Page 18 of Married to the Beasts
Bron chuckles. “Screamed it a couple of times, actually.I’m Mrs. Curran!”
“I did? Oh god, I don’t remember doing that.”
“I liked it,” Conal says, “and I’d really like you to be Mrs. Hazel Curran, but if that’s not your style, I get it.”
“Fuck the patriarchy!” Rafe pumps a fist in the air, and I can’t tell if he’s being sincere or ironic.
“I’d be happy to take your name. I guess I’m still coming out of the fog from last night.”
“No more memories coming back?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Not really.”
He brushes hair back from my cheek and tucks a couple of strands behind my ear. “And how are you feeling?”
“I feel pretty good, actually.” I think there’s been adrenaline pumping through me ever since I woke up this morning, and it’s probably helping me recover from the hangover more quickly than I otherwise would have.
“I wish we could whisk you off on the honeymoon you deserve,” Conal says, “but unfortunately we have work scheduled. Other people are involved, and postponing it would cause problems.”
“That’s okay.”
“I’m still in the mood to celebrate, though. Are you up for going out tonight?”
“I’m okay with whatever you want to do.” I swear a wicked look flashes in Conal’s eyes when I say this, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared.
At Conal’s suggestion, we take a short nap before we get ready for our night out. I’m sure there’s no way I’ll be able to fall asleep when he lies down next to me on the bed and puts his arm around me, but I must be more tired than I realize, because the next thing I know, he’s waking me up by gently shaking my arm.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty, do you still want to go out tonight?” He rolls me onto my back and presses a kiss to my lips, and it’s a lovely way to wake up.
“Where are we going?” I ask when he pulls back. “What should I wear?”
“The sequined shirt would be good. I love how it clung to you in all the right places.” He slides a hand along my side to illustrate his point and triggers a gnawing sensation deep in my belly. But then he rolls away and climbs out of the bed, telling me he’s going to take a shower.
I follow him into the bathroom a few minutes later to freshen my hair and makeup, and when I catch sight of him in the mirror as he’s coming out of the shower, wrapping a towel low around his hips, water clinging to his bare chest, that gnawing sensation threatens to bore a hole right through me.
He had his hair tied up in a man-bun to keep it dry in the shower, and when he releases it and shakeshis head, I feel like I’m watching it all happen in slow motion.
I’ve never shared a bathroom with a man before, but Conal strides over to the sink next to me like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I try to act normal and carry on with what I’m doing, but I sneak repeated glances as he moisturizes his face and combs his hair.
“I’ll bring your new clothes in,” he tells me when he’s finished at the sink, and after he does, he leaves me alone to get dressed.
When I’m ready, I find all three Curran brothers waiting for me in the living room, and it would be impossible to say which of them looks best. Each man is handsome, and together they’re devastatingly potent, so much so that I lose my words for a moment when Bron asks if I’m ready to go.
Instead, I nod as my eyes continue to drink in all the leather, denim and dark good looks in front of me.
“You look beautiful,” Bron says, as the other men communicate the same message with their eyes.
I look down at my outfit. “Your brothers have great taste in clothing.”
“And in women.” He separates from the others and steps forward to take my hand and lead me to the door. It’s a simple gesture, but it feels loaded with meaning and intention.They’re going to share me.
I worry that I’m going to be in my head all evening, overthinking and speculating about what my new, unconventional marriage will mean, but the men take me down to the casino, where we play blackjack in a high rollers room, and I quickly become engaged in the game.
At first, I watch them play, but when Rafe hears me whisper the move I’d make when Bron is dealt an eighteen, he suggests I join in on the next round.
I’m nervous at the start, especially since it’s not my money I’m playing with, and I cringe when I bust and lose, but Rafe reassures me, resting his hand on my lower back. It’s not long before I become completely absorbed in the game, and intuitively, I seem to have a sense of what cards might come up next.
Pretty soon, the guys are all watching me play more than they’re focusing on their own cards, and they cheer loudly when I win a tough hand. I’m closest to Rafe, and I swear he’s about to give me a celebratory kiss, but he pulls back at the last minute, instead raising his knuckles for a fistbump, though his eyes are on my mouth the whole time.
