He chuckled and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “Yeah, that needs fixing. I think Stephen’s working on it…in between wooing some woman who’s playing harder to get than any I’ve ever encountered, and that’s saying something.”
“Why didn’t you take the transfer?”
“I think you know.”
“Really? You refused it to do a favor for a maniac, redheaded shrew?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because Sharon told me she really believed we each had something the other needed, you and I. I can always move, but how many chances is a guy like me going to have to claim a trophy wife?”
“You’re an idiot.” That heat traveled up her neck to her cheeks again, but this time she didn’t try to hide it.
“I liked the idea of marrying within our little tribe,” he said.
“Yeah. I guess I do too, now. And it wouldn’t have happened otherwise.”
They sat in silence for a while and sipped, occasionally sharing shy glances, and then they both spoke at once.
She said, “Thank you. For everything.”
He said, “Tell me. Why’d you pick that ring? I know now it doesn’t suit you.”
She looked down at her left hand and studied her ring finger. She’d forgotten about that garish thing. It was overkill. Fit for a rock star’s wife, which was a job she was never suited for in the first place. The ring was meant to be seen from afar, but this stage in her life was about blending in. Discretion. Normalcy.
She’d missed being normal, or as close to normal as a Scott could manage.
“You’re right. It doesn’t suit me. I actually don’t like being stared at. It was meant to be a billboard, I guess. You know, Spike never bought me one. He wanted me to get his name tattooed on my finger, and I refused. I ended up buying my own band after the wedding. He never wore a ring.” She slipped the ring over her knuckle and held it up to the light. “Could probably put a down payment on a house with that thing.”
His lips quirked up. “If anyone from the press asks, you could tell them you lost it during your second honeymoon.”
“Oh yeah? Where are you taking me?”
His smile pulled in slightly, and he cleared his throat. “Someplace cold. Someplace where skimpy bathing suits would be inappropriate.”
“You liked it.”
“I liked it too much. And so did everyone else.”
“How about a modest one-piece? No cutouts, no butt floss. I think Toby wants to see Aruba.”
“Oh, Toby does, huh? As if I could say no.”
She bared her toothiest grin. “I’ll give you veto power over the suits, as long as you promise to not take any more light reading with you. Makes a girl feel like she’s not entertaining enough.”
“If you really think that, you need to have your head examined. I think you may be too entertaining. I still have a bit of a cramp in my calf from that last time.”
“What can I say? I like that you like touching me.”
“I like that you want me to touch you.”
Had that really been an issue for him in all that time? Fear of her revulsion? He had to be fucking kidding.
He offered her a lopsided grin and shrugged.
“Wow. How about we go do some touching right now? Got time before work?”
He set down his coffee cup and pulled her to her feet. Without warning, he tossed her over his shoulder and trekked to the front door. He locked it, then hauled her down the hall like a rolled carpet.
When he tossed her onto his unmade bed, he had a devilish glint in his gaze. “Not nearly enough time, but I’ve got an hour for a quickie.”
She smiled when he yanked her pants down her legs in one easy pull. “I’m all yours.”
Pausing his undressing to press a kiss on her lips, he whispered, “I know. And you have no idea how long I’ve waited for it.”