Page 67 of The Heir

He met me at the trunk.

“You’ll thank me, by being a better man today than you were yesterday. You’ll repay me in your kindness and affection for my granddaughter. You keep her happy, Blaze, and you don’t owe me a thing.”

He held out his hand, and I shook it without hesitation. Marchella and her grandmother embraced. Then they handed us the keys, and left me clutching the marriage papers and the conditions of my release.

“I feel like we’re in some kind of movie.” I said, once they were well on their way down the block. “It’s all so surreal. I thought I was fixing to spend the rest of my twenties in a state prison.”

She laid a hand on my chest and turned, pressing her weight into me.

“Is that why you married me? To avoid prison?”

I flinched and looked down at her, sliding my fingers along the curve of her face, chasing a thick curl behind her ear.

“No. I told him I loved you before he asked if I wanted to marry you.”

Her fingers curled into my shirt, and she gripped, hooking a knee at my hip. Her other hand shot up to my neck and she scaled me like a damn tree. I dropped the papers and fumbled until I had two handfuls of ass.

“Don’t.” She sounded feral, the word catching in her throat. Her tone sparked with warning, but those glistening, blue eyes were threatening to bubble over with emotion.

I hefted my brows in question and rolled the weight in my hands. “Don’t what?”

She swallowed and slowly shook her head, “Promise you won’t ever use that word against me–”

The way that her request wounded me was something I’d never experienced. It left my arms momentarily weak and my mouth dry. I had to juggle her, not to drop her where I stood.

“Promise me, or don’t ever say it to me again, Blaze Anthony Aviston.”

I blinked at her use of my full government name.

“Wha– Marchella, are you fuckin’ serious right now?” I stammered.

I tried to kiss the bullshit out of her, but she wasn’t about to be deterred. I felt the swish of her slap just in time to catch her wrist.

“March!” My voice boomed in surprise.

I pinned her to the brick column of the porch and tried to see her eyes. I didn’t want to fight with her on our wedding day. I didn’t even know what we were fighting about, but I was struggling to keep my face from contorting with irritation.

Her eyes widened and for a sliver of a second, fear flashed in her eyes when my voice exploded.

“Goddamn it.” I bowed my head, letting it rest on her shoulder. “I fucking love you, alright? Get used to hearing it, because I’m not going to shut the fuck up saying it anytime soon, Babe. Look, I don’t want this– Us fighting. What are we doing? We just got married, for fuck’s sake.”

I nuzzled at her until she softened against me and her arms tightened around my shoulders in a hug of sorts.

“I just– I don’t trust easily. I freak out, sometimes. I’m half-fuckin’-spastic on the drop of a dime on my bad days, Blaze. You’ve got no idea what you’re signing on for– Honest to God.” She rambled, her arms snaring tighter with every shuddery breath.

I clutched her ass with one hand and stroked her side with the other.

“Guess what? I’ll be here, holding you on the bad days. And maybe if I keep a calm space for you that isn’t charged with jolts of chaos every other day, maybe you’d be able to come off livewire status and those ‘spastic’ days will be a little fewer and farther between? I’m willing to try and adapt, to tweak and perfect until we are a comfortable fit if you are?”

She pressed a kiss to my neck, and I nipped her jaw. We melted into a kiss that left my cheeks wet with her tears. I held her in a lingering kiss when it ended.

“Get that door open, I need to go get the marriage license out of the shrubs.” I snorted.

She laughed and shook her head, looking down at the keys.

I watched her climb the steps and went to fetch the paperwork.

The neighborhood was quiet, and no one seemed to have ventured outside. That was good. At least no one would be kicking down the door to put handcuffs on me for another assault.

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