“No way. No freaking way!”
“Luca—” I start, desperate, but it’s too late.
“You got married onSightUnseenin Vegas?!” he blurts, pointing at Declan.
Declan doesn’t even flinch. Doesn’t deny it. He just leans against the door frame, arms still folded.
“So, let me get this straight,” Matteo says slowly. “You two aremarried—from some reality TV show—and didn’t tell anyone?”
Declan angles his head toward me, smirk tugging at his lips. “She wouldn’t let me. My wife seems to think being tied to me would ruin her reputation.”
I scoff, heat rushing to my cheeks. “Not now, Declan.”
He shrugs.
Luca suddenly throws his hands up. “At least youknowwho you married.” He pauses, squinting as if the thought itself is exhausting. “The only reason you haven’t heard aboutmywife is because I don’t exactly remember her name.”
That breaks us all. Even me, despite myself. Giggles burst out, laughter spilling across the room until my ribs ache.
“Marlow here gave me a fake name when we got married.”
“No way!” Luca says again and another round of laughter begins.
I sober quicker than the rest, cutting in before anyone can forget what’s at stake. “Alright, funny as this is, I need to know this stays in this room. At least about me and Declan.”
“At least until I remember my bloody bride’s name,” Luca adds, which earns him another round of chuckles.
Matteo looks around, his expression torn between wide-eyed awe and boyish mischief. “So you want me to keep quiet, huh? What, you want me to swear over a blood oath or something?”
Declan leans forward then, grin sharp but his tone suddenly heavier, carrying that quiet authority that makes grown men twice his size straighten up. “No blood oath needed. Just know if you say anything, I’ll make sure you won’t make it to study hall for a month.”
The threat hangs there. Dark. Serious.
And damn it all—scary yet sexy.
I look over at Declan, the fire in me cooling as I take in the sight of note cards and sticky notes plastered across the walls. My chest tightens, not with anger anymore, but with something closer to shame for assuming the worst.
I married a good man and I almost didn’t recognize it.
“So, studying. That’s all you were doing? No slutty skanks hanging all over your penis?”
Declan doesn’t snap back or bristle. He just pulls me in, grounding me instantly, and presses a steady kiss against my mouth. My shoulders sag with relief as he pulls back just enough to whisper, “No slutty skanks, Señora Agassi.”
His grin is soft, satisfied, and then he kisses the tip of my nose, soothing every jagged edge of my doubt.
Eslin throws up her hands. “So we’re standing here all greased up and ready to fight fornothing?”
Declan glances past me to my girls, still in their backup fight gear, then back at me. “Greased up?”
I shake my head, this time with a breathy laugh instead of rage. “Don’t even ask.”
“Noted,” he says. “Did you bring the town car or the SUV?” he asks.
“The SUV brought me. Why?”
He kisses me again, slower this time, and when he leans back, his grin is easier, lighter. “Well, wife, I kind of like you being jealous.Showing up with your own little hit squad, ready to tear this place apart just because you thought some woman was near me.”
His eyes soften, even as his voice dips rough. “Where I come from, that wins a man’s heart before anything else.”
