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Willa deserved better—more. Fucking hell, she deserved everything.
And I would give it to her.
Soon.
The restoration of Boston’s criminal world was a sit-down away. Under my direction, we’d finalized terms with the Albanians and the Brennans over the past week. Last on the list were the Russians. God willing, by day’s end, I could trust that everyone I cared about was safe. Especially my wife.
My wife.
A slow grin unfurled. Suppressing my feelings would have been futile.
There was so much about each other to explore and learn. I’d never had the chance to court her. Our marriage had been fast-tracked out of necessity. But we had a lifetime now.
I already knew it wouldn’t be enough.
Perhaps I really was the godless monster I’d been labeled. Betrayal, death, and destruction continued to crowd our lives, yet I was consumed with how I would spend every minute proving to Willa that she was the object of my soul’s existence.
She’d been the one to resurrect it, after all.
To honor one’s feelings—was that selfishness? Or had liberation from a fraudulent past left me on just this side of normal? There was still a graveyard of family skeletons to unearth, but with each breath I took, it felt like I was shedding the skin of my former self.
Willa arched a curious eyebrow at my silence.
Clearly, my wife didn’t think this was the time for an internal debate on the merits of altruism and the virtue of selfishness.
I’d have to agree.
Her eyes filled with mirth. “Don’t think too hard—you’re gonna give yourself an aneurysm. Imagine those optics?” She feigned a dramatic sigh. “Widowed twice by twenty ... people might start—”
My mouth slammed against her delicious pout with uncontrolled hunger. Our wedding may have been the farthest thing from traditional, but I wanted to kiss my fucking bride.
“How long will you be gone?” she panted after I’d kissed her senseless.
“A few hours—maybe more.”
She froze, then retreated a half step as she chewed on her bottom lip.
A stampede of irate elephants was quieter than Willa’s mind at work.
She cast me a look of suspicion. “Who will be watching me?”
“Five guards outside. Finn will be monitoring the interior and exterior cameras.”
“Ah ... so you’ll need Liam and Keegan with you ... and you won’t be”—she tapped the cell phone in the front pocket of my slacks—“watching me on the cameras yourself—which means your phone will be turned off.”
I made a mental note to never underestimate my wife’s intelligence.
My decision to downplay the afternoon agenda lay solely with protecting Willa’s mental and emotional health. Between my own discoveries and the delicate information Keegan had shared with me, I knew that Willa was determined to stay sober. She’d already been engaged and married in a matter of minutes today; I didn’t need to complicate her thoughts with concerns about my mortality.
But apparently Willa didn’t share those sentiments.
She jutted her chin at me, crossing her arms. “Am I allowed to ask where you’re going?”
I held back my grin.
She hadn’t wasted any time testing the boundaries of our new relationship.
I slid my hands under her oversized sweater until my fingers found the heated flesh of her waist. She smelled like vanilla and whatever sugary substance she’d been consuming earlier. I wanted to run my tongue over every inch of her body to taste her sweetness. But we were short on time.
