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“He cheated on you?” he asks again, as if he didn’t hear what I said the first time.
“Why do you keep asking me that?”
He shakes his head as if he’s trying to get the whole picture. “Did you give him sex?”
“Wow,” I snap, “I tell you that he cheated on me, and the first thing you ask is ‘did you give him sex’?”
He holds up his hand to stop me from ranting. “That isn’t what I meant. Obviously, him cheating on you is a dick move.”
“Thank you,” I say softly, “but the answer is, I guess I didn’t give him enough if he went out of his way to have sex with her four to six times a week.” The thought of that alone still stings me, especially since we had sex maybe twice a month. Looking back on it, this might be why.
He brings the cup to his mouth and takes a sip. “Sweetheart, was it anything like the sex we had?”
“I don’t know.” I look at him. It’s not like I got more moves in my bag. It’s pretty much the same thing, right? How does one answer this? I mean, obviously, sex is different between different people, and the sex with Gabriel is top tier, but it’s not like I’m a different person.
“He’s a fucking idiot.” He laughs. “Sweetheart, if you had sex with him like you have sex with me, he’s the biggest fucking idiot of life.” He shakes his head, and if I think that statement shocks me, it’s nothing like what comes out of his mouth next. “Fuck, I’d rush you to the altar now if I could.”
12
GABRIEL
“Fuck, I’d rush you to the altar now if I could.” Her eyes about bulge out of their sockets, and I try not to laugh as I wink at her, showing her it was a joke. Sort of. When she said it was her fiancé, I about threw the coffee cup across the room. But then she told me ex-fiancé, and I calmed down a bit. But only a bit. My nerves were still high-strung, and I had to tell myself I was only angry because if she had a fiancé and fucked me, that would make me an asshole. But I would be lying to myself. The reason I was pissed was because she couldn’t belong to someone else, not as long as I was here.
“Good to know I have options at least.” She looks at the phone as it beeps before she ignores it and looks back at me. Her hair is wild from me spending most of the night with it in my fists. Her eyes are bright green this morning but look like they have yellow in them like a sunflower. In other words, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. Ever.
“Just keeping it real with you, Sweetheart.” I take a gulp of my black coffee, trying to decide whether I’m going to make her breakfast or walk over to her, pluck her out of her chair, and let her ride me. I’m thinking I’ll go for the second option when the phone rings, and I know it’s not hers because it’s coming from the door where my jacket is.
“That would be yours,” she notes, picking up her coffee. I push off the counter to walk to my jacket, but I stop beside her, surprising her when I grab her hair and tug it back so she is looking up at me. Her eyes gloss over as I bend to kiss her lips before going to my phone.
Pulling it out of my jacket pocket, I see that it’s my cousin Charlie. “Hey.” I put the phone to my ear.
“Hey, you are like an hour late,” he huffs. “Do you think you’ll be joining us before lunch?”
“It’s not even seven thirty,” I point out, “but I’m on my way. I just have to make breakfast, and I’m coming.”
“We have food here.”
“Wasn’t going to make the food for me,” I say, and he chuckles. I look over at Zara, who is looking at her phone and then turning it over, probably so I don’t see. I shouldn’t care, but I fucking do.
“Big bad wolf finally got laid.” He laughs. “I can’t wait to see the spring in your step.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I assure him. “Got to head home and change first, switch out the truck.”
“I’ll alert the boys,” he says, hanging up.
“You don’t have to cook me breakfast, Cowboy,” she says when I toss my phone on the table and turn back to the kitchen.
“Sweetheart, I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” I avoid looking at her. I open the cupboards until I find what I need. “How do you like your eggs?”
“Usually scrambled,” she tells me, and I go about cutting the bacon into little pieces before tossing it in the pan.
“What’s your plan for the day?” I ask her as I whisk the two eggs in a bowl and add a splash of milk with some pepper.
“I have a couple of emails to look over, and then I’m going to go grocery shopping.” She heaves a sigh when her phone rings again.
“You might as well answer it,” I suggest, wanting to pick up the phone myself and see what the asshole has to say.
"Fuck that," she snaps, “I said what I had to say to him. There is literally nothing else to discuss.”
