Page 81 of Bully

The silence hung between us, as the rest of the restaurant goers lived their life unbothered by the turmoil we felt.

“Do you think she’s right?” Sloane asked in her silky voice, sipping her orange juice, finally looking across the table at me.

“Do I think the feral post office lady that chased a naked Dane through a cornfield is right about anything? No.” I joked and then toyed with my fork absently. “Which part are you talking about?”

“That this could be an opportunity. That maybe it could work.”

In the time I had known Sloane, not once had I seen her uncertain of herself. Not once had I seen hesitation and question in those golden eyes, and it made something in my chest ache a little knowing I caused part of that change.

“I do.” My reply, I hoped, would give her some needed confidence. “I meant what I said last night.”

She snorted gently and widened her eyes, “You said you don’t remember anything.”

“I didn’t. But I do now.”

“You do?” She leaned forward, intrigued. “All of it?”

“All of it.” I held her stare. “I remember telling you I love you.” Her chest rose quickly, remembering the same moment after dinner. “I remember watching you interact with the feral geriatric cougars all night and thinking that I hoped you were just like them when you were in your golden years, and how I want to be around when that happens.”

“Tamen.” She whispered, searching my eyes for something.

“I remember you nudging me when Dolly and Handyman Hank saidI Doand whispering how it all made you almost want to have a midnight Vegas elopement too.”

“I did?”

“And I remember kissing you right there in front of the Elvis wannabe after he said you were mine,my wife.”

“Jesus.” She sighed, falling into her seat.

“Far from it, Rainbow.” I lifted her hand into mine where it sat on the table and gave her a gentle squeeze, rejoicing in her return one. “But for you, I’ll try to be as good as I can be.”

“And if I don’t want that?” She asked hesitantly, and my chest ached at her rejection. How could I grieve something I didn’t even know I had until moments ago? Her fingers fell from mine as I sat back in surprise.

“Then we’ll annul it.”

She rose to her feet and walked around the table in a flash, sitting down onto my lap sideways, uncaring of the other guests in the restaurant. “That’s not what I mean.”

My hands fell to her waist, holding her tight as she laid her lips against mine in a chaste kiss, “I mean I don’t want you to be good for me.” Pulling back, she stared at me, “I don’t want you to be anything but the crass butthole you always are with me. I want the moody and broody man who groans every time I walk into the room in a ridiculous outfit picked specifically to drive you nuts. I want the overprotective jerk who thinks he has a say in who or what I spend my time doing.”

I grunted in response, countering the fact that she believed I onlythoughtI had a say in that. We both knew her days of letting other men touch her were done.

“I want the dark man with scars on his body that only I get to touch.” She pressed on, drawing our conversation back to a serious note. “I want you Tamen. Just the way you are. Because I think the crazy old lady is right, I think our souls knew long before we did that we were meant to give this a try. I think it’s why we’ve been so drawn together, even though most days we can’t stand our own damn selves, let alone each other.”

“You want this?” I lifted her left hand, twisting the pathetic ring with my thumb. “Figuratively, because this ring is pitiful, and I’ll upgrade it immediately. But it was all they had there.”

“I want this. Even though I don’t think anyone will ever actually love me. I don’t think anyone can. But I’m willing to let you try.” She smiled brightly, kissing me again. “Under one condition.” She hesitated, “Two actually.”

“There it is,” I grumped, jokingly and then nodded for her to lay down her rules.

“Condition number one,” She wrapped both arms around my neck and sat up straight. “This is a probation period marriage. You’re on a tight leash, and if you fuck it up, I get to make your life hell.”

Snorting derisively, I rolled my eyes, muttering, “As if that would ever change, no matter how long we’re married. But sure. And the second?”

She took a deep breath and brought her hand with the tiny ring up between us again, “My second condition is that we have to keep this ring somehow, maybe have it melted down into a wedding band or something to go with a new ring.” Her amber eyes misted over slightly as she stared at me. “Even though it’s not either of our styles, it’s still the one you slid on my finger the night we got married. I think that makes it special, somehow.”

“Deal.” I replied instantly, loving the idea of using it as part of the new ring. “Whatever you want.”

“Whatever?” She smirked, “Because there’s something I’ve been wanting again for a while now.”

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