Page 57 of The Eraser

Six weeks later

"Little Dancer,"I hear the low tone of my husband. "You need to eat," he says.

He's always looking after me, always making sure I'm happy, healthy, and taken care of. I adore him so much for giving me something I had been missing for years. I love everything about Stephen. While I may not agree with killing people, I know that's who he is and what he does, and it's not something I can change. It's because of who he is that he shows me just how much he cares for me.

"I will," I tell him as I finish pouring him a cup of coffee. With none of the men really knowing how to cook other than Freddie, and it's only because he has to, I've taken over that task as I love to do it. I love to experiment, and thankfully, the men will eat anything I put in front of them. For Stephen and I, breakfast is the meal we tend to spend alone together as the rest of the day, Maverick, Freddie, or Jer are here.

I hand him his coffee and slide onto the seat beside him. He's already got a plate piled up with food for me as he tucks into his own. "What are you doing today?" I ask, wondering if he has to go anywhere.

"You," he replies, and I feel my cheeks heat. How is it that I still blush when he says something sexual?

"Stephen," I whimper as I squirm in my seat.

He chuckles as his hand clamps down on my thigh. I'm wearing his t-shirt. It's oversized and so damn comfortable. "Little Dancer, I fucking love how sweet you are," he says. "But you need to eat. You need sustenance so I can fuck you."

I spear a sausage with my fork and bring it to my lips. His eyes darken as I wrap my mouth around it and release a low moan. I may be innocent, but I've watched movies and read books. I feel awkward sometimes, but the way Stephen looks at me encourages me to do what I feel would be good, and teasing him like this feels really good, especially when his eyes darken as he looks at me.

I see his muscles tense and watch as he shifts his gaze toward the door. "Someone's here," he says through gritted teeth, and my heart races with fear. My whole body freezes, like it's on lockdown.

"Stay here," he commands, rising to his feet.

I grab his hand, my fingers trembling as I ask, "Who?"

He's never like this when Maverick, Freddie or Jer come over. His jaw clenches as he slides his eyes toward me, but then I see them soften. He curls his hand around mine, holding me tightly. He reaches for his phone, and I feel a sense of relief wash over me as I see him relax. "It's Mav," he tells me softly, but I see the anger in his eyes still.

I take a deep breath to steady myself. "Oh God," I whisper, letting out the breath. "You scared me." For a moment, I thought something terrible had happened. I slide out of my seat and quickly press a kiss to his lips. "I'll get dressed. It's a good thing I made plenty of food," I tell him with a smile, hoping it'll ease the anger he has.

I don't turn back as I walk toward our room, my heart racing a mile a minute. God, he scared me. I truly thought something bad was about to happen.

I take my time getting out of Stephen's t-shirt and into my own clothes. As comfortable as Stephen's top is, I wouldn't wear it around my cousin. I pull on a gorgeous pale pink maxi dress that fits me perfectly. I honestly don't know when Stephen has the time to go shopping, but he came home two weeks ago with at least twenty new outfits, all of them even more gorgeous than the last.

I pair the dress with a pair of sandal wedge heels, my necklace Mam bought me for the last Christmas we spent together—one that I was too scared to wear before in case Dad broke it—and my wedding ring. That was another shock. The day we got married, not only did Mallory, Jer, and Stephen have the perfect ceremony, dress, and day, but Stephen had purchased our wedding ring set. I was floored by how beautiful they were. Not only the wedding band, but an engagement ring. Something I hadn't gotten before and hadn't thought about due to the whirlwind of our relationship, along with how quick the wedding came about.

Platinum bands were used for both engagement and wedding rings. My engagement ring is a beautiful Marquise cut that sits perfectly above my platinum band, which is engraved with our initials. I'm so very grateful that Stephen gave me the rings after we returned home that evening as I cried like a baby when he gave them to me. They're perfect and I love them so much. I will cherish them dearly until the day I die.

When I enter the kitchen, I'm surprised to find Stephen's still angry. He's eating, but he's pissed.

"Am I interrupting?" I ask, not wanting to intrude if they're talking about work.

"No, baby, come and eat. Maverick has just informed me that his ma and Callie are on the warpath and demanding to know what's going on. Apparently, they went to your house yesterday as Chloe hasn't heard from you and Mallory in a few weeks, and when Nicola and Callie got there, the door was ajar and the house was ransacked."

I wince. Damn, with everything that has been going on with me and Mallory, I had forgotten to check in with Chloe like I usually do. I've been so focused on ensuring Mal's safety that I let my friend down by checking out. "I'm sorry," I say, hating that I've caused this mess.

"Don't apologise, Jess," Maverick says. "Ma and Callie were always going to be like this. They've been asking for weeks to see Stephen, but he's been busy—rightfully so—and they're worried."

"Shall we go and see them?" I ask my husband, knowing that if we go, there'll be loads of questions and probably tears and arguments, but if we don't, then they'll just worry and that'll lead to more questions and worry.

"Yes," he says through a growl. "But eat your breakfast first."

I retake my seat knowing he's not going anywhere until I eat something. I glance over at Maverick and see he's already tucking in. "Good morning, Maverick."

He grins at me. "Morning, Jess. I should warn you that it's not going to be fun when we get to Jer's."

I sigh. "I know. Aunt Nicola can be a tad neurotic at times."

Maverick laughs, whereas Stephen grunts, his hand sliding along my waist as he pulls me closer to him. "You look beautiful, Little Dancer," he says thickly. "I fucking hate this shit. Your ma, Maverick, needs to calm the hell down."

He's not wrong. Aunt Nicola always makes a huge hoo-ha about everything, especially if she's the last to know about it.

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