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“No. We’re engaged. I want to know the man I’m marrying.”
“You already know me. You know me better than anyone else ever has. You got my heart. Ain’t nobody ever had that.”
I could see her eyes fill with tears. “You’ve never been in love before? Ever?”
“Never wanted to be in love before, but I swear when I first got that assignment and looked at your picture, I fell in love with you. I…I don’t especially like killing women. I always go overboard researching them to make sure they deserve it. But you…I think I knew you didn’t deserve it out the gate—before the research. You’re the love of my life.”
She climbed in my lap, straddling me as she gently kissed me. “You’re the love of all my lives—past, present, and future. The way you protect me, the way you look at me, the way you touch me, the way you fuck me…I know I’ll never find another you. I don’t want another you.”
I grabbed the back of her head, kissing her long and deep and hard, restricting my own breathing, my fucking heart racing toward a crash.
“Baby,” I said against her mouth once our kiss ended.
“Yes?” she panted.
“You think you slick, but I ain’t fucking you. I’ll eat your pussy, finger you, suck your asshole, but I am not fucking you. Might poke my kid in the head.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous!”
“We getting married tomorrow,” I said, watching as a frown formed on her pretty face.
“We are? Why tomorrow?” Her voice had lifted a couple octaves.
I shrugged. “Don’t wanna wait.”
“Okay…where?”
“Here.”
“I’m good with that, but you know what? We gotta have sex afterwards, though, to consummate the marriage.”
I grinned. “You really want some dick, don’t you?”
“Hell yeah.”
24
Ray had crazy connections, and it seemed he could convince anyone to provide their services in his home. Or maybe it was his money that was persuasive.
The next morning, a minister arrived at our doorstep, allowed in the gate by Cato who manned it from inside the crazy, high tech safe room while Ray prepared for our impromptu nuptials. Reverend Dr. Kerry Smith was a tall, lean, middle-aged man who arrived in a burgundy robe, a thick Bible in hand. He seemed friendly enough, soft-spoken, and he smelled divine. I wondered how much my killer man was paying him.
“I can’t believe you’re the first to get married,” Umber said as she sat in our bedroom watching Memphis do my hair. “Hell, I can’t believe we all made it to forty without being married.”
“Girl, I thought I’d be here before now, but that’s what happens when you think Mr. Wrong is Mr. Right,” I replied.
“Your tomboy ass ain’t getting sentimental are you, Umber? You getting ready to settle down with a lumberjack or something? Or are you planning to return to the grid?” Memphis questioned her.
“I love my life in the woods. Clean, fresh air, nature, solitude, healthy food—no chemicals and stuff. Plus, I get to kick it with my best friend and protector, Tyra Banks!” Umber expressed.
“I can’t believe you named your dog Tyra Banks,” I said.
“What was I supposed to name her then?” Umber asked, her voice bearing genuine confusion.
“I don’t know, Spot, Doggy, something…canine,” I suggested.
“Uh…no,” she responded. “Anyway, like I was saying…I love my life. But I can admit I’d like to share it with someone.”
“Well, I wouldn’t,” Memphis contributed.
