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“You look beautiful, baby.”I’m such an asshole for not telling her sooner.

Her cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink.“Thank you.”

“No,” I shake my head, “I should have told you earlier.I’m new at this, but I’m going to do my best to be a good husband to you.”I spent most of last night telling myself this was a bad idea, but then my pop’s words shut that all down.I’m not a good man, but I can be a good man to my wife.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Sophia says softly.

No, I didn’t.I exhale heavily.I don’t want to tell her.

She deserves better, but unfortunately, that ship has sailed, and she’s stuck with me.“I did what needed to be done.If I let his disrespect slide, every motherfucker in the city would think it was open season to ice skate.I warned him what would happen if he touched you.”

“But—”

“No buts, honey.Disrespecting you is the same as disrespecting me.”I spin around and spot my bike in the back of the lot.I take a step but come stop dead in my tracks when she tugs on my hand.Looking down at her I lift a brow.

“Uhm.”She giggles and points at my bike.“I’m wearing a wedding dress.I can’t get on that.”I take a moment to ogle her subtle curves and the beautiful dress that hugs them perfectly.

“Shit.”Running my hand through my hair, I chuckle.“I guess we’ll have to take my car.”

“You have a car?”she asks skeptically.

I chuckle.“Yeah, baby.We have a car.It snows in the winter and it’s not conducive to being on my bike.”

“I like that,” she says softly.

I tilt my head, confused.

“You said, ‘We have a car’.”She shakes her head in laugh.“Ignore me.I don’t know what I’m saying.”She looks away.

“Baby, we’re married now.What’s mine is yours.”

“Thank you,” she says, the emotion thick in her voice.

“Come on.Let’s swing by your place and then head home.I’m exhausted,” I admit, opening her door and helping her inside.She situates her dress and I close the door carefully, then move around to the other side.As I slide in behind the wheel, I notice Sophia’s knee bouncing nervously.“You don’t have to be nervous.”

Sophia runs her hands down the front of her dress as I pull out of the parking lot.“I know what’s expected of me.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, Sophia.I won’t force myself on you.”I may be a monster, but I’m notthatkind of monster.It’s important that she knows that.

Her fingers slide across my hand perched on the shifter and she threads her fingers with mine.“I believe you.”I wasn’t expecting that.

“Good.”I squeeze her hand.

* * *

An hour and half later, after getting the full tour of her loft above Sophia’s Blooms, I park in front of my—ourbrownstone.

“What is this place?”she asks, looking up and down the street.

“This…” I eye the red brick building.“…is home.”

“But… the clubhouse—”

As I move to exit the car, I pause and look over at her.“Home isn’t just a place you lay your head at night, babe.”

Her face softens.“Touché.”

Throwing my leg out, I climb from behind the wheel and shut the door behind me.I watch her through the windshield as I make my way around to the passenger side, pull on the handle and offer my hand to help her out.

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