Page 65 of The Boss

“Just some self defense? Let me try to fight you off.”

“No. One hit from me and you’ll end up with Seamus stitching you back together. Go to the gym.”

“Ugh, fine,” she grumbles, her flirty tone gone. I watch her stomp out of the dining room. Her tight ass sways at me, just like her long, straight ponytail. Everything about her taunts me. Interests me. Tempts me.

That’s why I’ve tried to avoid her.

It’s been three days since I held her perfect body to my chest in the back of the car. One minute I’m shocked at her insightful suggestion about a weak spot in my defenses, then I’m laughing at her impression, next she’s in my arms and I’m thinking of Mac’s grandma, Tiny’s weird bout of toe fungus, anything unappealing to keep my dick from tenting out my pants while she sat next to me in the backseat.

Then I got home to the menace and did she leave a list of books for Sheila? No.

She wrote on lipstick in my bathroom mirror,Hubby, I need a new copy ofThe Art of Warby Sun Tzu.She asks for a damn strategy book,then put her sweet, pouty lips on the mirror next to it, a perfect kiss mark. Which made my dick twitch.

Lipstick on a mirror.

God help me.

Physically leaving has been easy, since we have a lot going on. Two different teams are trying to track down who shot Collin. It was an organized, professional hit made to look like a bunch of street thugs. So who was the real puppet master behind the scenes?

The Russians? Mac and I are personally trying to drill down whispers about an upcoming attack from them at one of our safe houses. I called Mancini senior and asked for his best men. I’m sure my wife will be thrilled to see Zeno soon, since they seemclose. He better be as good a soldier for me as he is a friend to her.

Fucking Russians.

It’s one damn warehouse I need, and it’s on the Sound, not technically in their New York territory. You’d think I was trying to move into their HQ.

Annoying.

But as much as we have to sort through each day when we leave, my mind stays behind on the property. Every morning, before I leave, Luna catches me and asks to spar. I want to say yes, she’s so eager. Luna as her true self, wanting to learn, to fight. I respect that.

Each time it gets harder to say no. She asked me again last night when we arrived back just in time for dinner. She’s so damn relentless.

I wish she was truly on my team, then I could let her loose on my enemies.

I sigh so loudly as we walk out the door, Mac perks up next to me and asks, “Honeymoon phase is over, eh, boss?”

I chuckle, “Hm, let’s go.”

As if we ever had a honeymoon phase.

As if we’ve ever had anything real together.

As if I have time to sit here wallowing, pining after what could be with my own damn wife.

I shake my head and get ready to lead my men back out into the wild.

•••••

“Just once, just fuckingonceI’d like a witness to have actually seen something!” Mac grouses again as we walk into the house hours later.

I grunt in agreement. We thought we had a lead on the crew who shot his brother, but the guy admitted he actually didn’t see shit. He was just trying to impress us and maybe get recruited.

It’s almost nine but Sheila greets us in the foyer, “Heard you all didn’t eat. Saved some chicken.”

“You’re an angel, cousin,” Mac says as he redirects his steps from the stairs back to the kitchen. I follow, as do the three guys who went with us for this raid that turned out to be a bust.

I sit at the table and start digging into the big plates of leftovers Sheila left out on the table for us. Hearing us arrive, men come in to ask questions, commiserate. The dining hall is half full in just a few minutes. As is her motherly custom, Shae decides if the hall is full she needs to put out more food so she and Sheila appear with cartons of ice cream, bowls and spoons.

“Hey, look who it is, up and around!” someone yells.