Page 32 of Accepted Precedent
“No. Let’s try that again.”
She squirms on the counter, contemplating her correction. Smiling briefly, she tucks the levity away and squares her shoulders. “I cook most nights.”
“What’s your favorite?”
Her hidden grin slips. “Breakfast for dinner, or grilled cheese.” She eyes the ingredients I pulled out. “I have fresh bread for that.”
“Where?” As Evie attempts to hop off the counter, I stop her and growl, “No, I’ve got it.” While her eyes widen for a brief moment, her pupils shrink quickly as she points to the large pantry without looking away. “That’s my good fucking girl.” She blushes, but the light rose tinge dissipates from her cheeks before I return to her.
“It’s not my best loaf,” she rushes out, and I press my finger to her lips to silence her.
“You made it, so it’s likely the best fuckin’ bread I’ve had in my life. You haven’t had anything to eat all day. It’s about time you let someone take care of you.” Her face falls and she looks away—I’ll have none of it. “I fucked up, Evie. I’m sorry. As empty as those words may feel, I promise they’re true. You warned me that I need to win you over, earn your trust. That won’t happen in one night. But let me in, love. Give me a chance to show you I’ve never stopped loving you.”
Her gaze finally meets mine. “Love me? Mick, I thought we talked about this. No declarations. I’ve spent years married to my best friend when all I wanted was for you to finally say enough was enough. If I walked away years ago, my career would be non-existent. If I divorced amicably now, they would assume Andy cheated. I’m married to your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—Idon’t know what you are. As much as I’d love to play house, in what reality do I get…anything?” She doesn’t allow me to answer. “None. Zero. Zilch. Nada. I gave him my best years, when I could’ve been fighting for women’s reproductive rights, and all I have to show for it is a passport with his last name.”
“I feel like?—”
“I’m not done, Mick! I don’t care that I’m Evelyn Adams. It’s a name—a title. What I care about is that you waited until Andy’s seat was secure for another six years before you dared to rekindle whatever the fuck this is.” She hops off the counter and steps up to me, her voice softer as she admits, “I had a moment of weakness. There was a constituent I spoke to tonight who promised if I stood in the rain I’d have clarity—or some other witchy bullshit. I bought into it.”
“You sound like Nan,” I chuckle, but cough to clear my throat. “I’ll never be able to fix what I broke. Andrew thinks he’s to blame, but it’s me; I allowed this to go on for too fuckin’ long. I love you Evie. I always have. I don’t care if I spend the night on the sofa, or if you let me into your bed—I’m yours and always have been. For now, I’m going to make sure my girl is fed, has taken a proper shower, and only then will I let you drift off to sleep.”
“Damn it, Mick! How am I supposed to follow that?”
“You don’t.” I tuck a few rogue strands of her fiery red hair behind her ear, and admit, “You’re never supposed to question Daddy, angel.”
Chapter 17
Evelyn
Mickey lifts me back onto the counter with ease, then steps away and shrugs off his jacket, draping it over one of the island counter seats. His button-up shirt stretches against his broad chest, but I can’t properly appreciate his toned physique—my eyes are glued to his forearms as he rolls up his sleeves.
Rummaging through my drawers, he stumbles upon my cutting boards. I scoot back farther onto the counter and sit cross-legged, grateful for wearing pants and not a dress today.
“My serrated knives are in the third drawer on the left. There’s also my bow knife in there too,” I offer, and he takes out the wooden bread cutter. “Yep, that’s the one.”
He slices through the bread with precision, then retrieves the butter bell from the opposite counter. “Did you make this too?” I draw my lips into my mouth and nod once. “Starting tomorrow, you’ll have a full staff to take care of your home.”
“What?” I squeak and attempt to slide off the counter.
Mick steps between my legs, pinning me with a furious gaze. “I thought I told you not to move.”
“I don’t need a chef, or a maid, or any other person to take care of the house. It’s only Andrew and me here, and you know what’s neat freak he is. If I had someone here to do laundry or cook dinner, I’d have nothing to do all day. Andy needed an educated housewife, so that’s what I became.”
“You’re so much more than that,” he snaps, making my stomach plummet.
For years, I’ve put my dreams and desires on the back burner. With Andy securing Maryland for a second term, my hope is I’ll return to my old life in the next few years. But no matter what happens with Andrew, there’s no chance that I’ll be with Mick.
“Mistakes were made.” He grips my ass, pulling me closer. “You never should’ve married Andrew.”
“Let me guess, I should’ve married you instead?” I tease, even if every fiber of my being wants him to say yes.
“Whose ring is on your finger, angel?” he counters, and I rub the band with my thumb. “I’ve thought a lot about this, and after you divorce Andrew, that ring I gave you is staying. On my grandad’s grave, you’ll be my wife one day.”
I swallow thickly, then blow out a shaky breath. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“It’s more than a promise. But what I can guarantee is you’re going to keep your pretty arse on this counter until I’m done making you a bite to eat, then you’re going to let me take care of you the way I should’ve every single day since the night I claimed you as mine.”
Mick steps back and I immediately miss him in my space. I can’t help asking, “What about Andrew?”
