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A wedding Opal and I are a part of as well. Giddiness fills my belly, remembering the moment Luna hired me to make her bridal bouquet and flower arrangements.
Weeks ago, on the day I hired Opal, I blabbered about my wedding venture to her. Luna fired her flower vendor that same moment and hired me on the spot.
She chose my shop. Mine.
Not yours.
A twinge of sadness ruins what little joy I had. Unless a miracle happens, I won’t have a shop in two weeks.
Carter and Killian might let me bring my plants and flowers to their place to keep them alive. They would, I just know it. But I can’t ask them about that.
I’m already asking too much. Their affection. Their home.
Asking them to live with the dirt and Opal and me messing up their perfect home is out of the question.
My smile falters, lead weighing heavy on my soul. I look down at the hotel concierge uniform they gave me. Better focus on the beautiful black pencil skirt. On the perfect fit of the black dress shirt.
Anything but this.
“What is it, A?” Carter’s fingers find mine, prying them from my lap. Holding my hand over the console. Rubbing his thumb over my palm. “Talk to me.”
I groan. I left the hotel smiling. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
“Nothing.” Lying to Carter pains me, so I turn my head away toward the passenger window. Toward the outside world.
Concrete and glass. People yapping on their phones. Cars and yellow cabs.
Life goes on. And so will mine.
I shake my head, a new sense of determination flowing through me. I’m far better now than I was when I talked to my parents this morning. My men filled the hollow spaces in my heart, and I’m ready to fight. Or at least shake off this crappy feeling.
“You have us.” He brings my hand to his lips, biting me when I fail to answer. “You’re not alone. You won’t ever be. If I have to carve another million Os into your skin so you’ll remember, I will. I’ll mark every inch of your skin with Cyclone. Killian might join the fun.”
“I was thinking.” A smile that isn’t so forced anymore creeps up my lips. “My parents won’t win. They don’t love me? Fucking fine. I don’t love them right back.”
“That’s my girl.” Carter’s teeth bite into me a second time. “They don’t deserve your love. Never have. Never will. You’re special. One of a fucking kind. They’re the assholes who are too dumb to see it.”
“Fuck, when you say stuff like that”—my eyes lower to his erection, my thighs clenching—“all I want to do is go drag Killian back home and never leave.”
Oh, shit. Home. I called their place our home.
Carter doesn’t blink. Totally comfortable.
“And I thought I was insatiable.” His short laugh reaches straight to my pussy. “At this rate, we’ll have to add another man just to keep you satisfied.”
“Why?” I don’t stop before I spit out what’s on my mind. I rarely do. “So there’ll be three of you to beat up anyone who looks at me the wrong way?”
Carter slams the brakes at a red light. Hard. Too hard. My head flies forward.
“Today was a one-off.” He levels me with his serious gaze. Any trace of humor has been wiped off his face. “Beating up members isn’t something we do.”
My question was supposed to be a tease. But now that Carter’s avoiding it, I’m curious. My earlier suspicions resurface, bubbling and demanding answers.
“Why?”
“They’re rich, entitled pricks that like to mingle in our hotel. Most of them are just that. Smug. Not idiots.” He presses the gas, giving the road his undivided attention. “They know better than to test us. Christopher slipped. I wish I could fucking kill him for how he treated you.”
“You’d do that for me?” The car rumbles as we descend into the parking garage of his apartment building. My heaved, excited breaths are louder. “Kill someone?”
