Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

If he was aiming to make my brain short-circuit, there was a good chance he’d succeed.

I didn’t mind slow and gentle, but it wasn’t my preference—I was too impatient. This wasn’t a mere leisurely seduction, though. This wasn’t a prelude to a soft, easy fuck. This was Dax doing what he did best—messing with my mental equilibrium by making my emotions spin and keeping me off-balance.

I knew he could make the switch any moment from gentle and sensual to rough and aggressive. The anticipation of that was both maddening and intoxicating.

My breaths turning short and rapid, I fought the urge to reach for him. Which became so much harder when he traced the outline of my lower lip with his tongue—the nerve-endings in my face weren’t doing so well under the force of the sensory overload.

“Arms up,” he said. “Good.” He lazily lowered my zipper and then gestured for me to return my arms to my sides. He gently tugged my straps over my shoulders and allowed my dress to slither down my body and puddle at my feet.

His eyes flared with carnal heat as he took in my corset and lacy panties—both were the same shade of ivory as my gown. He dropped to a crouch, taking me by surprise. I inhaled sharply as he ghosted the tip of his nose over the strip of panty-covered skin above my clit.

His hand went straight to one shoe strap. He deftly undid it before then doing the same to the other. “Step out of them.” As soon as I did, he set them aside and then straightened in a move so fluid it was almost snake-like.

Dipping his head to mine, he skimmed the length of his finger along the underneath of my jaw, took my bottom lip between both of his, gave said lip a tug … and then drew back, depriving me of the kiss he knew I craved.

This motherfucker.

“Bed.” His tone—so velvety, so deep, so confident—effortlessly compelled me to comply.

I walked to the bed and slid onto the mattress, positioning myself flat on my back. The bamboo sheets were cool and soft against my skin.

“Now stay there just like that.” He unzipped his fly and then shucked his slacks and underwear. His dick was full and aggressively hard. At least nine solid, thick inches. It was really no shock that my nipples tightened and my inner walls clenched.

Dax stalked to the foot of the bed, making my heartbeat lose its steady rhythm all over again. He leaned forward, gripped the waistband of my panties, and then drew them down my legs. His gaze darkened to flint as he stared at my pussy. “Bare, just as I requested.”

Well, I’d known I’d benefit from it.

He tossed my underwear on the floor. “I was going to wait until I was inside you before I let you come. But now …” He splayed his warm, strong hands on my legs and shoved them apart with such effortless strength and entitlement that it made me a little dizzy. “Now, I think I’ll reward you by letting you come when I eat you out.”

Awesome. The sooner we got to that part the better. I was already wet and ready. My body was suspended in a devastatingly high state of anticipation that was becoming increasingly intolerable.

Kneeling between my thighs, he said, “I hope you’re not attached to this.”

I frowned. “To what?”

He tore open my corset, making several of the little hooks hit the floor with a ping.

I dragged in a stunned breath, and his eyes dropped to my breasts. Stared with such unwavering intensity a self-conscious flush raced up my neck. His gaze lowered even further, taking in my navel piercing and also the Aztec flower tattoo that spanned the left side of my lower stomach.

He traced the tattoo with his fingertip. “This is new. I like it. Is this Caelan’s work?”

I shook my head. “I had it done while on vacation years ago.”

Dax skated his fingertip away from the tattoo and up to circle one nipple. “I’m going to spend some time with these pretty breasts.” He curled his body over mine and planted a fist either side of my head. “First, though”—he sucked at the curve of my mouth—“there’s something I need to do.”

I slid my hands over his solid shoulders. “What’s that?”

His lips came down on mine. Finally. He kissed me with a sensuous, mind-numbing, sexual expertise—the familiarity of it caused a hundred memories to rush at me full-force.

With each skilled stroke of his tongue, I felt myself sink deeper and deeper into the moment. Until my focus centered so fully on the kiss—on the warmth of his lips, the velvet feel of his tongue, the nip of his teeth—that the world around me faded away.

