Page 30 of Blackbeard
Leigh choked, coughing until her face turned beet red. I chuckled at her discomfort.
“Now look who’s in the hot seat,” I mumbled under my breath.
“Shut up,” she shot back.
“I got pregnant on my wedding night,” Abuela declared, matter-of-fact. “It’s impossible to keep your hands to yourself when you’re in love.”
Leigh wheezed. I attempted to cover Claudia’s and Luisa’s ears with my palms.
“Jesus, Abuela, not in front of the kids.”
She waved me off.
“What? There’s nothing to be ashamed of! You’re handsome, she’s pretty. I’m almost ninety years old, Diego, I know howthese things work. And you’re the only grandchild who hasn’t given me great-grandbabies.”
I stifled a groan. From the corner of my eye, I saw Leigh smother a smile in her coffee.
“Abuela,” she called, and I bristled at her brazen familiarity. “Maybe you can twist Diego’s arm and get him to buy me a proper engagement ring. He skipped that part and jumped straight to the wedding.”
Abuela whirled and her face lit up.
Damn it.
I scowled at Leigh. She beamed and extended her hand, wiggling her bare ring finger.
“Don’t skimp on it either, husband. I want a big, expensive rock.”
Maintaining my distance in this marriage, protecting my family, would only continue to get more and more complicated if Leigh kept ingratiating herself into every aspect of my life like this.
Chapter eight
Leigh
After Blackbeard’s family left, a silence descended over the house, similar to the dull emptiness of a hangover after the buzz of alcohol had worn off. He stepped closer, towering over me in my chair.
“Did you really have to bring up the ring?” he demanded.
I shrugged, fanning my fingers out to study my nail polish.
“Well, I figured I should play along. Since you didn’t say anything about the fact that our marriage was an arrangement, and you were dragged into it against your will. If you want, I can call your grandmother and explain everything. Set the record straight. You don’t love me, I'm your wife in name only, and her hopes of seeing great-grandbabies from you one day will be dashed forever.”
Blackbeard huffed.
“Don’t do that.”
“Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t want that to happen. It’s not looking good for you, Diego. If you don’t make your wife happy,I could ruin everything. Rat you out to your family. Rat you out to my dad. You’re really between a rock and a hard place.”
He narrowed his eyes and gripped the back of my chair, swiveling it around until I faced him. Bracing one hand on the counter, he blocked me in with his body, leaning close.
I grinned at him, thrilled to be the center of his attention. I traced my fingers along his clavicle, dipping down to explore the unbuttoned expanse of his collar—warm, brown skin, dark chest hair, the teasing glimpse of tattoo ink.
“I remember what happened the last time you looked at me this way,” I said. “Guess that means we’re about to fuck in the kitchen.”
“What are you up to?” Blackbeard replied, his voice pitched low, searching my face.
I breathed a faint laugh.
“Isn’t it obvious? Trying to get you to bend me over the counter. When I push your buttons until you snap, it turns you on for some reason.”
