Saint (A Dark Mafia Romance)(82)

Fuck. This is literally the last girl on the whole fucking planet I should have anything to do with besides a friendly nod or a boring conversation about work at the odd Christmas party.

Protect them. William's words reverberate through my head, filling the deafening silence between my ears. The Old Man's dying words were to make sure his daughters were safe and protected. I'm fairly confident that grabbing Quinn's hips and pulling her back against me as I bury my cock inside of her doesn't count much in that department.

“Wow how long’s it been since you guys have seen each other?” Hudson's words cut through the hanging silence, and the cheer in his voice is so amazingly out of place given the situation, even if he doesn't realize that I cringe. “Probably not since the wake or-”

“Yeah it's been a very long time.” Quinn's words are sharp and quick, and her eyes darken as she stares daggers at me.

Yeah, she's pissed. I suddenly realize I'm still staring at her like a complete asshole with my mouth hanging open, and so I force myself to smile. Great, now I'm grinning like a douchebag at a girl who very clearly wants to either drop through a hole in the ground or push me into one. Possibly both, and I can't say I really blame her.

“Uh, hey, Quinn.” I cough uncomfortably. She's wearing this incredible navy blue bridesmaids dress that brings out the storm in her eyes and shows every single one of her curves and-

- And wow, I'm having thoughts about her wardrobe bringing out the 'storm in her eyes'. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Hey Logan.” She spits out my name like it’s a bad taste in her mouth before she turns to Hudson and plasters a smile on her face. “Well, I need to go make sure we're all set up with the caterers. You ready for this, big guy?” Hudson grins and all I can think is how envious I am of how cool and collected he is right now. As opposed to, you know, me, who's tongue-tied and sweating bullets. Fuck, isn't that his job today?

Quinn turns back and gives me one last quick and withering glance before she turns on her heeled foot and storms out of the greenhouse.

Well, that went well.



“Quinn, hang on!” The sprawling rose bush and hedge gardens of the Archer estate are a great place to have a wedding, but they're also a great place to lose this girl if she won't slow the fuck down for one Goddamn second.

My mind spins as I stalk after her. Okay, so we're two people who slept together, who definitely shouldn't have ever slept together, definitely. But shit, like that's the first time something like that has ever happened between two consenting adults? We're both grown ups here, and so we saw each other naked. Big deal, right? I mean, it's funny, right? We're going to just laugh about this, right?

I finally catch up with her and grab her by the arm, but she whirls and shakes loose of my touch. There's a fury on her face as she looks at me with this wild mix of hurt and fierceness, only made more-so by the auburn hair framing her face and the ice-blue of her eyes as she glares at me. “Did you know?!”

Yeah, no, we're definitely not going to be laughing about this.

I've cornered her behind one of the hedge-rows in the back gardens, but the way she whirls towards me has me suddenly feeling like the cornered one. I clear my throat, “What?”

She huffs and crosses her arms across her chest and stares at me with fire in her eyes, and she'd almost look adorable if I wasn't at least half sure she was maybe about to stab me. “Did you know who I was that-” She closes her mouth quickly and looks around before she glares at me again, “that night?” She hisses out.

There's something about her tone that digs under my skin, as if she's accusing me of wronging her honor or some bullshit. As if she wasn't a completely willing participant in everything that happened that night a week before.

...A very willing participant, I might add.

“You mean when we fucked?” I'm crass on purpose, trying to dig into her right back, and I grin when I see that it works as she blushes bright scarlet and rolls her eyes as she groans loudly in disgust.

“Yes, Logan, when we-” She shakes her head and looks away again.

“No, Quinn, I didn't.”

“No?” She's got that fucking accusatory tone in her voice that's getting under my skin like a splinter.

“No, Jesus, of course not.” I say it way too fast and with way too much force.

Her eyes narrow at me. “Well what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean I'd never have done that if I knew it was you.”

Oh, yeah, much smoother, asshole.

Quinn clearly has the same opinion of my answer as she snarls at me. “You lost the beard.”

“Yeah, I-” She's still frowning at me, but hey, it sounds like at least a half concession towards mutual fault here. I mean shit, it's not like I purposefully showed up beaten to fucking pulp at her apartment that night.