Page 88 of Attached At Heart
He smiled politely. “Anything else I can get for you?”
“I don’t think so,” I said, forcing a smile. “But can you recommend a good place for an after-dinner drink, maybe somewhere with a dance floor?”
“Of course.” His eyes lit up, clearly eager for the opportunity to provide a recommendation. “I can tell you my personal favorite, but it’s the heart of the red-light district. If you’re okay with something a little more…free-spirited, yeah?” He tilted his chin toward Delaney, a tiny, knowing smirk playing on his lips. “They will love her there. She won’t have to pay for a single drink.”
“I’ll be paying for all my wife’s drinks.” I narrowed my eyes but pulled out my phone anyway so I could look up his recommendation, glancing sideways at Delaney while doing so. Her hands had been in her lap, but she pulled her left one out at the insinuation that she wasn’t taken, resting her chin in her palm so the waiter could have a good look at her wedding ring, glittering against the blush on her cheeks. The man gave a little brow raise with a nod and a wink to say he got the message and then turned to me to spell out the name of the bar.
A few minutes later, we were out the door.
Amsterdam glittered with nightlife. The streets were packed with people out and about, enjoying the crisp spring evening. A mix of languages swirled through the air, giving me an appreciation for this experience. But mostly, I was thankful that I got to hold Delaney’s hand as we crossed a tulip-lined bridge, bikes locked to the railing every few steps and the canal flowing beneath us.
The red-light district surprised me…at first. It wasn’t immediately obvious when we entered the area like I assumedit would be. Cute restaurants and bars still lined the streets; the only difference was that included among them were clearly X-rated establishments. But then, following the directions my phone fed me, we turned down a street that was most definitely the heart of the district, with windows lining the alley and people in those windows who werenotwearing a whole lot of clothes, and I found myself staring at my feet as we walked.
Delaney giggled—at my reaction, I suspected, and I shook my head, resisting the urge to lean down and let her know there was only one woman in this whole city, the whole world, I wanted to see dressed like that. Or not dressed at all. But instead, I simply gripped her hand tighter until we popped out onto another street to find the bar the waiter had recommended. I gave it a once-over before glancing at Delaney with uncertainty.
“I can’t quite tell if this is just a bar or a sex club, Lane. Or something in between.”
She considered the dark-painted entry of the building. “I’ve never been somewhere like that before.”
“Do you want to check it out?”
“Can’t deny I’m a little curious.” She shrugged, her eyes still on the door. “They’re certainly playing good music. Dancing music.” Her body started to sway and bounce adorably, and I bit down on a smile.
“Okay,” I said, nodding in acknowledgment of the thrumming beat coming from the bar. “We can check it out. And if you want to leave, we’ll leave. Just squeeze my hand twice if it’s too loud to talk.”
“Sounds good,” Delaney agreed before trying to pull me toward the door, but I tugged her back. A little too hard, apparently, because she gasped as she flew back into my arms. And then gasped again when I spun her around and pinned her against the canal railing, wanting—no, needing—to make something clear to her before she escaped to follow the music.
“Hey, Lane?” I murmured, dropping one hand to grip the railing and the other to curve around her back so she wouldn’t fall into the water.
“Hm?” She blinked up at me with those big, blue eyes. They shone with a mix of excitement and wonder, like she liked the idea that she didn’t know where the night would lead.
“Remember when you wanted to know if I would ask for your number if I saw you in this dress?” I dragged my gaze over her, making it clear once again how I felt about it.
“I remember,” she whispered.
“And you remember how I answered?”
“I remember that, too.”
“If we go in there, that’s going to be me,” I said, wanting badly to set things straight. “Unless you explicitly tell me to back off, I’m not letting you out of my goddamn sight. Iwillchase other guys off and be stuck to your side like glue, okay? Because there’s no way in fucking hell I’m going to let anyone else touch my wife.”
“Blake…” she breathed, her chest once again rising and falling with a quickness that caught my attention. And fuck me for being tempted to look and failing not to. Because with the way we were positioned and how her leather jacket hung open, her cleavage was practically right in my face, and all it did was remind me of the other morning when she was pressed against me, skin to skin.
“You don’t—” She sucked in abruptly when her voice pulled my gaze back to her face, and she must have seen the hunger in my eyes. “You don’t have to protect me like I’m your real wife, Blake,” she finished, but it was the weakest sentence I’d ever heard fall from her lips. “That’s not your responsibility.”
I stepped in, locking her against the railing with my hips. “First of all, Delaney London, youaremy real wife. And youaremy responsibility. I can’t even begin to imagine a scenario whereI would let anything happen to you. Absolutelyno onewill be touching you without your permission. Understood?”
Her breath hitched, but she nodded slowly, indicating she understood. Her eyes were glazed, coated with something I thought I recognized. She didn’t speak for a long moment, and a sinking feeling set in, one that had me worrying that I’d taken it a step too far, too fast. But I couldn’t regret saying words that were fucking true.
“You’re the only person who has permission to touch me, Blake,” she finally rasped, and my pulse took off like a bullet train, unstoppable.
“Then you want to go in?” I asked, pulling back and holding out my hand.
She took it with a firm nod, and we followed the sound of the bass, pumping almost as loudly as our hearts.
CHAPTER TWENTY
blake
