With his hands cupping my jaw, he kisses me with a hunger I pray will never abate before announcing to our guests what I’m confident will never weaken—that he is mine as much as I am his.
19
Isaac
Trust goes both ways.
My brisk pace across the polished mahogany floors of my nightclub slows when it occurs minus the greeting I generally receive each day. Tina would usually be prepping the bar for the guests who drink here even with it being only eleven in the morning.
Regan said Tina had quit, but I was unaware it was without notice. If I had known, I would have altered the rosters to ensure the shelves were restocked with the liquor my unexpected birthday party depleted from my stockpile.
There’s no surprise I was shocked last night. As I’ve said previously, I’ve never celebrated my birthday, so to marry the love of my life and celebrate the day of my birth with those nearest and dearest to me within hours made yesterday the best day of my life.
When Isabelle and I shared news of our nuptials with those in attendance at my party, nobody cared it was a Monday. We celebrated until the wee hours of this morning, making me a little unsteady on my feet. Alcohol rarely affects me. It’s the lightness of my steps making me cautious. I feel like I’m about to float away. That’s how lithe and free I feel since Isabelle became mine.
Hate is a heavy burden to carry.
I’m free of that now.
My flighty feeling worsens the more I think about Isabelle. I stared at her sleeping for hours this morning. I crave her deeply, but there’s something mesmerizing about watching her sleep. The touch of a smile on her lips not even horrific nightmares could remove, and the slight hue of pink her cheeks don’t usually adorn fascinate me so much, I’ve added many photographs of her sleeping to my collection the past seven months—almost as many as her panties.
My thoughts are snapped back to the present when a familiar face pops out of the storage room at the back of the bar, startling me. “Did you have chimpanzees running the place while I was away? It’s a fucking mess.” Hugo hits me with a cheeky wink before his lips curve into a grin.
Feeding off his playfulness, I ask, “Do you need some pointers on pleasing your woman? Surely, the honeymoon period isn’t over for you already.”
Hugo’s grin turns blinding. “Despite your efforts, Joel’s sudden urge to sleep in our bed hasn’t diminished Ava’s needs in the slightest. Have you ever tried to keep up with the demands of a pregnant lady?”
His question has barely left his mouth, but he already wants to ram it back in. He knows I’m sterile because I stupidly let it slip while consoling him for announcing he had ‘stolen’ Ava’s virginity in front of their family and friends—including both sets of parents.
“Sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“It’s fine.” I place my suitcase onto the bar before joining him in the storage room. He’s right. It is a mess. “Isabelle and I have options if we want to go that route, but for now, what we have is enough.”
A wish for Hugo not to be able to read me as well as he does wordlessly leaves my lips when he asks, “You reached out to Jae?”
I lift my chin. I don’t like talking about my personal life in general, let alone with my staff, but Hugo means more to me than a standard employee. He got shot endeavoring to save Isabelle. In a way, I owe him more than I care to admit.
Still, I veer our conversation onto a playing field I’m confident fielding. “What are you doing here, Hugo? You only wed this weekend. Shouldn’t you be on your honeymoon?”
He gives me a curious stare. “You do realize you got married two days after me, right?”
I shove my hands into my pockets before shooting him a wry look. He doesn’t flinch.Stupid bastard.
He smiles, loving that he’s riled me up. “You said you wanted to talk.”
Fear is not an emotion I often experience, but I’m certain it’s the reason for the twitch in my top lip. “Yes, when you relocated to Ravenshoe, not while you’re supposed to be enjoying the perks of wedded bliss.”
My jaw ticks when he mumbles, “Sounds like someone needs to take his own advice.”
After dumping empty boxes into a cardboard receptacle on his left, Hugo wipes at the sweat on his brow with his shirt. His strong work ethic is one of the reasons he climbed the rankings of my empire so quickly. Whether serving patrons in a rundown bar that was scheduled to be bulldozed, or wooing clients who don’t bat an eyelid at being charged three thousand dollars for a bottle of whiskey in the VIP booths of my clubs, his work effort doesn’t alter.
Don’t mistake me, I pay him very well, but I have a knack for reading people, so you can be assured even if his salary wasn’t in the high six figures every year, he’d still be here, working to the bone.
“Ava wants to delay our honeymoon until bub is born.” Hugo lowers his shirt back down, hiding the vast collection of tattoos covering almost every inch of his torso. “What’s your excuse?”
My jaw tightens, unappreciative of the interrogation in his tone. Humor is there too, but I don’t hear things like normal men do. “Isabelle is at work. If she weren’t, I wouldn’t be here.”
I nudge my head to my office door, implying we should move our conversation to a private location. He will also want to be sitting down when he realizes why I requested us to meet.