I felt like I was drowning in the chemical bliss that assaulted me. My head spun. My thoughts went fuzzy. My body heated and trembled.

I clutched at his shoulders, pricking my nails into his skin, desperate for more even though my lungs burned for air at this point. My clit tingling, I arched into him, all but molding my body into his, grinding against his cock.

Breaking the kiss, Dax skimmed his lips down my throat as he rested his weight over me, forcing my body to sink into the mattress. Gasping for air now that my mouth was free, I wrapped my legs around his hips. I couldn’t arch or grind again—his weight pinned me in place.

He nibbled at my little “happy” spot between my neck and shoulder, making tingly sparks of pleasure dart to my clit. Then he bit down. Hard.

I hissed. “Ow. That hurt.”

He lapped at the bite and then blew air over my now-wet skin. A little shudder rode my spine, and he let out a pleased hum. “Still so very sensitive there, I see.”

He kissed his way down my chest and licked along the slope of my breast. A breast he proceeded to lavish some serious attention on—squeezing, nipping, suckling, palming. And I very soon realized that his “I’m going to spend some time with these” comment had been no exaggeration.

He went hell for leather on both, and he didn’t rush; he went at his own lazy, sensual pace. When he wasn’t using his hands on my breasts, he was skating them over my ribs, stomach, arms, or thighs.

My nipples were soon so sensitive and tight they throbbed with pleasure/pain, which was right when he trailed kisses down my stomach. He explored my tattoo with his tongue before settling his attention on the skin around my belly button—licking, nipping, suckling.

Then he went lower still, until I felt the wash of his warm breath over my pussy.

Thank the good Lord.

He nuzzled me. “I remember your smell, your taste.”

The first swipe of his tongue lashed my clit. The second zigzagged over my folds. The third licked at my slit … and then I lost track as he got right down to business.

His fingers dug into the globes of my butt, holding me in place as he gorged. I sank under the thrashing waves of sensation. There was just so much.

Pleasure swam through my veins, arching my neck, making my thigh muscles quiver. Tension coiled low and deep—one that wound tighter when he wrapped his lips around my little bundle of nerves and suckled gently.

Shit, marrying him was worth it just for this. Seriously. He ate pussy like it was a delicacy he wanted to savor and relish.

I choked on a moan as the velvet softness of his tongue rasped over the entrance of my pussy. And then it was inside me. Stabbing deep, swirling around, flicking at my g-spot.

I grabbed at his hair as I rode the pulses of his tongue. He kept them shallow. On purpose. And it drove me nuts.

I gave his hair a demanding tug, letting him know that—

A hand sharply came down on my inner thigh.

I jumped with a gasp. The sting of his punishing slap radiated right to my core, and the tension within me snapped. I shattered, my head tipping back, my pussy rippling, a hoarse cry crawling up my throat.

Dax let out a speculative hum. “That answers my unspoken question.” He skulked up my body until he was once more blanketing me, his broad shoulders blocking my view so that all I saw was him.

Breathing through my fast-subsiding orgasm, I rapidly blinked. “What?” I asked, my voice a little raspy.

“I wanted to know if riding the edge of pain still gets you off. It turns out it does.” He reached down and wedged the thick head of his cock inside me.

Well, hello. I dug my fingers into his sides because, yeah, ow. Not that he was monstrously big, but I hadn’t had sex in months and he boasted some serious girth, so there was always at least a small burn.

He swept his hand along my outer thigh and palmed my butt. “Wrap me up.”

I curved my legs around his hips and glided my hands up his back to hook onto the backs of his shoulders.

“I remember fucking this pussy for the first time,” he said, grazing the rim of my ear with his lips. “You were tighter than anything I’ve ever felt. But you took every inch, even though it hurt you.” He began to slowly push inside me and groaned deep in his throat. “Still so snug.”

