Page 37 of Rolling 75 (The Noire Brothers #1)

“Yep.” Tessa nods, suppressing a grin. “Just like Sulley.”

Playing along, I bite into the beignet with an exaggerated chomp, which wins me favor with my little man.

After gulping that bite down, I flash Tessa a syrupy, no-teeth grin. “I wouldn’t be so quick to dismiss feelings. There is something special about a person knowing all your moods. If you find the right guy, you could share rage. Hate intimacy could be enjoyable. Or infuriating.”

She smirks. “Worth a shot. I don’t mind inflicting feelings.”

Me: Satisfied?

Ryker: I plan to be tonight. Go pick out a dress that will look stunning on the floor.

“All right, let’s get started and eat afterward when you work up an appetite.” Amy rises, rounds the table, and corrals me into the bedroom. “I gave you a bunch to try, and then we can narrow it down by style and go from there.”

Since I’m assuming there are no cameras in there because watching me undress without my permission is a step too far, even for Ryker, I oblige her, if only to get a break.

Before I get started, I drop one of the dresses on the floor, snap a picture, and send it to Ryker.

Me: How’s that working for ya?

His response is immediate.

Ryker: It’s not shredded enough for my liking.

It’s both maddening and invigorating that he can always match everything I sling at him. Frustration needles beneath my skin, so I abandon our conversation and indulge in some extravagant shopping.

The third gown I try on is striking and elegant in a mermaid style. As I’m toying with the zipper, Remy bursts into the room.

“I find you, Mama.” His announcement rings out like a hide-and-seek triumph.

Carefully stooping down before him, I tickle his little belly. “How did you find me? I’m the best hider there ever was.”

He puffs up his chest. “I’m the best seeker ever was.”

I scan his innocent face, his wide hazel eyes and plump cheeks, the joy that pervades my hollow aches. “That you are, sweet pea.”

He studies me right back, his chubby hands cupping my jaw. “Ryker-friend makes you smile.”

I’m not sure why that mows me over, whether it be the use of Ryker-friend —a name earned because Ryker promised him they’d be friends forever—or the fact that Ryker has made me smile enough that Remy noticed. Beautiful and tragic, all at once. How often had he wished I was smiling before?

Smothering the inferno of emotion burning through me, I lift his shirt and kiss his belly, drawing more giggles out of him. “You make me smile.”

“I know.” He beams proudly.

His proclamation pacifies the nagging, intrusive thought that plagues me— I’m failing him.

Banishing that defeatist mindset, I change it. I’m fighting every day for him. He feels it.

Tessa waltzes in, scooping Remy into her arms. “You did a good job, little man. I knew you’d find Mama.”

My phone pings from the bed, and both of us glance that way as I rise and flatten the dress.

“Amy is on a call.” She peers out the cracked-open door, revealing that she used Remy as a reason to bust in here while Amy was preoccupied. Her green-blue eyes float back to me. “Your feelings don’t have to make sense to anyone else. It’s okay if things are complicated.”

Tessa is an unexpected gift. We’ve had lunch together every day this past week. Amy joined us twice, and Emma met us once. Having girlfriends is new—at least post Dalton.

Tessa is becoming the closest friend I’ve had in a long time.

I’m not sure why she recognizes my demons.

It’s probably not for a good reason. Neither of us shares details of our stories.

The strength is in an unspoken understanding.

I’m grateful to have her here—part of La Lune Noire without being overly enmeshed with the Noires.

I nod, fighting the tears threatening to spill, and grant her and Remy one of the smiles he yearns for. “You know what will be complicated? Dancing in this dress.”

“That’s for sure. No Charleston or swing moves in a floor-length gown.” She rocks Remy on her hip. “Mama looks pretty though, huh?”

He reaches for the beaded cap sleeve, brushing his fingers over the texture. “Bootiful.”

“Thank you, baby boy.” With a peck on my little guy’s cheek, I usher them out of the room so I can try on some others and check my phone.

No matter how mad I am, I can’t seem to completely ignore Ryker.

I’m furious about how he handled everything, the deceitfulness he used to lure and cage me here, but there’s still an ache in my chest due to how tormented he’s been since finding me on that floor.

When he realized that Dalton and I had been fighting about him that night, I watched him crumble before my eyes.

In my anger, I unleashed the truth that was one of the main reasons I had run in the first place. I never wanted him to know.

Ryker: When you realize what I have to show you, you’re going to feel guilty about how difficult you’re being. I’m trying to make this right.

After swapping the mermaid gown for a shapeless fringe dress that hides my figure and finally another that hugs my curves but isn’t my style, I can’t resist answering him.

Me: I’ve already seen the magic cross. And here we are.

Ryker: Not what I was referring to, although I have some other revelations in that arena too.

What the hell does that mean? What else is there?

And why is that working? All I can think about is his stupid pierced cock, how he twitched and swelled and exploded in my mouth, and that he’s the kind of man who throws his custom-made suit jacket on the ground for my knees, issues an order, and tells me he’s going to brand my throat.

