Page 110 of Stolen Rival
PATRICK
Six months later…
“I’m not sure this blindfold thing is my kink.”
My lips twitch at the slight pout to my wife’s full lips. “You mean you’re impatient to find out what I’m hiding.”
She folds her arms and huffs loudly. “I don’t like surprises.”
That makes me laugh. “Sorcha, youlovesurprises. Now sit still, and if I see you try to take a peek, I will bind your hands, too. And we all know thatisyour kink. One of many.”
I swear she stamps her foot. My wife with her brat mode engaged might be my favorite version of her. Sometimes I swear that’s how she won me over in the first place. All those sarcastic retorts and vicious put-downs made me sit up and take notice and see her.Reallysee her for the tough, strong, incredible woman she is. She’s grown beautifully into her role as my partner, not just in marriage, but in life, too.
“Behave, or I’ll have the driver take a detour, and you’ll have to wait even longer.”
“You realize this is grounds for divorce.”
I chuckle as the car slows to a stop. The engine cuts out, and I unclip her seat belt, then mine. “We’re here.”
She reaches up to remove her blindfold. I snap a hand around her wrist. “Oh, no, you don’t. Not yet. Wait there, and I’ll help you out of the car.”
“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Her pout is even more pronounced.
“Yes.” I climb out and round the back of the car, then open her door. “Give me your hand. Watch your head.”
Once she’s clear of the car, I encircle her waist from behind and rest my chin on her shoulder. “Ready?”
“Patrick, I’ve been ready since you told me to wear a nice dress and heels two hours ago. It’s you that’s dragging it out. And it’s freezing. Hurry up.”
“Such impatience.” I remove the blindfold and tuck it in my pocket. Could come in handy later.
“A church?” Sorcha twists her head and looks at me, her eyebrows lifted. “You brought me to mass?”
“Not exactly.” At that moment, Darragh appears from inside. Right on time. I hold up a finger, and he stops where he is. I grip my wife’s hips and turn her toward me.
“Our wedding was born of a ferocious need for revenge, and a selfish desire to grow my business. If I’d known then what I know now, I might have found a way to deal with things differently, but here we are.” A crisp wind blows a strand of hair across her face. I tuck it behind her ear. “We can’t legally marry again, but we can have a ceremony and a celebration that you deserve.”
“A-ablessing?”
“Exactly.” I beckon to Darragh. He approaches us, a broad smile on his face. “Darragh is going to walk you up the aisle. All your friends are here, both old and new. Cathal is here with his nurse. The boys have even bought us presents this time. So, Sorcha Mahoney, will you remarry me?”
She presses a hand to her mouth. “Oh, Patrick.”
“Is that a yes?”
She nods, eyes glistening. “Yes. Yes.”
I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it. “I’ll see you inside.”
Leaving her with my brother, I enter the church, stopping to greet a few of the guests, then stride to the front where Father O’Connor is chatting to Liam. He beams, reaching out his arms to fold my hands inside his old, weathered ones.
“Patrick, welcome. Is your lovely wife ready?”
“Yes.”
Father O’Connor motions to the organist who begins to play. I turn to face the back of the church. As Sorcha appears, her hand tucked into the crook of Darragh’s arm, my chest tightens. At thirty-five, I’d given up on the idea of love. In my field of work, love is a risk we can’t afford to take. Now, at thirty-six, and as I watch my wife smile, her eyes locked on mine, I realize that a life without risk isn’t a life worth living.
I would kill for her. I would die for her. I would burn the world if she asked me to. I’d do anything for this woman standing by my side. My rock, my home, my safe place to fall. The only person I can be truly vulnerable with, who sees the man behind the mask I’m forced to show the world to keep my family safe.
