Page 47 of Devious Vows

Fuck, I don’t want to do this.

I open the door, eyes latching on Bev as she pulls her hair into a bun, fingers running through the dark waves as she gathers it onto the top of her head. My eyes fall to her tattoo and I take a shallow breath. She’s wearing a loose tee that just about swallows her up, short sleep shorts barely peeking out under the hem. I’ve seen her this way over a million times and I’d never get tired of it, never not be blown away at how fucking perfect she is.

She turns to face me, smiling as her arms drop from her head to cross under her chest. “Why are you just standing there? It’s weird.”

I don’t know how to start what I need to do, heart burning behind my ribs. Instead of answering her, I walk to her, my palm sliding along her jaw to cradle her head, fingers sinking into the soft silk of her hair. Her palms run up my torso in response, her fingers sliding up my stomach to rest over my chest, a palm flat over my pounding heart. I don’t think she realizes it, but it’s something she always does. It’s one of the many things she does that I love about her.

The way her lips part when I pull her close.

How kind she is despite being in a world surrounded by violence.

Three out of an infinity more things about her that drive me wild. Dropping my hands, I lift her up with my arms around her back, her small laugh tugging at the corner of my mouth. I sit on the couch and bring her with me, setting her down so she’s standing between my legs as I look up at her, my hands going back to her face. My thumbs brush along the freckles on her cheeks, throat trying to close as I force words out of my chest for the first time since walking in. “We need to talk.”

Her brows dip in confusion and I want to rub the worry away with my fingers. “What do you mean? About what? The party?”

I know my best way to work this is to get her angry, let her use it to guard her heart. She hasn’t said it—she may not even realize it yet—but I know she loves me. I know with the same certainty that I know she owns my fucking soul. I can feel it in the way she runs her fingertips along my skin, see it in the softening of her hazel eyes when she looks at me. She’s just as lost as I am but far too stubborn to admit it. And for once, I’m grateful for that, because she’s going to need that stubborn anger to get over what I’m about to do.

“About us.” I pause, my mouth closing on its own in an attempt to stop the words from coming out. I run my fingers over her jaw and down the sides of her neck, trailing them until I can grab one of her hands. I bring it to my mouth, pressing a kiss to her palm, and close my eyes for just a moment, savoring the few moments my lips are on her skin.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong with us?” Absolutely fucking nothing. There’s nothing wrong with us. But I can’t say that.

I let her hand fall from mine, looking up at her as she stands between my legs. “We can’t mess around anymore. It’s not fair to Viva.”

She scoffs, a small smile on her lips like she thinks I’m joking. I wish I was. “You’re not being serious right now?” My silence answers for me and she steps back, the loss of her touch like a knife to my chest.

I stand with her but don’t try to grab her as she crosses her arms, scowling at me. This is what I need, for her to get angry. “I’m getting married soon, Beverly. It’s time I stopped fucking around with you and get to know my future wife.”

Her head is shaking like she can’t believe the words coming out of my mouth. Her face scrunching in the way it always does when she’s mad. “What about earlier? Did you mean anything you said?” She swallows, the dampness staining her eyes like a noose around my neck, her pain slowly suffocating me.

Fuck, I want to grab her, tell her this was a mistake or I was joking orsomething, anything to take the look she’s giving me off her face. Instead, I dig myself deeper, “What did you expect to happen? Viva is going to be my wife and I need to start treating her like it.”

“You said I’m your heart.I’m your fucking heart.” She points at her chest when she says it, her fingers gripping the fabric of her shirt like her own heart hurts with her statement. She’s yelling but tears are sliding down her cheeks, each one that drips off her chin a crack in my heart.

I swallow, hands fisting at my sides to keep myself from reaching out to her. I know I’m crushing her and I hate myself for it. “You hated me for years, remember? Go back to that. It’s what’s best for the both of us.” My jaw clenches the second it comes out, chest burning at the words I’m forcing out.

“I can’t.I won’t.” She steps up to me, shaking her head no as that anger of hers is burning in the green swirls of her hazel eyes. “You know what I do hate, Remy? I hate when you kiss my palm, because it means you’re leaving. I hate that the smell of you doesn’t stay on my clothes after we hug. I hate how I lose myself in you because it makes me never want to come back to reality.” Her palm thumps against my chest, angry tears wetting her cheeks. “But I hate that I hated you for so long the most.”

I work my jaw, wanting nothing but to take those tears away, hold her until she permanently smells like me. But instead, I say nothing. Give her zero emotion after she just bled her heart out onto the floor in front of me. I know it’s the last straw for her, based on how she straightens her spine, palms wiping off her wet cheeks. She’s letting her anger take over, building up that wall around her heart just like I wanted her to.

“Get out.” She points at the door when I don’t immediately go, face looking away from me as I move to step around her.

It’s physically painful turning my back to her, my lungs on fire as I open the door to leave. I just stand there when it closes, mentally begging myself to keep moving forward and not go back in there for her. I force my legs to move, and walk without seeing until I’m back in my SUV.

I did what I had to do, but I don’t accept it.

I refuse to.

Beverly is my fucking heart, and I won’t let her go because of some stupid fucking contract. I grab my phone from the console, pressing a number on my speed dial.

“Pronto.”

“I have a job for you and Wolf.”

Chapter Twenty

Tomorrow is the big day and everyone can hardly wait.

Such a beautiful couple, they say. So happy together, they say.

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