AllFreeNovel
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Even if it costs me my relationship freedom. Hell, before we got married, she mentioned more than once she’d run away, and eventually, I could divorce her. Or we could even have it annulled. Her leaving would break all sorts of clauses in the contract and her father would probably have to pay my mother an outrageous amount of money, but would it really matter to him, beyond the humiliation? Not like the payment would hurt him.
The man is worth billions.
At least Charlotte would be free.
But as I stare at her while she scoops up ceviche with a giant tortilla chip, shoving it into her mouth and humming her approval, I don’t know if I want her to run away from me anymore.
I want to keep her.
Exhaling, I reach for my drink and slam it down, needing the alcohol to clear my head. I’m thinking like a crazy man. I can’tkeepher. She’s not something I can own, not really. Charlotte is a human being with thoughts and feelings and opinions who can exert her free will in any way she wants. I may get all territorial with her, but in the end, I will never make her do something she doesn’t want to do.
Like stay with me.
If she hates me that much, if she feels the need to flee that strongly, I’ll let her go.
I’m not a dick.
“You’re so quiet tonight,” she observes.
I glance up to find her watching me, her blue eyes wide and unblinking. Swear to God her hair is blonder and her eyes are brighter against her golden skin. That pink dress fits her to perfection and my gaze drops to her chest. The tops of her tits. I want to touch her there. Kiss her there.
“Are you tired?” she asks when I still haven’t said anything.
“A little,” I admit.
The disappointment is clear on her pretty face. She’s not wearing much makeup, which I prefer. She was beautiful at our wedding, but I like her natural. With her guard down and her face clean. Her lips are pink and glossy and I think that’s the only cosmetics she has on.
“You’ll probably want to go to bed early,” she says.
I stare at her. She must be out of her mind.
“Probably not.”
A smile curves her lips and she grabs another tortilla chip, dunking it into the ceviche before she pops it into her mouth. “Tell me about cars,” she says after she’s swallowed.
Unease filters through me and I shift in my seat. No one else cares about me and cars. I raced in secret, never telling my mother or siblings. Winston found out by accident after I quit, and he was furious. Claimed I had a million-dollar life insurance policy on my head and our enemies could’ve found out and killed me.
I couldn’t help but think hey, at least they could’ve gotten a cool mill for my death, but I decided that wouldn’t be the best thing to say to my brother at the time.
“What do you want to know?”
“How you started street racing. That’s so—random.” She wrinkles her nose, looking adorable. “Though after watching you surf earlier, I’m realizing that you enjoy participating in…reckless activities.”
“Aw, do you disapprove, wife?” I’m teasing her.
“I don’t disapprove, it was just scary, watching you out there. You didn’t have a lot of experience surfing yet you approached those waves as if you’ve been doing it your entire life,” she says.
“I wasn’t that good.” I really wasn’t. I think I made her panic, is all.
“The surfing doesn’t matter. Tell me about the cars. And racing.”
I lean back in my chair, contemplating how much I want to tell her. It’s hard to part with your secrets when you’ve held them so close for so long.
“It began a few years ago. Even before I got the Chevelle. I was hanging out with these guys I went to high school with and they would go watch this giant group of illegal street racers. They’d announce the location where the races would happen via social media and all in code. Always in the middle of the night, when the streets were mostly empty and the cops wouldn’t be around,” I explain.
“So you started out watching.”
“And knew immediately I wanted to race,” I tell her. “I got to know some of the guys, and eventually, they let me join them. First race I participated in, I won.”
