Page 94 of Ruthless Lord
“I’m a man who mixes his appetites.”
“And I keep my kitchen clean.” She wags a fork at me, smiling sweetly. “I won’t have any of that dirty talk here, mister.”
“My wife is so strict.”
“Actually, I think my husband is even stricter.” She pretends to pout. “Imagine my surprise when it turns out hespanksfor a punishment.”
I let out a low chuckle. She grins back at me, eyes shining. I like this playful, teasing side of her. We fall into a comfortable conversation, bantering back and forth for a while as we eat, teasing and poking fun at each other. It’s light and easy, and it honestly feels good to talk to her like this.
There’s no pressure. No looming catastrophe, no murderers lurking upstairs (aside from me, of course), no rivals looking to take me down. It’s just me and my wife sharing a nice meal.
The normalcy disarms me. I think she relaxes into it as well. For a while, we’re just two people enjoying each other, and I didn’t even know how important that was to me until right this moment.
“That was nice,” she says as we sit out on the back patio together. The evening’s cool and the sun’s slowly sinking down behind the houses. “We should do that more often.”
“If you’re cooking, I’m there.”
“I was thinking we’d order in.”
“If you’re eating, I’m there.”
“Here’s to that.” We touch glasses, and she smiles at me, putting her feet in my lap. It’s so intimate and familiar. I rub them lightly, and she settles lower into her chair, squinting off at the backyard. “I have a plan I want to run by you, but I almost don’t want to ruin this by talking business.”
“Then don’t. There’s always time.”
Her face tenses. “I’m worried there’s not.”
“Tell me. Get it over with. So I can get you to finish that glass of wine before I take you up to bed.”
“Getting me drunk? You don’t even have to.”
“All the better.”
She sighs, wriggling slightly. “I want to set a trap.” I raise my eyes for her to elaborate, but she frowns and shakes her head. “You’re going to have to trust me. That’s the most important bit.”
I keep one hand on her feet and the other cradles my wine glass. “I can do that.”
“Are you sure? Even after everything that happened?”
I study her. I watch the curve of her lips, the wind moving through her hair, the way her eyes drift across the ground before coming back to me again. “I want more nights like this.”
“I do too.”
“That means I have to trust you. Even if you did betray me.”
“I know.” Her shoulders slump. “I want to make up for that.”
“And you are. A little at a time.”
“Then trust me just a bit more. I’ve been thinking about how my grandfather seems to know so much… and I think you need to sign up for another fight at the warehouse.”
My eyebrows raise in surprise. “I thought you wanted me to stop doing that.”
“I do, but maybe after we’ve fucked my family over.”
“If that’s what you want, I’d be happy to pummel a stranger’s face into human mush.”
“What a lovely image.” She pulls her feet away and leans forward. “I’m not sure you’re going to like what we have to do. But if I’m right, this is going to work.”
