Accidental Shield (Marriage Mistake #6)(36)

I finally make my lungs work again and set the tray on the table beside the tub. “Good. I brought you some tea and pain pills.”

Frowning, she asks, “Aren’t you joining me?”

“Sure will, but first I need to prep supper. Let me pull something out of the freezer.”

I thank my lucky stars I’ve got a real excuse. We do need dinner. Steaks, salads, sides, the whole nine yards.

Somehow, though, the only meat I’m really thinking about is the tortured bulge below my beltline.

Seeing too much skin on that woman puts dragon fire through my veins. If things were different, I’d already be in there with her, but I can’t complicate this shit more. I refuse.

“I’m not that hungry,” she calls after me.

“You will be later,” I tell her over my shoulder. “You’d be surprised how that heat works up an appetite.”

Once I’m in the kitchen, I pull some steaks out, prep a marinade, and start texting old contacts, everyone who used to be part of my old Damysus Security crew. Plenty of men I know who, like Cash and I, live regular lives now, but they owe me a few favors. They’re willing to jump back into their old professions and send help.

Gotta admit, there’s a certain thrill contacting these guys. It’s like getting the old band back together. Their responses are swift and positive.

They don’t ask for details, just who, when, and where.

Once I’ve got a couple boys assigned to security and others digging up dirt on King Heron, I go shove on my swimming trunks and head for the tub, fighting the urge to wag my finger at my cock to behave.

“About time,” Val says, sitting up a little straighter in the bubbly water. “I was starting to wonder if you were standing me up.”

“Sorry. Had to throw the steaks into a marinade.” I’d dropped them in a saucy concoction inspired by mojo sauce. Garlic, citrus, a little oil, and damn delicious. “I’ll grill them up later.”

“Sounds good.” She lays her head on the back of the tub. “I’m glad you got me out here. This is really nice. Every muscle in my body feels like butter.”

“It’ll do that.” I nod, climbing in and sinking down across from her, trying like hell to keep my eyes on her face.

No easy task.

Not when her tits are practically falling out, two delectable globes taunting my vision.

“I love how everything’s arranged out here. Did I help with the decorating, or was that all you?”

Shit. Here come the questions I have to answer with a forked tongue again. Apparently, just lying through my teeth isn’t hard enough.

Now, I get to do it with my dick so hard I could bust up concrete.

“You were a big help,” I say, seizing the opportunity to get her off the past. “I’d have never picked out the right flowers for this place. Still needs a few trees planted back here.”

Yeah, here we go. Another white lie. My ma actually helped with the flowers, but it’s believable I needed somebody’s input.

She glances around, focusing on the open yard before the tall concrete wall that goes clear to the sandy beach.

“You’re right.” Smiling brightly, she points to a specific area. “A banana tree would be perfect right over there.”

We spend some time talking about that, easy things that are just speculative and don’t require serious thought, until the skin on our fingers and toes wrinkles up. I’m grateful for how the conversation flows, without the need to bullshit her.

I listen to her dreaming up a whole new orchid garden and trees for this place until my stomach growls so loud she does a double take. “That’s not Savanny. Think it’s our cue to get some grub.”

Smiling, she nods and takes the hand I extend to her, helping her out of the tub.

Brutal truth: I’m starting to love that smile of hers more than I should.

Of course, my fucking head snaps right to her ass the instant her back is turned, and the whole spectrum of terrible thoughts comes in force. The things I could do to this girl.

If only I wasn’t a chronic liar.

If only she wasn’t missing half her life.

If only Val wouldn’t hate my guts whenever the inevitable truth leaks, one way or another.

After climbing out, I go to see if the steaks are thawed while she gets dressed.

She arrives in the kitchen, and I set down my phone, having been checking new texts from my makeshift crew of beefed up bodyguards and P.I.s.

The frown she’s wearing gets my attention.

“What’s wrong?”

She sighs. “Why do I have so few clothes? Feels like I’m missing half my wardrobe.”

Well, fuck.

I assumed she’d just put the dress back on. She hadn’t.

In fact, she threw one of my button-up shirts on over it.

I’m slow to think up an answer before she shrugs, then asks, “Is there another closet, maybe?”

I grab a fork to flip the steaks in their marinade, trying to act casual. “Most of your stuff’s still at your place. Remember how I said we weren’t married long?”

“Oh, where’s that?”

I stab the meat, scraping the bottom of the pan.

“Honolulu.” That’s where her family home is, and where she’d lived until the accident, so it’s not a total lie. That also makes it extra damn risky. “We just haven’t gotten around to moving everything in here yet. Hell of a lot going on between building a new home and getting everything situated.”