Page 30 of Parker

Chapter twenty-three

Joel it was rage.

The candles still flickered, but one by one, they were going out.

***

Joel pads into the living room and my mind snaps back to now.

We’ve been sleeping in separate bedrooms since my release from the hospital a month ago. Since his revelations the day I came home, neither of us has mentioned the business, or what he kept hidden from me. We exist around each other.

He watches me like a hawk, like he’s terrified I’ll run. After what he told me, I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I’m horrified. And I have no idea how to get out.

“Nicky,” he says, quietly. “Can we talk?”

“Sure,” I mumble, eyes staying fixed on the floor.

He’s in loose jogging bottoms and no shirt. Tousled hair. Defined abs. He looks edible.

As much as I want to hate him, I can’t. He’s still the man I fell in love with. The baggage was always there; I just never saw it.

“If you want to leave me…” His voice cracks. “I can make it happen.”

Confused, I stare at him blankly.

“Things are dangerous in the city. Every night, one of our men is being attacked by the Worths. Here, at home, you’re secure. But out there? I can’t keep you safe.”

My heart strains with each word.

“I understand if you don’t want me or this life. I can make you disappear. A fresh start. Somewhere up north or abroad. Anywhere. Just say the word. I can’t go on living in this house and not being able to touch you. It’s killing me.”

He kneels between my legs as I sit on the sofa, steady hands tight on my thighs.

“Nicky, please. I know I’m not the man you thought you married, but believe me when I tell you, I love you.” He places his head in my lap and wraps his arms around my waist. “Accept me, warts and all. Or go. Don’t torture me with silence anymore. I beg you. I can’t take it.”

“You hurt me,” I whisper. “Your enemies killed our child. I’m in a war I never agreed to. A war I didn’t even know was being fought.”

He looks up at me with tears in his eyes.

My heart fractures. The thought of being without him is unbearable. My life before him was tragic, with no love or hope.

Resigning myself to what I already know in my bones, I state, “Never lie to me again. I need to know everything—what’s happening, what I’m involved in, where the danger lies. I want the truth. Always.”

“You’re not leaving?” he says in disbelief.

I shake my head. “No. I’m not leaving. But don’t lie to me again,” I warn. “It’ll take time to trust you.”

He rises, cupping my face.

“That night…” My voice breaks. “I was going to tell you about the baby,”

“I know,” he says, his mouth twisting into a grim line. “You’ll never forgive me for bringing this evil to our door. But please, let me try. Let me make you happy again.”

“With you, happy or broken-hearted, is where I’m meant to be.”

Our lips connect. His tears mix with mine. And in that moment, we begin to find our way back to each other.

“I want to be a mother. That night was meant to be the best of our lives.”

Standing, he takes my hands. I rise without question. He scoops me into his arms, and I wrap my legs around his waist. His body is warm and solid.

“Let’s go to bed,” he whispers. “I need to be inside you tonight. We need this. It won’t bring back what we lost.” Soft lips touch my forehead. “But maybe, together, we can create something new.”

Tears sting my eyes as I press a kiss to his neck. “Take me to bed. Make me a mother.”

He carries me, climbing the stairs slowly, claiming my mouth at every step. My nipples harden against his chest, my body aching to be touched.

In our room, he lays me down on the bed and retreats to the bathroom. I wriggle from the silk pajamas I’m wearing and slide beneath the covers, my heart pounding.

When he returns, he’s naked, his dark eyes filled with want.

He sits on the edge of the bed and strokes my hair gently. Then, slowly, he pulls back the covers, exposing my breasts to the cool air. His lips drop to my nipples. He teases them with his tongue, moving from one to the other. My hands slip into his hair, pulling him closer.

“Joel,” I murmur, softly, “come to bed.”

He lifts the covers, sliding beneath them to join me. Propped up on his elbow, he gazes down.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs. “From the first moment we met, I knew. You were all I saw.”

He kisses my cheek, then my jaw. “I’m sorry for everything I dragged you into. But I don’t regret choosing you. I could never live without you.”

His hand moves lower, circling my clit with practiced fingers, before slipping one inside. I moan softly, hips lifting to meet his touch.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, sliding in a second finger as I gasp.

“Joel…” I breathe, and he groans in response.

“Tonight, I’m claiming every part of you. We’ll carry each other through this war, through everything. And if we’re lucky…” He lowers himself between my legs. “We’ll make a life tonight.”

He hooks my legs over his shoulders and enters me slowly, carefully. I gasp at the stretch, and he stills, allowing my body time to adjust. When I relax, he begins to move—deep, steady, powerful.

“Look at me,” he whispers, catching my gaze. “Don’t look away. I need to watch you.” I meet his eyes, and he smiles, soft and sure. He leans down and presses a kiss to my nose. “I love you, Nicky.”

And then he moves again. Anchored in love, in grief, in the quiet promise of something more.

Later, exhausted and sated, we lie tangled in the dark. Joel woke me again and again through the night. Each time more tender than the last, it’s as if he’s trying to rewrite the pain with pleasure.

Between the whispered kisses and soft moans, we talk. About his family. About the business. The danger. The secrets he hid. I know he hasn’t told me everything, but it’s enough.

There’s a change in him. A shift.

My husband has hardened. There is no more denial. He’s stepped fully into his role.

He’s the head of a dangerous family now. And I’m in bed with him…with my eyes wide open.