The Kiss Thief(76)

“One I’d like an answer to.”

He paused. “No. I’ve never been in love. Have you?”

I thought about Angelo. Then I thought about all the things I’d gone through because of my love for Angelo. I didn’t know how I felt about him anymore, but I knew that lying to my husband out of fear was going to put me squarely in the same place my mother was struggling with right now.

“Yes.”

“Hurts like hell, doesn’t it?” He smiled to the view outside his window.

“Yes,” I agreed.

“That’s why I refrain from the feeling,” he said.

“But it also felt good when it was requited.”

He turned around to face me. “No love is fully requited. No love is equal. No love is fair. There is always one side that loves more. And you better not be that side—because it suffers.”

Silence stretched until we parked the car outside of the so-called cabin.

“But you”—he turned to me, smirking—“you’re smarter than to yield to your love.”

I don’t love Angelo anymore, you fool, I wanted to scream. I love you.

“Which is why I respect you,” he added.

“You respect me?”

He got out, rounded the car, and opened my door for me. “If you’re into milking things, I’d love for it to be my cock and not simply for compliments. You know I respect you, Nem.”





The fridge in the cabin had been stocked with everything good and tasty. Freshly baked French buns sat on the counter. I wolfed down two, with local strawberry jam and chunky peanut butter. Wolfe hopped into the shower, and I did the same after him. Then he stuffed a six-pack of beer and a handful of individually wrapped brownies into my backpack and ordered me to join him for a walk. My forehead was still sore, my lip kept on opening every time I smiled, and I found out that my ribs must’ve bruised when I was put on the gurney, but I complied nonetheless.

I began to second-guess our mutual decision not to take a honeymoon together when he threw my girly bag over his shoulder and led me to a paved, concrete path surrounded by wild grass that whooshed in the cool breeze of the evening. The wind and the lake provided a sound more pleasurable than any symphony, and the view was a spectacular shade of purple and pink sunset diving into rolling hills. We walked for twenty minutes before I noticed another wooden cabin up the hill from where we were.

“What’s there?” I pointed at the cabin.

He moved a hand over his thick, dark hair. “Do I look like a tour guide?”

“You look like a sour man, Senator,” I taunted. He laughed.

“We could check.”

“Could we? I don’t want to trespass.”

“Such a law-abiding citizen. If only your father would share the virtue.”

“Hey.” I frowned. He flicked me under the chin lightly. The gesture was growing on me. Especially paired with the fact that I no longer believed that Wolfe didn’t have feelings for me. Not after the way he held me the day of the car chase.

“Sterling keeps telling me to stop doing that. Bunching you and your father together, I mean. It’s hard.”

“Do you do it often?” I winced as he took my hand and tugged me up the hill.

“Not lately.”

“And why is that?” I asked.

“Because you’re polar opposites.”

As we went uphill, my breathing became more ragged. I was determined to make conversation to avert my thoughts from the fact I was definitely not in shape. I neglected my horse-riding sessions in favor of school. Plus, I did have a question burning on the tip of my tongue.

“Are you willing to tell me why you hate my father so much now?”

“No. You can feel free to stop asking right now because the day I’ll be ready to share this with you is never.”

“You’re so unfair.” I allowed myself a sulk.

“I never claimed to be. At any rate, the answer isn’t something you’d like to know.”

“But maybe I do. Maybe it’d give me peace with the fact that he disowned me.”

He stopped in front of what wasn’t a cabin but a red and white barn. “The fact that he gave up his precious gem just because I touched it is enough reason as to why he doesn’t deserve you.”

“And you do?” I asked.

“But, my darling, that’s the difference between me and your father. I never pretended to deserve you. I simply took you.”

I threw an arm over the barn’s wooden gate, shaking my head. “That’s definitely trespassing, Wolfe. I’m not going in.”

He jumped over the fence, making his way inside the barn without looking back. There was fresh hay scattered by the doors, and by the scent of moist soil and what my riding instructor liked to call road apples (horse poop) floating in the air, I knew livestock were inside.

I heard Wolfe whistling from the depth of the open barn, clucking his tongue.

“She’s a beauty.”

“It’s been two seconds since you left my side, and you’re already flirting,” I called out. The smile on my face hurt my cheeks. The sound of his throaty, gruff laughter filled the air. I pressed my thighs together, something empty inside me aching to finally let him in. I could have sex with him tonight. God, I wanted to have sex with him tonight. For the first time since our engagement party, I felt fully prepared for my husband physically. More than prepared. Needy. And even though Wolfe was next to impossible to read, I did know this about him—he wanted me, too.