Page 59 of With This Ring

That warm feeling I can’t identify stirs in my gut as his lips move slowly against mine. Something flares inside me, something strong and bigger than I can pin down. Kai is my everything. He means more to me than I could ever imagine.

I’m not sure when it happened. It’s like I woke up and Kai became my sun, and I had no choice but to orbit him. He is my center. Fuck, I’m in deep.

I release his lips, slapping his ass before I unwrap my arms from around him. Kai rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, a blush high on his cheeks. “Hurry up,” he tells me impatiently. “Your hair looks fine. Stop fucking with it.” I laugh and follow him out of the room.

Kai is pulling his dress shirt on when I step into the room. I look at him and shake my head. “Wait,” I say, walking to my closet and opening my tall safe. I pull out a bulletproof vest and hand it to him. “Put this on.”

He takes the vest from my hands, then looks up at me with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve been to charity events, and I don’t remember stuffy suits shooting at us.”

Something is telling me that Kai needs to be protected at all costs and if this helps—even just a little bit—I’ll be less worried about him. “Put it on.” I pause. “For me.”

He sighs as if he’s put out, but he does what I ask, sliding the vest over his ribbed undershirt, then pulling his dress shirt over it. “Happy?”

“As a clam.”

His soft chuckle makes my chest tingle.

We dress in silence—I also put on a bulletproof vest so Kai doesn’t feel alone—hide our guns under our jackets—Kai hideshis favorite knife—and trot downstairs when we’re ready. Once we make sure we have all the men that are assigned to watch out for us, we get going.

The event is swanky, a bunch of people that have more money than they need rubbing elbows with the who’s who of the state. It’ll be a boring, stuffy event, but the Whitlocks and St. Clair’s have been attending and donating for years. It helps with our legit standing in the community.

I help Kai from the car, and we head inside to be bored out of our minds.

As soon as we step inside, I spot Declan and Hendrix by an ice sculpture, sipping drinks from their squat glasses. Even though they look relaxed, their eyes dart around, taking everyone in.

Kai and I head over to them. Declan up nods me and Kai, though he probably wouldn’t have greeted him at all if he could help it. Declan will probably never like Kai, but he won’t disrespect him again because of me. That’ll have to be enough.

I paste a smile on my face and step closer to Declan. “See anyone here we need to worry about?”

“No. Looks like it’ll be the same snooze fest it is every year.”

Since we were kids, Dad would bring one of us to these events, so we’d know what we had to look forward to as we aged. I never liked them, and Declan did even less. But we don’t have to stay long. Just enough time to donate and make sure we’re seen by the rich elite in the room. Like we’re normal, productive members of society.

Declan and I exchange a few words, then Kai and I excuse ourselves. We walk around, talking to different people and checking out the causes needing donations. I put down a one-million-dollar donation from our family for a statewide seminar on financial literacy. Kai pledges half a million to the arts, whichsurprises me, but he said it’s because it was the only thing that sounds interesting.

As we walk past a group of older gentlemen smoking cigars and swirling brandy in a glass like they’re passengers on the fucking Titanic, one of them stops Kai. Kai smooths his irritated expression quickly, but I caught it. I smile over at him, making him scoff.

“You’re Kaison St. Clair, correct?”

To my surprise, Kai says, “St. Clair-Whitlock, yes.” He entwines our fingers and stares at the man in an almost aloof way, like he doesn’t care what he has to say about him being married to a man. My chest swells with pride that he’s claiming me like this even if it’s in front of people I don’t know.

The man takes it in stride. “My apologies. Mr. St. Clair-Whitlock. I’m Bert Montgomery. I heard from a good friend of mine that you own St. Clair’s Construction. I was wondering if you were interested in hearing a quick proposal. Or should I schedule a lunch with you?”

Kai looks nonplussed but recovers quickly. “Lunch would be best. My husband and I have a lot of people to talk to, and the silent auction is beginning.”

“Of course. Do you have a card?”

Kai nods and pulls his wallet out, handing Bert his business card. Bert takes it, nodding in satisfaction. “I’ll be calling you soon, Mr. St. Clair-Whitlock.”

With a hand on the small of his back, I lead Kai over to the room that hosts the silent auction. Bending close to his ear, I whisper, “That was unexpected.”

He nods. “Most of the time, I’m the one that puts my business out there. Maybe word is spreading.”

I’m sure it is. Despite the shit the Fensters pulled with one of his builds and how Charlie tries to talk shit about his business, his company does very well. I wouldn’t be surprised if most ofKai’s money comes from the construction company. He told me he wanted to expand, which will bring in even more money.

A few weeks back, one of the construction sites for a strip mall was vandalized, the dry wall had holes kicked in them, all the pipes removed, and it was flooded with water. Spray painted on the walls was:We’re coming for you. We all know it’s the Fensters. The cops and the investors didn’t place any blame on Kai and our illegal business, suspecting teenagers out doing dumb shit.

We walk around the silent auction, checking out the artwork and season tickets to football, basketball and hockey games. Nothing interests me, so I don’t make any bids. Art isn’t my thing—even though my house is full of expensive pieces—and neither I nor Kai have time to watch sports or attend games.

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