You’re different.
I can’t stop thinking about those two words. I’m not sure what to make of them. Then again, it’s difficult to read Warren. I make up my own narratives in my mind about him. I’m always trying to make them sweet. I should really lay off of the romance books because Warren was right: I am naïve, especially when it comes to him.
I turn my head slightly to peek over at my now husband. This whole thing has been a whirlwind since I woke up this morning. We’d been going nonstop. The next thing I knew, I was walking down the aisle to Warren. I was thankful the vows were short and to the point.
When Warren leaned in for the kiss, he surprised me by only kissing the side of my mouth. It felt awkward when everyone clapped for us. There were about fifty people at the wedding. I didn’t know anyone except for Warren’s family and my own. I was thrilled to see Cosima, Warren’s sister. I don’t think she’s been back in over a year.
“Yes, I’m still staring.” Warren catches me sneaking a peek over at him.
“Why?”
“Because I won’t be able to when we enter the reception.” We’re waiting to be formally introduced as a married couple. Everyone is taking their seats now.
Giant tents have been put up for the reception. They sure as heck don’t appear like tents. Inside, chandeliers hang from the ceilings, and flowers coat everything. They’ve made them look like fancy ballrooms. I haven’t a clue how our moms and Warren put this all together in such a short time. I guess when the sky’s the limit when it comes to money, there aren’t any obstacles to get in your way.
“Is it forbidden?” I tease.
Warren’s arm is around my waist. He guides me to face him, his hold tightening around me. Our bodies are pressed together.
“It should be forbidden.” Warren leans down, pressing his mouth to mine. At first it’s only a brush, but it quickly changes. My fingers dig into the front of his suit as he deepens the kiss, his tongue thrusting into my mouth. I let out a small moan that he matches with his own groan. When he lifts his head, I gasp to catch my breath. The last few times he’s kissed me, I felt this greedy possessiveness coming from him. Warren might not be giving me words of love, but the way he kisses me says a lot on its own.
“I’m not forbidden anymore.”
“You’re my wife.” His eyes appear a darker blue. His eyes also convey a sense of possessiveness.
‘Are you okay?’ I find myself asking him.
‘Are you worried about me?’
‘I suppose. If you drop dead, they might make me marry Ronan or Z next,’ I say with a laugh. Warren’s hold on me turns rigid. A coldness ripples down my spine. ‘I was joking.’
‘Don’t,’ he clips, releasing me from his tight hold.
“Warren.” He takes my hand.
“It’s time.” He nods toward where two men are waiting to open the doors for us to enter.
“But—” I try to explain.
“We’ll discuss this later.”
“Right.” Because we do everything on his terms. How could I forget? God forbid I try to apologize on my own terms.
The two men pull back the curtains for us to enter. Everyone stands up and claps. It’s awkward, and I fight not to fidget and keep my chin up. Warren guides me over to our table, pulling out a chair for me. I give my mom a reassuring smile.
When the champagne glass in front of me is filled, I pick it up and take a big sip. Warren releases my hand, moving his to my thigh under the table. It’s an innocent touch, but it makes warmth bloom deep in my stomach, remembering that day in his office. How he’d made me come against the door.
That had been another one of those times Warren felt greedy for me. It made me feel powerful and sexy. He has a way of doing that, but then it slips through my fingers, making me wonder if I’d imagined it all.
‘When they’re done with the toasts, their attention will turn to the booze and food,’ Warren says next to my ear. I again peek over at him.
‘We’ll have to do the cake and dance stuff too. Right?’
‘Not if you don’t want to.’
‘Really?’
‘I’ll tell them all to fuck off.’ And they would without question.
‘You can’t tell our mothers to fuck off.’
Warren’s expression says otherwise. He would do exactly that.
‘Please do not speak to my mom that way or yours, for that matter.’
‘Then I won’t.’
‘It’s that simple?” I ask.
‘Generally. I can be reasonable.’
‘Oh, really?’ A small laugh leaves me.
‘I try, but I suppose I’m not fully reasonable with you.’
‘Because I’m different?’
‘You are.’
‘Sometimes I don’t know whether you’re being a jerk or sweet.’ I’ve found that it’s easier to just say how I’m feeling when it comes to Warren.
‘Which would you prefer?’ His lips twitch, and I swear he almost smirked. Almost.
‘Sweet.’ I nudge him with my elbow. Warren grips my chin, turning me to fully face him.
‘Are you sure, little mouse?’ There is that glint in his eyes. It only stokes the heat building in my core. I swallow. Do I enjoy it when he’s a jerk? It does drive me crazy, but that doesn’t mean I hate it.
‘I—’ Thankfully, Warren’s mom interrupts me, speaking over everyone to get their attention. I had no clue how to respond to his question because I’m not sure of the answer myself.
“You’re saved for now,” Warren says, releasing his hold on my chin. When I glance back out to the crowd, I notice everyone is watching us and not Rochelle, who has started a toast. There is a mix of expressions from everyone. Even Warren’s sister, Cosima, is studying the two of us.
A few more people stand up to give us well wishes. I sip on my champagne. It slowly starts to relax me.
“What will it be?” Warren asks as they start to serve dinner. “I had them make sure the ceremony was quick for you.”
“You did?”
Warren shrugs. “I know this isn’t what you wanted.” I glance down at my lap. That’s not true. At least at one time this had been a dream of mine. “But if you wish, one day I’ll give you the wedding you deserve.” I nod, choked with emotion. These are the little things he says that pull me into him. That make me think my first instincts about him weren’t wrong.
“We’ll do the cake and dance.” I pick up my glass and take another sip.
“Eat if you’re going to keep drinking.”
“Are you always going to boss me around?”
“When it comes to your well-being, I can fix it.” Warren picks up his fork and knife, cutting a piece of the steak and bringing it to my mouth. I part my lips and take the bite. Warren’s eyes soften around the sides. He feeds me another bite and then another.
‘War.’ An old man in a fancy suit comes to stand in front of our table. He’s got streaks of gray through his black hair. It makes his flushed red nose and cheeks appear brighter. ‘I missed the engagement party. I apologize.’
‘It’s fine.’ Warren doesn’t spare the man a glance, only feeding me another bite.
‘Your bride—’
‘Is trying to eat her dinner.’
The older man’s overgrown brows lift. I want to sink back in my chair because this is awkward, but it doesn’t faze Warren.
‘My apologies.’
‘It’s okay,’ I tell him. Warren finally turns his head toward the man.
‘My wife is polite. It is not okay. We will greet our guests after dinner.’ The man’s cheeks somehow manage to flush more. I’m sure mine aren’t doing much better.
The man stumbles over his words before fleeing our table. Again, people are watching us. Even my parents.
‘That was harsh,’ I say under my breath, not wanting others to hear.
‘That was far from harsh.’
‘Okay, it was rude.’
‘It was rude of him to disturb us while we enjoyed our wedding dinner.’
I snort a laugh. ‘I don’t know if you’re teasing me or not.’
‘I’ll pick whichever made you laugh.’
‘You can be charming when you want.’ I start to lift my hand to touch his cheek but stop myself.
“Touch me.” I let my fingers trail down his jaw before I cup it. I can feel the roughness of his beard trying to come through. He must have shaved a few hours ago because normally by this time of day he’d have a five o’clock shadow.
Warren leans into my touch.
“Holy shit,” Cosima whispers loudly. Her eyes are wide, fixed on us. I drop my hand. “Sorry.” She sinks back in her chair. Z chuckles, draping his arm over the back of her chair.
I can sense the shift in Warren next to me, a cold wall coming down hard all around him, taking away all the warmth he was giving me.