I bit my lip at the fiery burn that streaked up my core. “Wait, I need a second.”

“You can take it, we both know you can. Just a little more …” He sank deeper still, forging his way past swollen, stubborn muscles. Finally, he bottomed out. “There, that’s a good girl.”

Uncomfortably full, I shifted slightly … which only made him slide deeper inside me. Shit. It was both good and bad, both pleasure and pain.

He braced his elbows on the mattress. “Your hands. Give them to me.”

I pressed my palms to his, and we linked our fingers. He twisted my left hand slightly so he could get a good look at the rings there. An intensity gathered in the backs of his eyes like the beginnings of a storm. Those eyes flew to mine as he stretched my arms so far above my head I felt the wrench in my shoulders.

I hitched in a breath, my nipples tightening painfully, my inner muscles spasming around him.

Grinding his teeth, he reared back in a slow retreat. “I’ve been wanting to do this since you first walked into my office.” He started slamming into me, his hips furiously snapping forward. I felt the slap of his balls with every deliciously deep thrust.

“Slow and gentle” vanished fast, and now he was sheer unadulterated sexual aggression. Loving it, I curled my legs even tighter around him.

He dragged his teeth down my throat, and the minor sting was a flick to my clit. Tightening my hold on his hands, I tilted my head to give him better access to my neck. A low growl vibrated along my skin, and then he sucked at my pulse hard. All the while, he kept powering into me at an insanely savage pace.

I couldn’t lie, being held down this way made my body sing. It wasn’t merely about being helpless. It was about having all that male contained power—one he usually kept so tightly leashed—directed at me. Only one thing would have made it better. Only one.

His perceptive gaze arrowed on mine, seeing too much. “I know you want to struggle. So struggle.”

I bucked my hips and strived to pull my hands free. He only groaned and took me harder. I bucked again. Writhed. Twisted. Hissed. Yanked against his hold. The more my struggles came to nothing, the closer I came to imploding—if that made me weird, so be it.

The friction building within me soon became too sharp, too tight, too static. “Dax …”

“It’s okay, baby, you can come.”

Hot sparks of pure bliss cracked through my system like lightning rods. I ignited, soared, drifted. I thought I screamed, but I wasn’t sure—too consumed by the release that lit up my body like a goddamn firework.

Dax grunted as he rammed harder and faster, each forward roll of his hips heavy and frantic as he chased his own orgasm. Then he found it, jamming his cock impossibly deep as jets of come burst out of him.

He collapsed on top of me, burying his face in my neck, his breathing as ragged as mine. God, if I could bottle up what I was feeling now I’d be a gazillionaire. Truly, I felt boneless. Depleted. Giddy. At peace. Totally relaxed.

And possessed. Purely and utterly possessed.

I’d give the guy a gold star if I had one. Maybe even a ribbon, too.

This marriage thing was working out so far. May the good sexual fortune continue.

∞∞∞

Looking in the mirror of the en suite bathroom the next morning, I grimaced. Ugh, I looked as fatigued as I felt. At least there were no bags under my eyes.

I’d had little sleep. Dax hadn’t been content with one round of sex. No, there’d been more.

He’d fucked my mouth. Like literally fucked it. And my throat. He’d also roughly taken me from behind while he had two fingers buried in my ass.

Basically, he hadn’t lied when he’d said he meant to use and defile me.

As such, I was sore in a few places, but not so sore it hurt to walk or anything. Which was good, because I had a long day ahead of me.

After doing my morning business, I padded into my new bedroom. Dax was nowhere in sight, but I could hear him pottering around downstairs. It hadn’t been a surprise to wake to an empty bed—he was a busy guy with several businesses to oversee. I knew from personal experience that it was tricky enough managing one.

I retrieved my morning-after duffel—which I’d brought here earlier this week—from the closet. As I plonked it on the bed, I heard my phone chime with yet another incoming text message.

