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“I don’t think I like your tone.”
“What tone?”
Joy’s eyes narrowed. They were in public, but she lifted onto her toes, pulling Malachi down to whisper in his ear, “Are you begging to be punished, demon boy?”
“What if I am, little tiger?” Malachi husked against her throat.
Joy pressed a tiny kiss against the “v” at the base of his throat. He trembled, his arms wrapping around her.
“I love you,” he said. He said it all the time—had confessed that he always said the words when he was thinking or feeling them. Which was,again,practically all the time.
She kissed him, uncaring of their audience; Nigerians really didn’t do PDA, especially in front of other people, but Joy didn’t care. She imagined how Malachi might react when she enacted her plan, and it filled her stomach immediately with butterflies because she knew—she justknewwhat his response would be.
God. Joy wasn’t going to wait. Fuck waiting until after the white wedding, even though that was literally in two days.
She wanted Malachi now, and she intended to have him. Now, and forever.
Joy was hiding something. It wasn’t just in the shifty edge to her scent, or the rapid thump of her heartbeat;it was the way she kept biting her lower lip and glancing at him from the corner of her eye like he wouldn’t notice; the way she kept cracking her knuckles, one by one, over and over again until he’d had to place his hand on top of hers to make her stop.
After the dancing and spraying of money, they all ate, the eldersin the bride’s familyaccepted the gifts brought from the groom’s family, broke some kola nuts in half and recited more prayers, then the bride and groom were danced out of the house.
Joy disappeared to the bathroom at some point. When she returned, she was practically glowing, trembling with barely concealed excitement. Like the rest of the women, she was dressed in traditional Isoko attire; an intricately wrapped headscarf around her head that resembled the shape of a rose, a glittery pale blue blouse made with fine lace and chiffon, and dark purple velvet wrappers with silvery designs at the bottom hems. In her hand, she held a small, silver clutch.
She came up to him, beaming.
“I love you,” Malachi couldn’t help but say, because he did. He wondered if she’d ever tire of him blurting it out at every moment, but every single time, she reacted like it was the first time.
“I love you, too,” she said, still vibrating.
Malachi held out his arm, smiling fondly. “Are you ready?”
She slid her fingers intothe dip ofhis elbow. “Yes.”
They walked a bit aways from the crowd before Malachi let them morph through the aether, appearing in Joy’s flat where they usually spent most of their time. His castle in Mmuo had become some kind of home away from home, where they went when they wanted to be completely shut out from the rest of the world, doing nothing but making love, hand-feeding each other, and devouring his book and film library.
Just as they appeared in the flat, Malachi’s phone vibrated with a text. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the message.
“Klaus needs me for something,” he said, looking at Joy.
“Okay,” Joy said innocently.
Malachi’s second eyebrow joined the first.“No protests about the time? Or how we’ve just come from a wedding and we’re exhausted and whatever they have to say to me can wait until tomorrow?”
“Nope. You go on ahead,” Joy said cheerfully. “Are you hungry? I can order something for when you get back.”
Malachi’s eyes narrowed. “I’m onto you.”
“Sure,” Joy drawled.
Sometimes, Malachi almost couldn’t stand how much he loved her.
“Fine. I’m going. I love you.”
“Love you, too! Take your time!”
“Okay, now Iknowyou’re up to something.”
“Uh-huh.” Joy laughed, pecking him quick and firm on his lips. “Bye-bye, now.”
