Page 112 of The Worst Pucking Deal

There’s a moment of silence as Sawyer absorbs his mother’s words, his gaze flickering between her and me. I can sense the conflict raging within him, torn between the pain of the past and the desire for forgiveness and reconciliation.

Finally, he lets out a heavy sigh, his features softening as he reaches across the table to grasp his mother’s hand. “I’m not ready to let it go, Mom,” he says quietly. “But I’m willing to try.”

“Thank you, son,” Clarissa sobs. Tears stream down her cheeks as she gets up and excuses herself to the bathroom. Luckily, we’re seated in a quiet area so she doesn’t have to walk by anyone but the servers on her way.

My heart is about ready to burst with pride for my husband. I know it might not seem like a big step, but I know a little about what it takes to heal, and him allowing himself to try is a big deal.

Turning, I cup his cheeks and look into his dark eyes. “I’m so proud of you,” I say.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I confirm, nodding my head.

“How proud are you, bunny?” A grin tugs up the corners of his mouth. “Enough to give me your panties?”

I roll my eyes. “You perv,” I say as I lightly slap his shoulder.

He just shrugs. “That’s not an answer.”

Tilting my head to the side, I study him, trying to work out if he’s okay or not. Sy internalizes most of his shit, and that’s okay. That’s his way and I respect that. Ah, fuck it. If he wants my panties, he can have them.

“Fine,” I agree. “But I’m not going out there until your mom comes back.”

There are many things I’ll do for my husband. But as it turns out, stripping out of my thong with his mom in the next stall isn’t one of them.

“Deal,” he rasps, his eyes hooded with the same desire that’s making his voice gravelly.

“I love you so much,” I whisper.

Sy fuses our lips together. His hands tangle in my hair, pulling back so he can deepen the kiss. I moan into his mouth, momentarily forgetting we’re in public. “And I love making you moan,” Sy rasps into my mouth. “Something I’ll do a lot tonight. You owe me, wife.”

Getting lost in the kiss, I decide not to point out it’s the other way around. If it wasn’t for me and my meddling, Sy and his mom still wouldn’t have talked. This is one of those moments in life where we all know it, but no one—myself included—will say it out loud. Rightfully so. This isn’t about me, even if I’m feeling smug as all hell.

When Clarissa returns to the table, I leave them alone and head to the bathroom. It doesn’t take me long to hoist my skirt up and push my thong down my legs. Then, since I’m already here, I check on the bandages covering my inner thighs. They’re still fine, and thanks to the painkillers I had earlier, I can’t really feel the cuts.

I take my time walking back to the table since Sy and Clarissa look deep in conversation. Rather than heading straight to them, I go to take care of the bill, and only then do I return.

“There you are,” Sy grins wickedly. “Are you ready to leave?”

“Yeah,” I confirm.

Sy takes my hand and pulls me to him. “Do you have something for me, sweet bunny?” he asks.

As discreetly as possible, I pull the rolled up thong from my pocket and hand it to him. He immediately closes his hand around the fabric. To my horror he doesn’t hide them straight away. Not before bringing them to his face and sniffing loudly.

“Sy!” I hiss, looking around to make sure no one is paying attention to us. Clarissa’s several paces in front of us, and everyone is caught up in their own stuff. “Put them away right now.” I both love and hate the smirk he shoots me as he tucks my used thong into his jeans pocket.

When we’re back in the car, Clarissa eagerly tells me that Sy’s going to show her around the arena. Her tone is filled with so much hope and happiness, I feel like I should excuse myself and let them have the time together alone.

“Why don’t you drop me off at home?” I suggest casually. “Gail wants to go over a few things, so I need to call her.”

“Oh, no. You should come with us,” Clarissa insists. “I want to spend more time with you, as well.”

One glance at my husband convinces me I’ve made the right decision. “Why don’t we all have breakfast together tomorrow?” I offer as a compromise. “That way I get to see you again before you leave.”

Clarissa doesn’t answer until we reach mine and Sy’s apartment. After kissing my husband, I get out of the car, and to my surprise, she gets out with me. “Thank you,” she says warmly as she pulls me into a hug. “Thank you for forcing him to see me.”

Feeling awkward about accepting the gratitude, I pull back. “It was all him,” I say with a smile. “If Sy didn’t want to see you there was nothing I could do. But he wanted it as much as you did.”

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