“So drama. Got it. Tell your brother I think he’s a solid guy, and I hope it works out.”
“We’ll see. Guy can’t seem to get the fuck over himself some days. I mean, just because you had some bad shit happen in your past, it doesn’t mean that has to be your future, right?”
I wasn’t touching that comment with a ten-foot pole, and I didn’t have to, because we’d reached my house. “You good?”
“Yeah. I’m good. Thanks for letting me vent.” He gave me the nod and then took off across the street toward his house.
“Women are trouble,” I said to Cerberus, who promptly jumped up my leg. “Hey, no. We can’t do that. Four on the floor, bud.” I set him down like the dog-training video suggested and gave him the I’m-the-alpha-pack-leader stare that was supposed to magic him into submission or some shit.
He whined at me, and I rolled my eyes as we headed into the house.
Elton John sang about a yellow brick road from the kitchen, and my smile was instant. Persephone was home. I unclipped Cerberus’s leash and urged him on. “Go find her.”
He took off like a shot, skidding on the hardwood and nearly missing the turn into the kitchen. I cringed, but he made it. Barely.
“Hi, Cerberus! Did you have a good walk with Daddy? Mommy missed you all day!”
God, I loved the sound of her voice filling the house, the feeling I got just knowing she was here. I felt…complete, at peace, even.
I turned the corner into the kitchen and saw Persephone on her knees, holding Cerberus on her lap as he tried to lick her face to death. His tail wagged at a mile a minute. Hell, if I had a tail, it would wag every time I saw my wife.
Wife. Sure, we were married now, but in eleven days, we’d be saying I do all over again in front of our friends and family, and this time we’d remember it.
“How was work?” I asked, setting the leash on the counter.
“Hey, stranger.” She smiled at me, and I swore the entire room lit up. She put Cerberus on the floor, and then rose. “You looked good against Denver. That second period goal in game three was hot.”
“You watched me?” I pulled her into my arms and felt the off-kilter pieces of me click back into place. We never talked about hockey when we called during road trips, and lately, Cerberus—and whatever he’d recently destroyed—had been the hot topic. It definitely warmed my chest to think she watched when I wasn’t home.
“Of course.” She wound her arms around my neck. “Now kiss me. I’ve missed you.”
I lowered my mouth to hers and kissed her deep. Fuck, she tasted like the little lemon candies she kept on her desk at home. Her sheath dress was too form-fitted for her to wrap her legs around my waist, so I put one forearm under her ass and lifted straight up against me. Her feet dangled as she threw herself into the kiss.
My hand tunneled into her French twist, and I pulled the long, singular pin I’d often seen her secure the hairstyle with. Her hair tumbled free, cascading down my arm, and I groaned at the feel of it, her hair, her tongue, her mouth, her skin—all of it.
“I missed you, too,” I finally said against her mouth when I found the willpower to stop kissing her.
Her thumbs stroked over my cheeks. “You’re away next weekend, too?”
I nodded. “We can see if the hotel is dog-friendly, and you and Cerberus could come,” I offered. Being away from her was pure shit. I was always distracted, wondering what she was doing, if she was okay, or just plain missing her.
She smiled, then kissed me softly. “That sounds like a plan.” Cerberus whined, and we both looked down at him. “Jealous little thing.”
I set her down reluctantly and then got to the business that had become our ordinary life. She fed the puppy, and I started dinner for us while she got changed from work.
I’d just finished searing the steaks when she came back into the kitchen in a pair of tiny shorts and an off-the-shoulder sweatshirt. I loved her dresses, her suits, and her lingerie, but fuck, there was something about seeing her this casual—knowing I was the only one who did, that got me turned on faster than anything.
“What can I do to help?” she asked, just like she did every night.
“Want to set the table?” I suggested, just like I did every night.
Persephone might have been an amazing cookie-baker, but the woman was not a cook. Growing up with a team of chefs had left the woman clueless in most areas of the kitchen, but it didn’t bother me. I liked cooking for her. There was something primal about feeding my wife that gave me an irrational sense of satisfaction.
“You got it.” She smacked my ass as she walked by, and I grinned as I finished everything up.
After dinner, we tag-teamed the cleanup, which took a little longer with Cerberus underfoot. The guy always wanted to be in the middle of the action.
“You seem pretty relaxed,” I remarked as she put the leftover steak into the fridge.
“Compared to?” she asked.
“Compared to most brides eleven days before their wedding.” I leaned back against the counter. “Lillian was a fucking train-wreck at this point, yelling at vendors, sobbing when the bridesmaids’ dresses came in all wrong. You name it, she was stressed.”
Persephone shut the fridge and then came over to me. “Well, we have an excellent wedding planner who’s doing all the screaming for me. Besides, we’re already married, so I guess that takes a lot of the stress out, too.” She shrugged, then hopped up on the counter across from me. “Plus, if that marriage only lasted six months, then she married the wrong man. Maybe it’s supposed to feel like this when it’s right.”
I swallowed. More and more, she used words like right and love, like we weren’t some accident that had happened in Vegas. Like we were going to be something when our timeline ran out, and the only thing that held us together was a piece of paper.
Cerberus yapped, indignant that he wasn’t in Persephone’s lap.
“You really are a big baby,” she crooned at him.
I picked him up and held him in the crook of my arm. “Stop driving her crazy.” Then I gave him rubs until he settled against my chest, sticking his very wet nose in my neck.
“You still like him?” she asked.
“I love him. He is exactly what I’ve always wanted, even if he is pretty much like having a baby. Nathan and I were joking about that earlier.”
She grinned. “Scheduled, coddled, needy, yep. He’s a baby.”
“Do you want kids?” The question was out before I could examine why I’d even asked it. “Sorry if that’s too personal. I’ve never had a relationship or been married, so feel free not to answer it.”
Her smile faded slightly, but a hopeful light shined in those blue eyes. “Yeah, I want kids. A lot of kids. Growing up with Anne was a constant competition. Even if our parents didn’t make it that way, we did, because who better to compare yourself to than your sister who’s only eighteen months older than you are?” She shrugged. “I always thought that if I’d had another sibling, we wouldn’t have gone at each other like it was a race. What about you?”
“I guess I never really thought about it.” I shrugged. “Growing up was more about survival than succeeding, and Lillian and I did our best to get each other out alive. There’s not a lot of competition in that.”