Page 92 of Roan

Her cheeks turn pink, her eyes bright. “I can’t believe we have our bags now. It’s like we’re a real couple.”

I grin. “You know what would make it even better?”

“God, you’re relentless.”

“I’m just saying. To make it official, we should be living together.”

“I’ll think about it.” She twists on her heels and leaves me standing there.

I look over at Camden, who’s grinning. “She’s so stubborn.”

He laughs it off and follows me outside yelling, “Shotgun!” before we reach the cars. He ends up riding with Tiller, Amberly, and River, which leaves Ophelia and me in my ’67 Nova I haven’t driven in years.

Ophelia slides into the seat next to me, her smile instant. “I remember the last time I rode in this….” Her voice trails off suggestively.

My focus isn’t on the car; it’s on her and the memories of Bush’s “Comedown” and my mouth on her pussy most of her senior prom. Twisting the key in the ignition, the corners of my mouth kick up. “We could be late.”

She pushes my hand away that finds her thigh. “No. We don’t want to stress Scarlet out even more. We have the rehearsal dinner tonight.”

“The food better at least be good.” Groaning, I shift the car into gear and ease out of the driveway behind Willa and Ricky’s SUV.

“My mom’s catering it.”

“I think I can handle that.”

We’re just past the gate when Ophelia glances over at me. “What do you think of the prenup?”

I raise an eyebrow and glance over at her, my arm across the back of the seat. “You mean if I agree with it?” I’ve found that asking a question with a question with women can sometimes get you out of being backed into a corner. Like now. This feels like a trap.

She tucks her cell phone in her purse on the floorboard. “Well, yeah. If they don’t have one and let’s say they get a divorce, Scarlet gets half of everything. Even S3.”

Believe it or not, Shade has done his research into it. Immediately he decided against it. “It wasn’t just a rash decision he made. He thought about it for a while, but it’s Scarlet. That’d be like me signing one with you.” And then I look over at her, brushing the back of my hand over her cheek.

She blinks twice, swallows once, and then clears her throat. “From a legal standpoint, with you guys owning equal shares of S3, and the house, you wouldn’t be able to sell the company, the house, or make business decisions without her consent. I just wonder if he knows that.”

“He’s not stupid, honey,” I point out, my eyes moving from the road to hers. “Tiller, yeah, he’s a fucking idiot, but Shade? No. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and I don’t blame him. Northwest wouldn’t fuck him over like that.”

Her eyes drop to her hands where she’s fidgeting with the hem of her dress. “I would understand if you wanted one, you know, if we were to, uh, like get married someday.” Do you notice the way she’s stuttering over the words and the way she shrugs like six times? It’s like she has a twitch or something. Or incredibly nervous. Both I find adorable because her vulnerability comes through and it reminds me of that little girl I once knew. The one that any time my eyes happened to land on hers, I enticed a reaction.

I tug on her earlobe with my finger. “You gotta move in with me before you can marry me. It’s a rule.”

Her eyes shoot to mine, a smirk forming. She shakes her head. “You’re relentless.”

“You shouldn’t expect anything less.”

It’s quiet for a couple of minutes when I move my hand from the seat to her thigh. “You know I would never make you sign one of those.”

She smiles and looks over at me but doesn’t say anything.

“I’m serious. I wouldn’t.”

Unbuckling, she scoots over to sit beside me, her head on my shoulder. “I know. That’s why I love you, but I’d probably make you sign one for my own peace of mind.”

Brushing my lips over her temple, the throaty hum of the engine fills the space between us. I’m briefly distracted by the way the big block jiggles her tits. Biting at the straps of her dress, I growl, “And I’d set it on fire.”

On Halloween, just three months into their short engagement, we find ourselves at the Carondelet House fussing over the bride.

Do you see that girl dressed in all black? The one with curly blonde hair that slightly resembles a light-haired version of Maleficent without the horns? That’s the bride-to-be. Her cheeks are red, hair’s frizzy, and smoky eyeshadow’s smeared.

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