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“How many bodyguards?” she questions, pressing her finger into my chest. I want to bite it and hear her whimper, knowing her pussy would start flooding.
“As many as it takes to keep you safe. Normally, it’s three.”
“Three? That’s a lot.”
“Apparently not enough,” her father grumbles, pointing at the fucking bruise on her arm that tears at my heart. The damn marks shouldn’t be tarnishing her fair skin.
“It won’t happen again,” I grumble.
“Enough of the heavy. Let’s eat lunch before my shift starts,” her mother says. I’ve always liked her, even if she’d let Jilly Bean date at sixteen. Granted, my men and I never let that come to fruition, however, it was an option.
We eat, and they mention the wedding date. “Next week.”
Jillian’s head whips toward me so fast, she’s going to need the medics again. “What?”
“Yes. Like you said—we’ve wasted too much time already, so what’s there to lose? Besides, I’ve had most of it laid out and if you had stayed in the office, we would have filled out the information for the marriage license and gone over my will.”
“What? I thought…”
“You thought what?”
She pushes away from the table. I reach out and take her hand. “No, don’t do that, Jillian. We have a problem; we need to talk it out. No running, and no fighting.”
“I thought you were having me sign a prenup.”
“Oh, so that’s where that bullshit with Frankie came from.”
“Look at me, and listen to me well. I’ve worked hard up until now to build a future for us. Without you, without us, there is no future. I don’t give a damn about the money if I don’t have you in my life, Jillian.”
“You mean that?”
“Of course I do. Money is the last thing I’d ever want to debate with you. Say you’ll marry me, Jillian.”
“I’ll marry you…next week.”
“Thank you.” I scoop her up in my arms and then wave her parents off. “Have a good one.”
“Don’t forget to call us and give us the details,” her mother shouts as we reach the front door. All I care about is getting her home and completely naked. Now that we’ve cleared up that misunderstanding, I have plans for my sweet woman that involve a lot of make-up sex and then maybe some just plain old-fashioned celebratory sex.
I sit her in the passenger seat and drive, a bit perturbed that I sent my men home in a vehicle together instead of having them wait for me. There’s no chance to properly seduce her. We’ll have to wait until we cross the motherfucking threshold before I get my hands under her skirt.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault that Johnson’s a fucking animal.”
“I was talking about running away.”
“Yeah, I suppose I should have told you why I wanted Thorne there. After all, what else would engaged couples need a lawyer for while prepping for a wedding?”
“Exactly. That’s what Cynthia said.”
“What? She’s lucky she’s quitting or I’d fire her.”
“It’s not her fault. I brought it up.”
“You’re right. It’s just…I’m afraid of losing you, and today, that was almost the case.”
“I’ll be a little more careful.”
