Page 37 of Pucks and Coffee

I’m halfway down the alley when I hear footsteps. I look up to find my wife walking toward me. Her face is red, and her eyes are full of tears. My stomach drops as I take her in. My brows furrow, my heart speeds up, and I pick up my pace to get to her.

“What’s wrong?” I demand, and she shakes her head, wiping her thumbs along her cheeks.

“It’s nothing.”

“Did they hurt you?” I reach out, unable to resist. I snake my arm around her waist and bring her to me, her chest pressing into my gut as I look down at her. A sob leaves her lips, her greenish eyes swimming with tears.

“What?”

“Did they lay hands on you?”

She gawks at me. “Coleson, no. Apparently Elliot only wants to hit you.”

I ignore that. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

She hiccups, and then her eyes settle on the drink I made her. “Is that for me?”

I can’t help the grin that pulls at my lips. I bring the straw to her mouth, heat gathering in my gut as she wraps her sweet lips around it and takes a long sip. Her lips smack as she pulls away, and then she exhales. Her eyes are still flooded with tears, and when they spill over, my heart clenches in my chest. Before I can wipe them away, she does it, and I ask, “What happened?”

She shrugs. “My sisters are being difficult, and I just feel like shit. I don’t want them to be upset with me or think badly of you, but they are doing both. Everyone is blaming you, and I don’t like that. I am just as much a part of this as you are.”

God, I adore her strength and her protectiveness of me. “You don’t have to care what they think or even let them bother you. I don’t care what anyone thinks. I only care what you think.”

No clue when that happened, but saying it only makes it truer. I care what she thinks. Her eyes meet mine as the tears stream down her face. “But I care.”

“I know,” I whisper, my heart in my throat. Her tears are affecting me in ways I’ve never experienced, and I don’t get why. They hurt me, and they feel as if they’re my own tears, falling down my cheeks. Which is fucking weird and truly concerning, but I can worry about that later. “They’re upset because you’re too good for me.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” she stresses, her eyes holding mine. “And I am fully capable of making that assumption.”

“I know.”

She looks up at me again. “I’m sorry for today.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I should have told you that Dan was my grandfather, I thought you knew and that’s why you chose me. It helps that you’re married to your owner’s granddaughter.”

“I hadn’t even considered that, but it’s fine. Honestly, I don’t know if I would have asked you if I had known.”

“No?”

“I don’t know,” I admit, holding her gaze. When she gives me a watery smile, that changes.

I would choose her over and over.

No matter the circumstances.

Not wanting to think or voice that, I bring her straw to her lips once more, enjoying the way they take the straw before she sips the tea into her mouth. I don’t allow myself to do what I truly want, replace the straw with my cock. Instead, I tug her into my side and guide her toward her new home.

Before I say or do something I won’t be able to take back.

CHAPTER 20

Eliza

I fully expected Coleson’s space to be stereotypically male, but it’s not.

The walls are a whitewashed brick, and on one wall, a pair of French doors is centered between two huge windows that look onto a balcony with an incredible view of the mountains. To the side of one window is a room that I assume is the bathroom. It’s larger than I expected, and when I peek in, I see why. The walls are a charcoal gray with a single sink and a toilet that isn’t enclosed.

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