Page 43 of Malicious Wedding

Ash

Ash Crowley.

AshCrowley.

AshlynCrowley.

No matter how many times I whisper it to myself, the name doesn’t make sense.

All my life I’ve been Ashlyn Locke. My father was Locke, my brother, my mother. To suddenly have a new name, with little to no notice at all, feels bizarre.

It feels wrong.

Except Carson seems like he’s floating on air. “Ash Crowley,” he says out loud for the hundredth time. Like he can read my mind. Even the voice in my head sounds like him, whispering that name. His eyes practically sparkle as Fitz takes us back into the city. “My wife, Ashlyn Crowley.”

“Would you stop that?” I glare at him, bumping his knee with my own. “Say it quietly if you can’t help yourself.”

“Was I talking out loud?” He seems surprised. “I apologize, Ashlyn Crowley, my wife.”

“You’re weirdly obsessed, you know that?”

“Better than you understand. It feels good knowing you bear my name now, like I’ve placed a claim on you.”

I roll my eyes. “What if I wanted to keep my maiden name?”

He hesitates. Some of his smile slips. “You don’t want to.”

“It wasn’t a part of the deal.”

“You’re my wife. You have to change your name.”

“I don’thaveto do anything. In fact, I don’t recall signing any paperwork back there about it.”

He shifts to the side, turning to look at me. “Don’t test me.” Some of his joy leaks away as he glares.

“I’m only saying. We might be married, but I’m pretty sure we have one of those fancy newfangled marriages where the lady retains her name and, you know, doesn’t become the property of her big, bad husband.”

His jaw works. “You were never going to be myproperty. If I wanted to own a toy, I’d buy one.”

My eyebrows quirk up. “You kind of bought me.”

He doesn’t like that. His hand shoots out, tangling into my hair, and I gasp softly. I’m reminded why I shouldn’t mess with this guy. His grip is firm, but he’s not pulling. Not yet anyway. “I know what you’re doing,” he whispers, coming closer.

My heart’s racing. “I’m only asserting my right to use whatever name I choose.”

“You’re working me up. You’re not happy you chose this situation, and you’re taking it out on me.” His lips graze my neck. I let out an absolutely mortifying groan, considering Fitz is like two feet away and can hear everything.

“I wouldn’t say I chose it. More like I was forced into it.”

“You were given the option. Nobody made you do anything.”

“I seem to recall a big, strong asshole throwing me over his shoulder.”

His grip tightens. “You’re fucking with me again.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so gullible.”

He chuckles as his tongue licks my jaw. “Nobody outside of this car would everdarecall me that, and yet you throw it around like it means nothing.”

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