Page 87 of Keep Me

Sitting back on my haunches, I let out a sigh of defeat. I know at this moment that I’m not winning this argument. It’s clear. When my wife puts her mind to something, there isnotalking her out of it.

“Fine,” I say with a relenting sigh. “One party. Just a few people. Nothing wild.”

“Thank you,” she replies with an elated bounce in her feet. Then she holds out her hand. “Give me your phone.”

I don’t even argue. I just pull it out of my back pocket and hand it over. “Don’t go looking at my search history now.”

She screws up her face in disgust. Then, without a word, I watch her type out a message.

“Who are you texting?” I ask, feeling a sense of hesitation and paranoia.

“The group chat,” she says, showing me my phone screen.

“How the hell did you find that?” I reply in shock.

“It’s not that hard, Killian. You don’t really text that many people.”

My phone starts vibrating with responses immediately. She smiles down at the screen. “They’re in.”

As she passes back my phone, a sense of dread rises up inside me. I’m always happy to see my friends, but I also know what comes with that. I’ve always been the single guy at our parties, but now I have someone else to protect. Because if any of those men think they can lay a hand on my wife, this weekend won’t end well.

***

“Barclay!” Liam greets me in his usual bellowing excitement as he jogs up the drive from his car and throws his arms around me for a hug. “How the hell have you been?”

I force a pleasant expression and nod. “I’ve been good.”

“Now that you’re married, you never want to party anymore, is that it?” he asks with a laugh, slapping me on the arm.

“I guess you could say that,” I reply with a wince.

“Where is that stunning wife of yours?”

My teeth grind as I stare at him, gauging his interest in Sylvie. At that very moment, I hear her light footsteps as she comes down the stairs and meets us at the door.

“There she is!” Liam shouts when he sees her.

I turn around and watch him approach her with enthusiasm, pulling her into a hug. Her eyes find mine, and she widens them briefly as if she’s scolding me. She told me multiple times to be on my best behavior this weekend; I know deep down she doesn’t mean to not drink too much or to use my manners. She means to avoid acting like some possessive caveman who snaps off anyone’s head for the smallest thing.

I can make no promises.

McNeil and I go into the parlor for a drink while Sylvie goesto the kitchen to talk with the staff. I catch a glimpse of her as she walks away. She turns back to me for a split second, and our eyes meet. The subtle warmth in her gaze is fooling me. It’s telling me she’s happy here and that we make a good couple. Because right now, shefeelslike my wife.

“So,” Liam adds as we grab a drink from the bar. “I know I apologized last time, but I just feel the need to do it again.”

I shake my head. “Liam, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. I pissed you off last time I was here, and it was wrong of me.”

“I gave you the green light,” I reply, but he puts up a hand to stop me.

“You clearly love your wife very much, Killian.”

Forcing myself to swallow and remain stoic, I let out a heavy breath through my nose. Liam’s words send a shot of regret to my chest. This marriage isn’t even real, but he’s right. I do love her.

Instead of arguing with him, I simply say, “You’re right. I do.”

Then, his face pulls into a grin. “I’m happy for you.”

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