I often woke to find dozens of work emails waiting for a response, but generally not a plentiful amount of texts from friends and family. However, I’d received several messages from various people this morning—some “checking in,” some asking how my wedding night went, some thanking me for inviting them to the event and telling me they had a great time.

The “checking in” emails were sent by my sisters and mom. Really, they wanted to hear that I was fine and not experiencing any regrets, so I’d assured them they had no need to worry. Sabrina had merely wanted to know if Dax liked the corset. I’d told her it was a hit, not mentioning that he’d torn it.

Deciding I’d read my new text in a little while, I pulled on some clothes, dabbed on a bit of makeup, and then made my way downstairs with my cell in hand. Following the sound of a muffled voice, I found Dax sitting at a table on the patio. He was speaking into his phone, an almost-empty plate and a half-full mug in front of him.

And he looked fresh as a damn daisy, not like someone who’d spent most of the night awake.

God clearly had favorites, and Dax was one of them.

Spread around the table were dishes covered by stainless steel domes. An un-used plate also waited, along with cutlery, a cup, a coffee jug, and creamer. That explained why the scents of coffee and food were heavy in the air.

He looked at me and tipped his chin in greeting. Though his eyes heated, he made no attempt to touch me. Didn’t flash me a soft smile or pause in his conversation to speak to me. But I hadn’t expected anything different, given he wasn’t affectionate or tactile by nature. Plus, we might be legally bound by marriage, but we weren’t emotionally bound.

Responding with a quick smile, I took the seat across from him, delighted to find it warm. The pergola provided plenty of shade, but the sun’s heat had nonetheless seeped into the chair fabric.

I could understand why he chose to eat breakfast out here. It was incredibly peaceful. There was so little noise. Beneath the sound of Dax’s voice, there was only the chirping of birds, the slight creak of the tall trees, and the very distant whine of a lawnmower.

Hungry and curious, I lifted each of the dome covers one by one to see what selection of food awaited. I loaded my plate with pancakes and blueberries, topped them with maple syrup, and then prepped myself a cup of coffee.

When I placed my first forkful of food in my mouth, I almost groaned. Damn, those pancakes were good. As I chewed, I checked the text I’d received mere minutes ago. It was from Ollie, asking if I needed help moving my things to Dax’s place. I felt my face soften. I knew it was his way of telling me that, in spite of his reservations, he was fully behind me from here on out.

I sent him a text, thanking him for his offer but assuring him I had it covered. Dax had already informed me that he, his brothers, Jag, and Maverick would take care of it.

As I wolfed down my breakfast, I scanned through my emails. I’d notified my clients that, due to my getting married, I’d be unavailable from the day prior to the day after. Though I’d told them to forward any queries to Sabrina, I still had a shit-ton of emails and voicemails—none of which I’d respond to until tomorrow.

Finally, Dax ended his call. Resting his phone on the glass table, he said, “Morning.”

“Morning,” I greeted, lowering my own cell to the table. “How long have you been up?”

“About an hour and a half, but I didn’t have the food delivered until I heard you moving around upstairs.”

An hour and a half? I gave him a dirty look. “Must be nice to be the picture of alertness when you had so little sleep.”

His lips quirking, he hiked up a brow. “Are you saying you would have preferred sleep to orgasms?”

“No.” I forked the last piece of pancake and dipped it in what was left of my syrup. “I just resent that you appear all sharp and on the ball while I look like I could drift off any second.” It quite simply wasn’t fair.

“What you look is well-fucked,” he corrected, his tone casual. “Nothing wrong with that.”

I blinked, pausing in chewing my food. Only he could talk about sex with the same nonchalance he’d also use when speaking of the weather.

He picked up his mug. “Maverick, Jag, and my brothers will meet us at your house in an hour so we can transfer your things here.”

“I’m assuming one of them will be driving something big enough to carry furniture,” I said, lowering my cutlery to my plate.

“Maverick’s going to borrow his dad’s van.”

