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“What on earth are you doing lying out in the sand at this time of night?” he grumbles, shifting me in his arms and striding forward. “I almost didn’t see you with just your arms and head poking out.”
“Sigh. I’m just swooning at the fact that you’re carrying me,” I manage to say. Although, I’m not sure it comes out quite like I imagine. I’m finding words quite difficult at the moment. Stupid English. Why does it have to be so hard?
“You could have been murdered. Could have been swept away by the tide. And you didn’t even answer my calls.”
He seems grumpy, grumpier than normal, so I nuzzle into his neck and kiss my way across his skin.
“Doesn’t matter. You never answer my calls either. Karma.”
Matthew huffs out a laugh and then shifts me again in his arms. It can’t be easy, carrying me, but he does it. Those strong arms cradling me. Fuck, he’s so sexy. I stood zero chance when I first met him. I should have known this would be the outcome.
“I would have been so pissed if you’d gone missing. If I never saw you again.”
I don’t even respond, too busy biting my way across his neck.
“Next time, just come home,” he says.
“You were with meanie Mitch.”
“Yeah, well, he’s gone now.”
“Hmph, good. He’s ruining my happy place.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Matthew asks as his feet finally hit the pavement. I hope it takes him ages to get home. I just want to stay like this, cradled in his arms.
“It means that you were ashamed of me, so you sent me away.”
The thought of it has my eyes watering and my nose clogging. Damnable drinks. I don’t want to be this vulnerable, and here I am blubbering.
“Fuck no. That’s not what happened. What happened is I was trying to protect you. If Mitch came after you, I couldn’t protect you. That’s all. I just wanted you safe.”
I sigh and sniffle, hating that he is being so rational. I want a reason to feel sorry for myself. He’s sure not making it easy. Damn stupid man.
“Fine, well, don’t ever send me away again.”
“I won’t. I promise. Mitch is happy now that he’s seen where I live, but we can talk about it more later, when you’re not so fucking drunk.”
“I’m not drunk. I’m inebriated.”
“Same thing,” he says with a laugh. I hear the telltale sound of the doorman greeting us and then Matthew sets me down on my feet. Stupid floor. I hate it. I don’t want to use my legs, they’re not working anyways.
“Pick me back up, husband,” I grumble as I sag into him. “This instant. I can’t fucking walk after being carried like a princess like that. My legs are holding a revolt.”
Matthew grumbles and then suddenly freezes, his hands clenching into fists against my lower back.
Through swimming eyes, I catch sight of someone in the distance, someone very much like Matthew, but also so different. Bigger, more ominous.
“Fuck. Mitch is here,” Matthew says roughly.
Well, this can’t be good.
“I can take him,” I slur as I try to find my footing but end up stumbling into Matthew once more. He rights me, not letting me fall, and I’m so thankful that without thinking, I press a kiss to his jaw. It’s only when he pulls away from me, instead of leaning in like he usually does, that I realize my mistake.
Mitch must have seen that.
There’s no way he didn’t.
“What the hell is this?” an unfamiliar voice says, low and slightly demeaning.
