Page 30 of Accepted Precedent
Mickey
I’m known for being a cold, ruthless businessman, but all bets are off when it comes to Evelyn. She’s the light to my dark, the calm to my storm. She risked everything for Andrew, and I’m ready to do the same for her.
Thunder booms, but neither of us startle. Even with it being unseasonably warm tonight, I shrug off my jacket and drape it over her shoulders. “You’re going to catch a cold if you stay out here much longer.”
She lets out a shaky breath, and I can’t fucking help myself, sealing my lips to hers. It takes her by surprise, but only for a moment. Her sweet whimpers have my heart aching for more.
“Someone might see us,” she mutters, not breaking away, but her words make me end what I’ve wanted more than anything in years.
“As soon as Maryland is called, you’re coming home with me.”
Evie’s brows furrow. “What about Andy? It’s election night.”
“I want both of you tonight.”
“It’s… not a good idea.”
“What are you worried about, love?” Her gaze falls to my chest, and I tilt her chin as I repeat, “What are you worried about?”
“You. Me. This. All of it. There’s also the matter of not being in our twenties anymore.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” It comes out as a growl, but I can’t help it. If she dares imply what I think she is, I’ll drag her into a supply closet or conference room to prove how much I want her—just as she is.
“The dress you bought me for the engagement photos? That was a size eight. I’m a twelve now, Mick. Fourteen depending on the brand. I’ve got hips for days and cellulite in places I’d never want you to see.”
“I’ll stop you right there.” I grip her hips and pull her flush with me. “You’re beautiful—not just your body. If anything, you’re even more gorgeous.” I squeeze tighter. “Plus, I like having something to hold on to.” A small smirk tilts her lips, but I press a single soft kiss to the corner to drive it away. Bringing her impossibly closer, I whisper beside her ear. “Come home with me, angel. Give me a chance to prove we were never temporary.”
“If I do, we’re not sleeping together.” While her tone is cautious, the same fire I fell for years ago still burns brightly.
“You can stay in a guest room if you want.” I pull back to admire her sparkling sapphire eyes that I’m instantly lost in.
“Okay, but no big declarations of love either.”
“I can’t promise that.” I take a moment to memorize every laugh line, every freckle slowly appearing through her makeup the longer we’re out here. “You need to be careful, love. You have theheart of one of the most powerful men in Washington in your hands.”
She lets out a deep sigh. “I think you mean Andrew’s hands.”
“You’ll never believe me, will you? I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always been a woman of action—words are worthless without the effort.” I take her hand and rub my thumb over her wedding ring. “I made promises I didn’t keep, and it’s about time I make good on them.”
“This isn’t the clarity I expected,” she chuckles, mostly to herself. “You expect me to trade one husband in for another? I’m not property. What next? You want me to move in, lose twenty pounds, and become some kind of Stepford wife?”
A flash of light illuminates the night sky, but I only glance at it briefly. Thunder roars two seconds later. Two miles. The intrusive thought seeps in: if this is how I go, it’ll be worth it having kissed her one last time.
“No, angel. I want you to fight the way you used to.”
“Fight? Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t fight. I bake sourdough now. Sourdough, Mick! I have a damn starter in my fridge that I made during quarantine, and it’s still active. I even named him—Chad. I was hoping to set him up for failure with that one, but he’s lived up to his name. I can’t keep a plant alive, but Chad endures. I have to feed him often because I stress bake when Andrew goes to bed. I bake three or four loaves a week. A week! That’s why we’re not having sex. I’m curvy as fuck from eating so much fucking bread.”
“Are you done venting about baking?”
“Yes,” she huffs, and I struggle to keep my composure.
“Maybe I should go back to your place tonight after Andrew wins Maryland. A few slices of toasted sourdough with a heaping portion of butter, and a sprinkle of flaky sea salt sounds like a perfect snack after I bury my face between your thighs.”
“Did you miss the part about how I now have sourdough thighs? I’m not the hot, sexy lobbyist I was a decade ago. Tonight I had a moment of weakness after some witchy woman told me to stand in the rain, but I can’t let you see me naked until I get a gym membership.”
I’m only following half of what she’s saying, and her eyes widen at my hard cock pressed against her. “I don’t give a fuck if you’re a size two or size twenty-two,” I growl. “Wanting you has nothing to do with your beautiful body. I’m in love with you, Evie. I have been for years. I’ve done a horrible job of showing it, but that ends tonight. If you dare to speak a single negative word about yourself in front of me again, I’ll ensure your arse is red with my handprints until you admit how beautiful you are.”
“Well, Mr. Gallagher, this is the part where I defy you, and I find out exactly how dangerous you are.” An unmistakable twinkle dances in her eyes. I’ve missed her spark. It’s been years since she’s looked at me this way and I’m tempted to throw her over my shoulder and run far away from here.