“Ollie offered to help, which is really him extending an olive branch.”

“Good. I would rather you weren’t at odds with your brother.” Dax took a swig of his coffee. “Speaking of olive branches … Grayden emailed me this morning.”

I stilled while reaching for a wet wipe.

“He claims to regret how he’s behaved recently—more specifically his defense of Felicity and Blaise.”

I felt my brow furrow. “Defense?”

Dax knocked back more of his drink. “Sometime after I called Felicity to warn her how exceptionally stupid it would be for her or her son to fuck with you again, Grayden contacted me, insisting that I was overreacting and there’d been a ‘misunderstanding.’ He swore that Blaise hadn’t graffitied the sign, and he maintained that Felicity had only been rude to you because she was drunk.”

What an asshole. Grayden knew she was a bitch to me in general, and he knew Blaise was a regular vandal. Then again, Grayden was bound to stick up for his family, wasn’t he?

Sniffing, I tore open the wet wipe wrapper. “Making light of their behavior was a shitty move, but it’s only natural that he’s protective of them.”

“I don’t think it was a matter of protectiveness. I think he was angry at me for making you mine, and he used my warnings to Felicity and Blaise as an excuse to reproach me.”

I felt my brows dip. “What makes you think that?”

“There was bitterness in his wording. The emotion was out of place. Why be bitter that I’d issued warnings to his woman and stepson?”

Why indeed. Cleaning my sticky fingers, I tilted my head. “What did you do?”

“I sent him the CCTV footage showing Blaise clearly vandalizing the parking sign. That spoke for itself. I wasn’t going to be baited into engaging in an argument just so Grayden had an excuse to vent.”

If my ex had aimed to wrench a real reaction out of Dax, he’d taken the wrong route. You couldn’t hope to play a master manipulator unless you had some serious game of your own. Grayden did not. “What was his response to the footage?”

“There wasn’t one. I didn’t hear from him again until this morning. He apologized for how he’d acted.” Dax paused. “He also suggested that you and I go to dinner with him and Felicity sometime soon.”

“What?” I blurted on a humorless chuckle of pure disbelief. “Why? I mean, I know you two were once friends, but that was in high school, right?”

“Yes. We lost touch once he went to law school. I think he wanted to distance himself from me due to my reputation for fear that no law firm would otherwise employ him.” He shrugged, unbothered. “Proposing we have dinner is more or less a peace offering. He probably hopes he can smooth things over.”

“Probably. I wouldn’t want my family to be in your bad books.” I dropped the used lemon-scented wipe on my plate. “If you want us to go make peace with them, I’ll do it. As I’ve said before, I don’t want you to be at odds with your family.”

Truthfully, though, I wasn’t confident that it would help much. Felicity would be seething that I’d married her cousin. Seeing Dax and I together wouldn’t be something she’d enjoy, let alone take with grace.

“And as I’ve explained to you before, Felicity and Blaise might be my relatives by blood, but we have no relationship.” Dax set down his cup. “You, on the other hand, are my wife. I’m not going to place you in an uncomfortable situation of any kind. Nor would I expect you to make peace with someone who quite frankly doesn’t deserve it.”

Oh. Well. All right, then. “Have you replied to his email?”

“No. Nor do I intend to. He’ll get the message. But if he chooses to ignore it and contacts you about this—whether by phone or email—tell me.”

“He won’t be able to contact me by phone. I blocked his number recently. I should have done it months ago rather than put up with him calling and texting at his leisure, but I didn’t want to give him that satisfaction.”

Dax’s brows dipped. “Calling and texting about what?”

“Nothing. Random, unimportant stuff. Which was shitty, since he promised me no contact.” But Grayden had a habit of breaking promises where I was concerned. “He’s likely scared enough of you to leave me alone from here on out.”

“If he doesn’t stop, I want to know about it,” Dax told me, a warning in his gaze.

