Page 17 of The Marine

The tailor stands and runs his hand over my glutes, smoothing the fabric, and I’m done.

“Okay. This is fine.” I step away and wave at Briar. “My wife has an appointment, so we need to get going.”

Her eyes widen.

“Of course. I have all I need,” he says, winding up his tape.

I bet you have, you creep.

“Great—”

“I have plenty of time,husband,” Briar says deadpan. “Why not try the other pair on?”

Brat.

I feel my cock hardening as she smiles at me naughtily, and the thought of her being my wife and sleeping in my bed crashes through me. Her lying naked on our sheets, her legs spread, waiting for my mouth.

My tongue.

The tailor glances at me in question.

“No,” I say firmly, ripping the jacket off my broad shoulders, tossing it at him.

“Right. I’ll get these changes underway,” he says and disappears.

Before I can stop myself, I close the space between us and lift mywifeto her feet. I see the mix of excitement and fear in her eyes as she stands.

“If you were my wife, I’d take you home and fuck you hard for that.” My voice is rough, and Briar draws in a shaky breath. “And I want you to know that not a day goes by that I don’t wish you were.”

And fuck that asshole you called a father for destroying us.

“Aidan.” Briar gasps breathlessly.

I shake my head as my hand slides over her hip. “No. That’s it. That’s all I have ever wanted to say to you.”

I step back and disappear into the changing rooms.

More lies.

I have so much more to say.

For the first time in ten years, hope flickers in my chest. Briar is back in my life and we’re being playful together.

What if she could forgive me?

What if there is a way forward?

The question is, can I forgive myself?

Or is the question, can I let her go a second time?

When I step out of the changing room, they give me a ticket and tell me the suit will be ready for collection three days before the wedding.

“Let me take that. I’m picking up Ryder’s and Josh’s suits, so I can do them all at the same time.” Briar says, and I hand her the ticket.

When we step out of the store, my hand goes to the small of her back and she stiffens.

“Please don’t do that,” she says quietly as we walk to the vehicle.

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