Page 45 of Mistletoe Missus
“Right, right. I’m sorry.” The cab driver gulped.
I slammed on the brakes, tires squealed, and the man hit the back of my seat with a hard thud. I glanced back and my grin grew even wider. Lights out. Poor fella should’ve put on his damn seat belt. I’d leave him a hefty tip for his time off with an unwanted concussion. I grabbed some cash from my wallet and threw a good wad of one-hundred-dollar bills down onto the front seat. I left the nasty vehicle behind, but I hoped the company gave the driver an upgrade.
I headed into the mall, ready to comb the crowd full of shoppers, prepared to find the object of my unwanted affection and bring her to her knees. I searched for that piece of shit ex-boyfriend and would make him pay for interfering in my marriage. I’d give the guy credit—he had some balls. A nut sack I only hoped Tinsley would kick in until he cradled his broken balls like Mary held baby Jesus, and he’d weep in shame. But I highly doubted she’d do that because she was out to get to me, and we both knew it.
I scowled like Scrooge as I peered left and right, searching for my wife, and I was ready to bring all the Ghosts of Christmas’s past down on Beau Kingston’s ass. My eyes were laser beams, scanning every inch of the mall, but they could be anywhere by now. Lost in each other’s embrace when her arms belonged around me. Trapped in a kiss when her mouth should only lock on mine.
I was her husband and not some cheating prick who didn’t even give her a real shot at anything. He only wanted to bed her and have multiple women as his side pieces. I’d never stoop that low because I could see Tinsley’s true value. My wife was worth every penny, and she sparkled brighter than any star in the skybecause she was my angel. A true divine spirit who had grown on me and brightened my dark soul.
Fuck. Tinsley made me sentimental. I had to cut the crap.
Suddenly, my eyes locked on the target I had been obsessing over for the last fifteen minutes. Her strawberry hair shone in the light and looked so soft I wanted to reach out to inspect each strand for damage. I’d grab her locks, and she’d stare up at me in wide-eyed surprise. But I couldn’t do that.
Instead, I wanted to lurk and see how she played this out. No matter how much the beast inside of me needed to stalk right up to her and claim her, I had to contain the savage urge. I had to leave the monster forhim. Beau Kingston, the little fuck who thought he could get away with stealing what was rightfully mine.
I watched from a distance behind some goddamn fake tree as Beau handed her a cheap as fuck Styrofoam cup, and I wanted to grab it. To squeeze the white material until it collapsed and liquid spilled onto the floor. Then I’d grab the motherfucker by his jacket and ensure he had a terrible accident with his spine cracking in two, so he’d never walk again.
Wishful thinking, I knew that. A desperately dangerous man could dream and lead another man straight into a nightmare, but it was one Beau had fully brought upon himself. No one messed with Mitt Morgan and lived to screw with me again.
I ground my teeth when I saw Mr. Kingston reach for my wife, and all bets were off. I growled with rage as I took two steps but halted when Tinsley stepped back and rejected him. I stirred, half of me thankful she threw her hands up and gave him shit while the other half was ready to punch her ex’s face in.
Tinsley didn’t waste a beat and threw the offering at Beau while I couldn’t help but grin as the brown liquid dribbled down his stunned face. That’s my good girl. Even though she had tried to be bad, she couldn’t. Mrs. Morgan couldn’t go through withdealing with scum of the earth, and I didn’t blame her one bit. But I had brought her to her poor decision, and I’d ensure she never had to deal with him again.
Beau took four steps after Tinsley until I gripped the back of his jacket, and I forced him to turn around. The jackass was shorter than me as I towered over his puny ass and glared down at him. He peered up at me while his anger turned to fear. Mr. Kingston was scared, and I wanted to terrify him until he had the urge to pee.
“Did you touch my wife?” I grumbled with displeasure.
The asshole wouldn’t answer. Either too afraid to speak or a goddamn idiot. I shook Beau by his collar and brought my face down to his level. My stone-cold eyes bore into his petrified gaze until I heard him cuss.
“Nah... No...” Beau sputtered out.
“Stay the fuck away from Tinsley if you know what’s good for you,” I threatened, my hot breath against his face.
“You... You don’t own her,” Beau spoke, but he had a hard time getting the words out.
“Yes, I do. I own every damn inch of her. Tinsley’s weeping pussy all over my face is proof of that,” I admitted with the eyes of a crazy man and a smirk. “I’ll gladly prove my point all over again while I make you watch.”
I tossed Beau, and he stumbled backward, almost winding up on his ass. The message I delivered hopefully pierced its way through his bullheaded ego. But the fucker turned away from me and had the nerve to glance back.
Mr. Kingston had the audacity to utter one ultimate message. “Fuck you. Tinsley is mine. She belongs with me, and I won’t have some miserable asshole stop me.”
I should go after him. Stalk the dumbass who had tried my patience and wore it thin. Suffocate poor Beau until he finallytook the hint and stopped going after my wife. But I had much bigger intentions for him.
Next time, I wouldn’t be nice and would bring in my big guns. I’d set the target and shoot the asshole down. Beau Kingston would wish he had never been born.
TWENTY-FOUR
Operation Divorce
Tinsley
Iwasstillmarried.
There was no divorce, not even a pending one. Mitt didn’t draw up any paperwork, and there wasn’t a single dotted line for me to sign. I was stuck, trapped in this hell for convenience. My plan had failed, but I had let it.
After I put myself through torture and went to meet Beau, I couldn’t go through with any of it. The man made me sick to my stomach. I was nauseous beyond belief at the idea of him touching me, caressing me, as he used to when all I wanted to do was deck him in the face. He made me livid, a hot concoction boiling toward the rim and ready for trouble.
I freaked out.