“Okay,” I acceded, more than willing to hand the problem over to him if it meant finally getting some damn peace from my ex.

Dax pushed out of his chair. “I’ll ask for someone to come collect the dishware and leftovers. After they’re done, we can leave. Unless you need more time?”

“No, I’m ready whenever.”

A short time later, I was walking toward my front door—well, it was now more or less Alicia’s front door, since I would be moving out today and she would soon own the house. I blew out a breath, not fond of the sun’s heavy heat pressing down on my skin. Pulling my keys out of my pocket, I glanced back at Dax. He was still in his car, his lips moving rapidly, so he obviously hadn’t finished his business call yet.

There was no van or unfamiliar vehicles parked nearby, so my helpers clearly hadn’t yet arrived. Unless they were running late, they should be here in the next fifteen minutes or so.

Striding into the house, I called out Alicia’s name. Rather than close the front door behind me, I left it ever so slightly ajar so that Dax could enter when ready.

She padded out of the living room, a huge grin on her face. “Well, hello, Mrs. Mercier. How’s holy matrimony?”

“So far, so good.” I gave her a quick hug. “People will be arriving soon to help me move my stuff.”

“Yes, I remember you saying that Dax, his bros, and two of his buds would be here. I’ll keep everyone plied with drinks. Why shift boxes when I can instead watch their muscles ripple and bunch? That’s not a show I care to miss.”

I snickered. “Did I miss anything interesting after I left the venue last night?”

She pursed her lips. “Harri and Drey exchanged numbers, but not as two people looking to date. He wants her to give private lessons to his dog—apparently the canine is a lunatic who’s been so far impossible to train.”

Huh. “What about you and Jag? Were numbers exchanged?”

“I won’t lie, the dude is hot as a motherfucker. But Raven told me he’s dating someone. She works in the same tattoo shop as him. The one Caelan owns.”

I felt my shoulders sag. “Bummer.”

“All the pretty ones are taken lately.”

The door hinges creaked as Dax walked inside.

My sister waved. “Hello, brother-in-law.”

He tipped his chin. “Alicia.” Having gotten a good look at the stacks of boxes waiting in the hallway, he slid his gaze to me. “Do you realize that almost half are labeled ‘books?’”

I tugged at the bottom of my tee. “Yes, I do. I’ll make no apologies. It’s a harmless addiction.”

He hummed. “My mother has an awful lot of books, but I think you may have her beat.”

“Don’t worry, they’ll all fit in my bookcase.”

His brow dented. “There’s a bookcase big enough to hold that many novels?”

Alicia chuckled. “Yup. It has ladders and everything.”

“It’ll fit perfectly fine in the sunroom,” I assured him. It was the room he’d cleared so I could set up a home office.

Right then, a knock came at the front door. Our helpers were finally here. Dax welcomed them inside, and Alicia took orders for drinks. I didn’t miss that a long, heated look passed between her and Jag.

I tried to help move the boxes and furnishings, but the guys refused, saying I’d have enough to do once it came to unpacking. Maverick also claimed their mothers would kill them if they heard that their sons hadn’t done the heavy lifting for me. As such, I mostly stood with Alicia and silently objectified the living shit out of them.

Don’t get me wrong, I had no eyes for or interest in anyone other than Dax. That didn’t mean I couldn’t acknowledge when another guy was hot. And oh, I acknowledged.

Despite being cousins, Maverick and Jag didn’t look much alike, though they were both tall and edgy. Lean and toned with a silver tongue, Maverick sported choppy hair the color of faded gold and light-hazel eyes that held a permanent “up-to-no-good” gleam. Jag was a broad, muscled, dark-eyed, tattooed slice of bad-boy heaven who didn’t talk much—he was more of a grunter, but in an inexplicably appealing way.

I found it interesting that, after their initial clash of gazes, Jag made a point of not looking in my sister’s general direction. Similarly, though she took the occasional sneak peek at his ass when he bent over to lift stuff, Alicia otherwise paid him little attention.

