Page 95 of All The Happily Ever Afters

I could stay forever like this. Not a care outside of this room. Just wanting to be held by him, all the while, my hand lays over his, our fingers laced.

My heart beats along with his when his phone rings, the sound muffled from his jeans laying over it. The sofa groans as he leaves me, checking it and answers, “Walsh.”

There’s a pang of pain as he does. With the floorboards protesting his steps that lead him away from me.

I lay waiting, wanting him to come back to me while thinking of the many names others have called him on the other end of that phone.

Cody. Marcus. Walsh.

I asked him once why some people call him Cody and the others Marcus. He said it’s because they don’t know him and that’s the way he wants to keep it.

Before I could pry any further, he told me, I only want to be your Grim.

And I believe him.

Because all I want to be is his scarlet angel.

My throat is dry when he comes back, two tumblers of whiskey from my kitchen in his hand. I accept one and take a deep gulp, letting it burn in a soothing way as he settles back behind me.

“Are they stealing you from me again?” I question him, watching as the fire licks up the log, cracking it and leaving blackness in its wake.

He hums a yes that’s deep and allows the regret to linger.

I wonder if one day he’ll stay. My fingers slip back around his, his warmth quickly wrapping around me as my cheek falls against his bicep. He pulls me closer and I let my eyes close when I ask him, “How long will they keep you?”

He nuzzles the crook of my neck, the tip of his nose tickling that tender spot before whispering, “not long. I promise.”

His hand slips out from under mine, and he grips my hip, startling me as he flips my body over so that I’m on my belly. Hot desire overwhelms me as he tilts my hips up, his erection pressing against my core. A shiver runs down my spine and I hold my breath, wanting him and needing this more than I need anything else. His large frame casts a shadow down on me as he whispers at the shell of my ear, “I want you again.”

Thankyou for reading this sinful little short. Need more right now? Check out This Love Hurts and get lost in the Merciless World.For my dedicated readers, this story takes place AFTER the This Love Hurts trilogy.

LOVE YOU FOR ALWAYS

ANA

He’s already dressed, skipping breakfast and heading out the door. Every weekend has been like this. I barely see my husband in the blur of busy days and tired nights.

I wish we could go back to the Golden Coast. To barefoot walks on the sandy beach and times when kisses came easily. Nearly a decade ago, back to the days when Tristan always held my hand. We slept in and cuddled in bed, which always led to more.

Back to the days I was shy to kiss him before brushing my teeth – because back then we would kiss first thing in the morning.

“You’re already going?” I ask Tristan as he pours from the pot of coffee into a thermal tumbler with the company logo on it. I blame his work for all of these emotions that keep me up at night, his side of it cold and empty.

Standing in our kitchen, the granite counters clear of clutter except for a single pile of mail, mostly containing bills, and a vase that’s been empty since Valentine’s day last year, my husband looks up at me. Sympathy echoes in his piercing blue eyes and when he swallow, the cords in his neck go tight. Itmakes the stubble on his jaw look all the sexier. “I have to Honey.” I’ll always melt at that nickname.

I’m a sucker for him. He had me the first night he ever laid eyes on me. Tall, broad shoulders that make even a plain white tee shirt look divine on him… I never had a chance with this man.

“I made you coffee though,” he offers as if I’d rather have a cup of joe than him. My bare feet pad on the dark gray tiled floors as I make my way to him. They’re cold and that makes me all the warmer when he holds me in his arms. Nestling my head against his shoulder, I take in the smell of his cologne, and the feel of his muscular chest as he kisses the crown of my head.

“I wish they’d never sold the company,” I say just beneath my breath.

Four years ago, his company sold to another. Nearly everyone lost their jobs. We were the lucky ones because they transferred my husband. He kept his job, but it moved him three states away for most of the week.

My heart squeezes when he doesn’t say anything other than, “me too.”

I hate how little I see him. I hate that I’m stuck here, with a teaching job I worked my ass off to get, so I barely see my husband. I should be grateful and for a while I was. But distance makes things harder and time can change anything.

“Are you sure you have to go?” I question him when he releases me. I tighten the sash on my robe and fold my arms over my chest.

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