Page 58 of Honeyed

“You’re the only person I know who likes cleaning and putting stuff in its right place.” He laughs.

“It speaks to my soul.” I throw my coffee away in a bin on the canal.

“And you speak to mine.” He wraps his arms around me as we stop so he can nuzzle my hair.

A thrill runs through me at how open he is with affection these days. And it’s not like it’s fake; we’re not in front of anyone we have to prove our marriage to. That’s because … well, it’s not. Not anymore. Since our honeymoon and opening up about all the feelings we kept under wraps, everything between us has been smooth sailing. We’re a real married couple, going through the newlywed stages of never being able to keep our hands off each other.

“I thought we were getting a little break from sex. Didn’t you tell me your dick might fall off?” I tease him, sticking my chilly hands up the back of his sweatshirt to feel his bare skin.

Warren jumps a little from the contact but doesn’t let go. “It’s so sore from overuse, but somehow still doesn’t care with this view of your ass in leggings.”

“Horndog.” A laugh bubbles out of me.

“Says the woman who climbed me like a cat at three in the morning. God, you’re so fucking sexy.” He squeezes my ass as he burrows his face into my neck.

“Come on, I need to get some steps in. And you promised me pastries.”

We walk hand in hand for a little while, the birdsong the only sound between us.

“Don’t you have a meeting with the lawyer this week?” I ask, trying to figure out our schedule as it rotates and takes shape in my head.

Our schedule. It’s been a pipe dream that someday I’d tie myself to someone, hopefully him, and create a routine with a husband that turns into our life. But that’s what Warren and I have done.

He nods. “He wants to go over all of Arthur’s business holdings, many of which I still don’t even understand or know about. It’s a lot to take on, I just hope I’m doing him proud. A lot of the companies he created or was involved with, I think we’re just going to end up selling his shares or stepping down. I don’t have the time or the want to take them on. But the ones that were very important to him … well, I want to try to honor him. Take them on if I have the wherewithal and the knowledge.”

“He’d be so proud of you.” My heart warms at his dedication to preserving his adoptive father’s legacy.

Warren shrugs like he’s not so sure of that. “I hope so. I miss him more than I ever thought I would. He was a good man, and even if I resented he and Clara for some things, the truth is, they saved me. I could have ended up in a much worse environment, and they also let me become so close with your family, which also saved me. You all saved me. If I can do right by Arthur, I feel like I’m giving him what I can back, in a way.”

My thumb rubs over the back of his hand where we’re conjoined. “You are. Of course, he didn’t expect you to keep those businesses, I’m sure he was proud of you for the work you were doing at the restaurant. Plus, you’re starting your own business. I didn’t know Arthur that well, but I like to think he’d have been so interested in what we’re doing.”

Warren laughs. “You’re right, he would have asked me a million questions, and probably would have put on a hard hat himself.”

“I’d have loved to see that.” As much as we’re making new memories of our own, my heart bleeds for the life Warren should have gotten from his childhood.

“Speaking of things I’ll be going over with the lawyer, I didn’t tell you something that was stipulated in Arthur’s will.” He looks nervous, which causes nauseous butterflies to start flapping around in my stomach.

“Okay …” Part of me thinks perhaps I don’t want to hear this.

“The lawyer pointed out that his will stipulates we need to stay married for five years to inherit all of his estate. Obviously, the bulk of it was given to me once we got married, but if we want full control, we have to stay married for five years.”

Surprisingly, as I take in this information, not one emotion passes through my chest. Not upset that he didn’t tell me about this, not anxiety that maybe he doesn’t want to stay together that long, not fear that we won’t be able to make it. No, the only thing I feel is a quiet calmness out here on our river walk.

“Okay.” I shrug, giving him a cheeky little smirk.

Warren all but stops walking. “Okay? That’s all you have to say? Sheesh, Al, I thought you were going to kick my ass.”

“For forcing me to stay married to you for five years? Do you know how long I’ve tried pushing you to ask me on a date? Now I’ve got you for at least five years? Jackpot.” I wrap an arm around his hip and try to pull his large form to me.

He runs his hands through those dark locks, and I can’t stop staring at how gorgeous he is in this morning light. He’s gorgeous all the time, but there is something about a relaxed weekend-Warren that does it for me.

“I thought you were going to feel pressure or fear or … I don’t know, I didn’t expect this.”

“You know I’m pretty much the calmest person under pressure,” I point out.

He nods. “You’re like a diamond, you’re so tough to break. But this is a big … well, sticking point. You don’t feel any way about it?”

My husband looks at me like I’m the kind of woman to tell him I’m fine but really mean that I’ll give him the silent treatment for hours until he figures out what’s really wrong.

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