All before he proceeds to lower himself to the floor to worship me. Good God.

The flash of that scene has me nearly as high as I was in that safe room. My flesh heats with the phantom sensation of his touch as his three dots prance.

Ryker: You’re drooling. Now isn’t the time. Get your mind out of the gutter, Viper.

Me: There are no cameras in here.

Ryker: Don’t need them. I know my filthy girl.

I flop onto the bed, hating that he knows me so well and that my heart pitter-patters faster at his use of my girl , with or without the filthy .

Ryker: How much longer?

After a quick knock and my unenthusiastic permission, Amy pops her pretty face in, her blue eyes narrowed. “That one’s not working?”

Surveying the flapper dress, I shake my head. “I’m not loving the firework shape of the sequins. But I do like the tassels.”

With that information in her arsenal, she disappears again, and I sit frozen, soaking in the peace of him not knowing my progress.

Ryker: Mercy?

Me: All day. I think I might get a massage.

Ryker: I am about thirty seconds away from coming down there and hauling your fine ass back here myself.

Me: Do it, and you’ll be minus one tonight. I haven’t even chosen a dress.

Ryker: Did you try on the one I’d picked out for you?

That weasels into my heart, much like he probably assumed it would.

It’s hard to stay outraged at a person who takes care of everything.

And he does. For both Remy and me. Even this past week and a half, when I’ve been distant, he’s remained patient, made sure my every need was attended to, reassured me that he was always there for me, and spent extra time with Remy.

He even managed to calm Remy during a tantrum when my little guy was melting down from exhaustion and I was at my wits’ end. I’ve never had that type of support.

Still, vexation regarding all the liberties he’s taken snakes around me.

Me: No.

Ryker: Tell Amy if she doesn’t give you that one next, she’s fired.

Me: I’m sorry. I’m going through a tunnel. The reception is terrible.

That will make him certifiable. I’m almost giddy, watching the dots appear and disappear.

Ryker: Nice. Too lazy to fabricate an excuse that makes sense, Counselor? Weak.

He’s baiting me, but I will not bite.

After sixty seconds of my silence, he attempts again.

Ryker: Word around the resort is that I starved myself and got down on my hands and knees to get you here. Any idea how that rumor started?

That’s why Amy mentioned the methods Ryker used to lure me back here.

And the happiness keeps on coming. What I would’ve done to be there when that rumor reached him. It’s a mild penance for asking me to spy on one cabal on behalf of another that I was unwittingly a member of.

Two minutes pass before Amy sails into the room behind Tessa and Remy, a tense grimace on her face.

“I’m not sure if I’m in trouble or you are, but we’ve been given orders.

Ryker texted the following to me: Pack up everything Mercy has looked at, including the dress ( the dress is in all caps).

And send my wife ( my wife is in all caps) home now .

You might have gathered,” she adds, “but now is in all caps.”

Tessa huffs. “That’s some nerve right there. Not even married yet, and he freaking my wife’d you. The man needs a good pegging.”

That has all three of us busting up laughing, which makes Remy cackle too.

My mother is rolling over in her grave.

Amy’s face sobers. “He seems irritated, so I’m going to have all of this sent upstairs and grab the dress he picked. It really is the best. I was saving the big reveal until you tried some others on so you would appreciate how perfect it was. Maybe I shouldn’t—”

“Amy, you’re good. He’s stressed about the event—that’s all. He wants me up there to help with some last-minute details.”

My chest deflates as Amy rushes away, so I turn to Tessa. “I wish you were coming tonight.”

“I’ve got a hot date with this little dude.” She ruffles Remy’s hair before rolling her eyes at me. “Besides, they don’t invite the peasants.”

A humorless laugh falls from my lips as I wave a hand over myself. “Sometimes, they do.”

Remy scurries over to an open area of the room and practices his somersaults, so Tessa sits beside me.

She twirls one of the tassels on my dress around her finger. “I like very few people, so take this as the extraordinary truth it is. You are far from a peasant. Ryker’s a smart man. He knows what he’s chasing. Everything about you screams royalty. And it has nothing to do with the Noires.”

That encouragement bolsters me to be far more vulnerable than I’ve been with anyone in a long time. I swallow my apprehension, hoping she can lend some wisdom. “Have you ever had something good so tangled up with something bad that you couldn’t separate them?”

No hesitation. “Yes.”

My thumb skates over the underside of my champagne diamond ring, the weight of it so much greater than before. “What did you do?”

She pops her shoulder. “I put him on my list.”

“And then?” I press because I’m sure that won’t work for me.

She hums, considering her answer. “That’s as far as I’ve gotten. For now.”

I blow out a choppy breath, unable to hide my disappointment. “Oh.”

She takes my hand. “But that’s not your story. Deep down, you know where you belong. The days of people stealing your joy are over. Off the traitors or anyone who gets in your way and claim your damn throne.”