Page 22 of Devious Vows

I’m currently two and a half beers deep, dancing with Delaney in the crowded living room slash dance floor. Throwing back the rest of my beer, I lean close to Laney, “I’m going to get another drink, I’ll be back!”

She nods, “I’ll be here.”

Lightly pushing through the throng of people, I make my way to the kitchen, humming along to the song currently playing throughout the speakers. The kitchen is as busy as everywhere else, possibly busier, being the hub for the drinks. Hearing my phone ding I pull it out of my pocket, eyes down. My shoulder bumps into someone, sending their drink all over floor and my phone skidding along the tile.

I gasp, an apology ready to slip from my lips, “I’m so—”

“Fuck! Watch where the fuck you’re going.” Erin Puglisi scowls at me, tossing his now empty cup aggressively in the trash can while I hurriedly grab a random hand towel from off the counter to help sop up the mess from the floor. “I just got that fucking drink too.”

I look up, the dirty towel rung between my fingers, “I can get you anoth—”

“Stand up, Beverly.”

Even if that voice hadn’t haunted every single one of my dreams since I was twelve, I’d know exactly who spoke based on the look on Erin’s face alone. That and everyone else in the kitchen has practically gone silent, a small circle of space created around us where there was almost none before. Pushing up off of the floor I do as I was instructed, my gaze finding a scowling Remy behind me.

His hand snatches the soggy towel from my hand, smacking it straight into Erin’s chest. He tries and fails to catch it and it slaps back onto the floor, a dirty wet spot staining the front of his shirt. “I know you weren’t making my future wife clean up your mess, were you, Puglisi?”

Erin’s mouth gapes like a fish, knowing damn well he can’t lie but undoubtedly scared to tell Remy yes. “No. I mean… she bumped into me and—”

Remy steps around me, grabbing Erin by the front of his shirt, his arms rising in a placating manner near his face. Spotting my phone I hurry and grab it while they’re both distracted, Remy murmuring in Italian that I can’t make out.

Damn.

My finger traces over a large crack in the screen, gaze flicking up with Remy’s low, “What’s that?”

He holds his hand out for the phone and I give it to him. “My phone fell when I bumped into Erin.”

Erin’s knees hit the floor in the next instant, his face scrunched to bite back the groan he probably wanted to let out. “Apologize.”

Erin’s eyes flick to the people around us before landing on me, anger burning beneath his fear. “I’m sorry.”

Remy’s booted foot lands in the middle of his back, shoving Erin down so he’s now on his hands and knees on the sticky floor. “Louder, Puglisi, she can’t hear you.”

“I’m sorry, Beverly.”

There’s a deafening silence after Erin’s loud apology, all eyes on the three of us. My heart pounds as I make eye contact with Remy, a dark brow arched, waiting to hear my reply. “It’s okay.” I swallow when Remy doesn’t let him up yet, meeting Erin’s gaze I add, “Apology accepted.”

It’s enough to appease Remy, but only barely. He removes his boot from Erin’s back, only to toss my phone onto the floor in front of where he still kneels.“La mia futura moglie è troppo gentile.” My wife-to-be is too nice.Erin’s face turns from the phone to Remy as he keeps talking, “You’ll replace her phone by tomorrow.”

Erin nods, snatching the broken phone up off the floor and tucking it into his pocket. “She’ll have it by morning.” He scrambles up, avoiding eye contact with either of us as he hurries from the kitchen.

Not even a second later and everyone is back to talking, sensing that Remy’s rampage is over. I swallow as he steps up to me, his palm cupping the back of my head, fingers lightly digging into my hair to make me look up at him. His breath holds a hint of liquor, warm puffs blowing along my lips.

He’s always done that, but it’s been a lot more lately.

Always in my space and unafraid to touch me without permission. It’s one of the few things I think I like the most about him.

Not that I’d ever tell him that.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I finally say, breaking the silence between us.

He hums, honey gaze on my lips. “I did. Everyone knows you’re too kind to speak up, even when you should. You could have easily kicked his ass yet you took the high road, as you usually do.”

My heart thumps, his thumb finding my tattoo. “I always stand up to you. Shouldn’t that count for something?”

The chuckle rumbling from his chest tugs at the corner of my lips. “You’re the only person who will stand up to me, yet won’t to anyone else.” His nose brushes mine, his fingers sinking into my hair to give my head a light shake.“Non ti capisco, cuore mio.” I don’t understand you, my heart.

My heart.

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