Handing a glass of water to Drey when the guys took a quick break, I said, “I hear my baby sister is going to help you train your dog.”

He flashed me a dimply smile. “That’s my hope. But other trainers have failed, so I’m not optimistic—and I mean no disrespect to Harri. He’s just a nut.”

“He really is,” agreed Caelan, taking a cold glass of lemonade from Alicia. “And he’ll eat anything.”

Maverick nodded, his eyes gleaming with both humor and frustration. “He tried chewing the wheel of my bike. And my phone. And my oil rag.”

Drey sighed, carving his fingers through his short dark hair. “I’m starting to think he has no sense of taste.”

“Who?” asked Jag as he strolled into the hallway having exited the half-bath.

“Sabre,” replied Dax.

Jag grunted. “Yeah, any creature that will willingly try to eat a bottle of antibacterial gel either can’t taste shit or ain’t right in the head.”

“Could be both,” said Dax. “It’s lucky for him that Drey swiped the bottle from him before his teeth could pierce it.”

Drey’s eyes, their color a dark midnight blue that was exceptionally striking, settled on me again. “Don’t get us wrong, Sabre’s a great dog. He just also happens to be a pain in the ass to train.”

“If anyone can help, it’s Harri,” declared Alicia.

“Definitely,” I agreed. “She’s magic with dogs.”

Once their break was over, the guys began shifting the last of my things to the van. Meanwhile, I—after a long and arduous struggle—managed to get Gypsy into her pet carrier while Alicia bagged the few kitty things I’d left lying around, such as the bed and food bowls.

Eventually, all was done. I said goodbye to my sister, whispered a mental farewell to the house—telling myself I was not feeling teary—and went back to Dax’s villa.

Since I needed to keep Gypsy indoors for a few weeks so she’d accept this was her new home, I didn’t let her out of the carrier until the guys were done bringing everything inside. She all but flew out of it with a yowl of complaint and then disappeared into the kitchen.

Leaving her to explore, I went straight to the master bedroom, where many of my boxes waited. Others were in what would be my office, where the men were setting up my bookcase—they’d had to take some of it apart just to get it out the house and into the van.

I played some music on my phone as I unpacked. Dax had already cleared out a dresser for me, along with half the closet. There were also now free drawers for me in the bathroom. As such, I didn’t struggle finding places for everything.

When I was finally done, I searched the house for some sign of Gypsy. She was nowhere to be seen, so I put out some food for her and then joined Dax and our helpers on the patio. They were sitting around, talking and drinking beer.

Dax looked up at me. “I’m going to order dinner for us all. What do you feel like having?”

I didn’t even have to think about it. “Pizza. I don’t care what toppings you—” I stopped talking as a knock came at the front door. When I opened it to find Sabrina stood waiting, dozens of gift bags at her feet, I remembered she’d promised to drop off the wedding presents on behalf of our team.

Her mouth thinned. “You forgot I was coming, didn’t you?”

“No. Sort of. Here, let me help.” I grabbed some of the bags and, together, we carted them all inside and plopped them in the hallway.

Spotting the guys through the living room doorway, she waved. “Hello, pretty boys.” After they’d called out their own greetings, she took a long look around. “Hello, pretty house.”

“I told you it was the shit.”

She rubbed her hands. “So, what’s it like being a wife?”

“Not much different, if it makes you feel any better about Tamara’s distaste for marriage.”

Her upper lip curled. “It doesn’t.”

“Be honest, what is it that you actually want most—to be married, or to have a wedding?”

“The latter,” she admitted.

Unreal. “Well, how about I throw you a birthday party next year that is wedding-themed and you’re basically a bride for the day?”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh my God, I would love that.”

“There. Problem solved.” I slanted my head. “You want to stay for pizza?”

“Ooh, definitely. I want a tour of the villa first.”

“Then let’s go.”