps on the hardwood and Rhett’s voice telling someone on his phone that they have until the end of business before he pulls the offer. Then the call ends, and the footsteps get closer.
He appears in the kitchen doorway and stops. His eyes move from Ryker to me and back, reading the room the way he reads everything.
“There you are.” I hold his stare because I want him to know that my focus is always him, even when I’m being a brat. “Ryker and I were just discussing the terms of our marriage. You missed the negotiations.”
Something shifts behind Rhett’s eyes. His gaze moves to Ryker, who lifts his mug in a lazy salute, and then back to me. I watch him wonder what we talked about and how much he needs to worry about it.
“Is that so?” He crosses the kitchen and stops behind my chair. His hand finds the back of my neck, and he brushes his fingers along my skin. My whole body responds to him, leaning into him. I know Ryker can see the way my breath changes from a single touch. “And what did you two negotiate?”
“That’s between me and my future husband.” I tilt my head back to look up at Rhett. “You don’t get to control everything, Daddy.”
His grip tightens on my neck. The look on his face is the one that makes me wet—the one that says I’m going to pay for what just came out of my mouth, and we’re both going to enjoy it.
“I control everything in this house, little one. Including you.” He leans down until his mouth is against my ear. “Especially you.”
Ryker watches us from across the counter with his coffee halfway to his mouth. His expression is more amused than anything.
Rhett presses his lips against my forehead. The kiss lingers long enough for Ryker to see it, and I know that’s the point. Every touch in front of his son plants a flag in the territory he’s already claimed.
He lets go of my neck and moves to pour his own coffee. He leans against the counter next to Ryker, and for a moment the three of us are quiet in the kitchen like this is the most normal, domestic thing ever.
And as fucked up as it is, I’m starting to think this is exactly where I was always supposed to be.
Chapter Nine
Rhett
I’m the one who brings up the wedding because someone fucking has to. I know everyone in this room fucking hates it, but we don’t have a goddamn choice.
Laine is settled on my lap, her legs draped across my left leg, wearing my shirt and a thong beneath it. Ryker is in the armchair across from us with a whiskey, scrolling on his phone.
“We need to talk about the wedding.” I say the words again, because neither of them acknowledged me the first time, even though they both know how much that shit pisses me off. “The Council is going to come knocking if we don’t give them a date.”
Laine shifts against me. Her fingers trace a line down my chest, and she doesn’t look up. “You sure you want to plan my wedding to Ryker while I’m sitting on your hard dick, Rhett?”
