Page 13 of Too Sweet
Chapter 7
Decker
I quietly hover over the pile of them, trying to gauge who may actually still be awake. The room is warm and smells like sex. It also smells like frosting. I wrinkle my nose, confirming I made the right call by relegating myself to the kitchen tonight.
Kendrick’s eyes meet mine through the dark. The others appear to be asleep. He holds my gaze, goading me for not joining them tonight, I’m sure. Then, in silent understanding, he slinks his arm out from under Josephine’s head. I tip my chin appreciatively, leaning forward and running both my hands up her bare thighs.
“Josephine,” I murmur. I keep my voice low, hoping not to wake Locke or Kylian.
She stirs, then sleepily groans, flops onto her stomach, and hooks one leg around Kendrick’s lower half.
This is going to be harder than I thought.
The repressed rumbling through K’s chest shakes Josephine’s body, but she still doesn’t stir. I circle around to his side of thebed. Crouching, I brush the back of my knuckles against her cheek.
“Josephine. Wake up.”
“Go away,” she grumbles.
Kendrick is officially losing it—laughing so hard she’s being dislodged with each shake of his chest.
Annoyed, I take matters into my own hands.
I reach out and lift my wife’s body effortlessly, tucking her into my chest.
“Shh,” I soothe before she can protest. “I want to take you somewhere, Siren. It’s a surprise.”
She cracks one eye open and searches my face, then sighs and rests her cheek against the fabric of my henley. “It better be a good surprise, Cap. It’s late and I’m boneless after—”
“Hush.” This time, the shushing comes out more insistent. I bow down and kiss her, effectively cutting her off. I don’t need a full recap of all the reasons she’s currently boneless.
My possessiveness has been on a steady simmer since the day I fell for this woman. Sharing her with my brothers has been an experiment in tolerance, patience, and introspection.
Not a day passes that I don’t feel the hot jabs of jealousy over our dynamic.
And yet I couldn’t imagine it any other way.
Josephine is happy. My boys are thriving.
If the occasional possessive spike is the price I have to pay to have her in my life, I can learn to live with that. I can, I will, and I do.
The promise that Josephine will always make time for me—even if it’s one minute—is what galvanizes my attitude and warms me from the inside.
I’ve figured out when I need to excuse myself—like tonight—and when I need to get over myself and join in the fun. It makes her so damn happy to have all of us together. The high she feelsfrom “full group activities” puts and extra pep in her step for days.
I’ll never deprive her of that joy. Hell, I’ll never deprive her of anything. Her happiness is my purpose. The desire to make her laugh or to see her smile fuels me in a way football and accolades never could.
“Let’s get you dressed,” I murmur, shifting her in my arms and grabbing for her overnight bag. “You’ll need layers and a jacket. It’s cold tonight.”
Her head pops up with interest. “We’re goingoutside? Why?”
“You’ll see.” I place her gently on her feet. “The faster you get dressed, the faster you’ll get your next surprise.” I gently swat at her ass.
She grins at me over her shoulder, then scurries to the bathroom. But before she closes the door, she turns and shows me her bare backside, giving a little shake of her hips. She catches my gaze and winks—then promptly closes the door.
This girl.
My wife.