Page 45 of With This Ring

When we were sixteen, me and Gavin were skipping classes at that stuffy private school we went to and saw Kai and his lackies. I didn’t plan to start shit, but when they spotted us, they walked over to our table to fuck with us. Before he could get within earshot, I was out of my chair and I tackled him to the ground. Over someone’s table. While they were still eating. We caused about twenty grand worth of damage fighting and breaking shit.

“You think we would have been friends if our dads didn’t hate each other?”

“Doubt it,” he says. “You’re an asshole.” He pauses, assessing me with dipped eyebrows. “Well, I don’t know. Maybe. You’re actually not bad.”

We sit in silence for a bit, eating and enjoying the weather. It’ll turn soon, but for now, the soft breeze feels good.

Kai finishes his sandwich and plucks a few grapes from the bowl in front of him. “What was the Whitlock house like growing up? Dominic seems…warm.”

I laugh. “He is and he isn’t. He loves us. Everyone can see that. But he doesn’t give us free passes for dumb shit. There have been plenty of times he’s punished us for being reckless and careless. He taught us to fight, so there was a lot of hand to hand when we didn’t listen and he had to take us down a peg or two. He was exactly what you heard about him in the streets and a good father at the same time.”

He ducks his head, his eyes dull. “But you had a good father. And you had a brother. You had people.”

“You grew up alone.” I don’t phrase it as a question.

Kai nods slowly. “Nico was around, but he didn’t go to school with me or anything. His father wanted him to live a relatively normal life before he came to guard me. We’re close, but it’s just him and me. Even with my friends from school, I didn’t have anyone. They didn’t understand the life. They knew I had money and clout, so they hung on to me like a cheap suit. Pop didn’t want me to get too close to anyone. Said they could hurt me if I let them in. That’s why he never got caught up in any bullshit. No one has ever been close enough to him to catch him slipping.”

He tries to hide it, but I can hear the ache in his voice. All these years, he’s been alone. I’ve had Declan and my father’s men’s sons around me. I always had people, friends I could count on. Charlie isolated him, made him dependent on only him, for some unknown reason. God, his father is a fucking dick.

“You know, you’re not alone anymore.”

“Til death do us part, right?” he asks with a grin, tapping my ring.

Leaning across the table, I plant a soft kiss on his lips. He smiles, then threads his fingers through my hair and holds me to him, taking my lips in a slow, deliberate kiss. I groan against him, wanting more of this.

I have to adjust my cock when I pull away, a grin on my face. His eyes track the movement, lust brimming in his eyes. “Keep it in your pants, St. Clair,” I say when I sit down.

His laugh warms something in my chest that’s been cold for too long. Since my mother died. A part of me that nothing and no one could touch. Now Kai has wormed his way in there, making me think about…forever.

I grab some strawberries and eat them. Kai does the same, the blush still on his cheeks.

After he swallows, he says, “You make a pretty good sandwich, though everything else could use some work.”

I scoff a laugh. “I didn’t make those. You know cooking isn’t my strong suit.” He grimaces, making me throw the napkin back at him. He bitched about my burned eggs and toast when he was healing from his concussion, gagging over the plate, giving himself a headache.

“If we’re going to stay married, you need to learn how to cook. I don’t want to be poisoned.”

Surprise washes through me. “You can cook?” I mean, the bit of food I stole from him all those months ago was good, but it was just chicken and rice.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Carter. But I’m willing to share. Come on.” He stands up and starts packing the containers in the bag. “I’m going to tell Percy to close up for me. We’re going to have a crash course in cooking. What’s your favorite food?”

I think, because all food is my favorite. “What can you cook?”

“Everything,” he says, handing me the bag. “I spent a lot of time alone. The kitchen was quiet, and Pop’s old cook let me play around in there. Name it and I can cook it.”

I groan, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him close to me. “That’s hot as fuck. That chicken you made was pretty seasoned.”

He scowls at me. “Chicken you weren’t supposed to eat. That was for after my workout.”

“I know. But it was fun fucking with you.”

“And you got your ass beat for your trouble.”

“Did I though?” I ask, remembering how his lips landed against mine when he was done tossing me around. I don’t think I lost that fight at all.

His light chuckle drifts back to me. “Tell me what you want to cook, and we’ll make it.”

“Lasagna.”

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