“Said he’d rather die than try chemo. ‘Let nature take its course. Been smoking cigars since I could walk. Time to pay the piper.’ The bastard and his dumbass code.”
I chuckle. “You’re a lot like him, you know.”
He turns his head to me with eyes narrowed, but I don’t back down.
“You dove into your task of protecting me without a second thought. Sure, you grunted and groaned along the way, but we’re nearing a month together, and I know—”
His brow furrows. “You know what?”
I choke back the words.
“Say it, Capri.”
“I know you care.”
He shakes his head and plops on the couch with his hands clasped behind his head. “That picture looks so fucking out of place.”
“I think it looks nice.” I walk over to it like I’m presenting on QVC, then move to the other side. “And right here, we can hang our lovely wedding pic.”
He reluctantly laughs at that, making me fight to hold back my smile. It’s true, our forced wedding was absolutely ridiculous. At least we can joke about it.
When my stupidity fails to keep him smiling, I tiptoe toward him and grab his big hand.
“What now?” He scoffs, refusing to budge from the couch.
“Come. Sleep next to me tonight.”
His eyes widen for a fraction of a second, before he regains himself.
“No.That doesn’t mean you get to stick it in,Daddy. I just think you could use some company.”
This is a big step for me. In the past, I hated sleeping next to my boyfriends, because, well, I knew they weren’t going tolast. I wouldn’t bet on us either, especially if he thinks I’m going to be stripping for the rest of my youth, but still… I like him.
“C’mon, you big oaf. My coupon expires in five second—oh.”
He pushes to his feet and pulls me close. He’s looking down at me, and for the first time, his eyes aren’t scanning my lips. It does all sorts of things to my insides.Um?If he let go, I might melt into a puddle on the floor.
When he leans down to kiss me, it’s not supercharged with his normal sexual energy. It’s a nice surprise. There’s something else there I’ve never really felt before. A gentleness, perhaps?
“C’mon, before the sun comes up.” He takes my hand and leads me up the stairs.
It feels so weird to not have him keeping watch on his couch, like I’m doing something taboo by letting my freakin’husbandsleep in the bed next to me. Maybe stripping has humbled my prude ass a bit.
No, Capri! You’re allowed to have boundaries, even when a murdering mafia family is after you.
When I crawl into bed and turn on my side to give him room, a gentle warmth exudes from my heart. Then his big arm drapes over mine – it’stoo much warmth.
“Oh my God,off!You’re like a furnace.”
“The fuck did you expect? I’m not a corpse.”
We play around with each other – slapping and pinching – until we get comfortable. Then I’m just laying there, wide awake now that I have a big stud in my bed. I’m not horny or anything, but I am shocked.
“You’re not grossed out that I’m dancing for other men all night?” I test.
“Quite the opposite, actually. You make a damn fine stripper.”
I huff loudly. That isnotthe answer I wanted to hear. “You know, I’m not going to be able to duck away from giving dances forever. Some of the women are starting to think I’m not cut out for this gig.”