Page 59 of When Sinners Hate
She leans on the rail beside me and gazes back into the house. “You didn’t at our wedding.”
My own shot gets downed. “No. Wasn’t in the mood that day.”
“I don’t suppose either of us were who we really are then.” I turn my head to look at her, watching the light bouncing around her face. “Or maybe we just showed the side of us we know best.”
“And how do you like this side of you?”
She frowns and keeps watching the dancing. I turn until I’m in front of her and push her back on the rail, blocking out the view. My hands travel to her hair, taking the clip out for her so I can smooth the wavy locks over her shoulders. “Talk to me. Real, honest talk. How’s my Lexi feeling with my family around her?”
“She’s probably more vulnerable. And you know that.”
I smile and lean in closer, brushing my lips over hers. “You think that’s a bad thing.” My tongue licks across the line on her mouth, teasing it open for me. “It isn’t. Not here, at least.” I pull back and get my hands in behind her ass, shifting her closer to me until she’s off the rail and we’re free to move to the rhythm. “We’re all vulnerable in our own way. Dante needs love despite his ferocity. Knox is searching for validation, constantly. Shaw doesn’t know who he is yet. And Mariana is fighting for her right to be seen, to be heard. But that’s what makes us real. We know each other. We accept each other. We support our faults and turn them into strengths.” She slides her arms around myneck and drapes them there, smiling. “There isn’t one bit of fake-ass bullshit here. Never will be. That includes you.”
She moves and slides her leg between mine, getting her fine ass as comfortable as she knows we can be. “And what about you, Abel? Where’s your vulnerability?”
I push her away and spin her back into me, grabbing hold to make damn sure she knows exactly how well I can move if I choose to. “Well, that might just be you, darlin’.”
We grind and dance, letting the music take us away from words that don’t need to happen anyway. She knows what this is. She can feel it as much as I can, whether she wants to admit it or not. There isn’t a man on the planet who will give her what I can if she makes the right call and becomes one of us. She’ll be as revered as my mother is, as welcome and protected as any of us are, and as valued as a wife of mine should be. That suddenly means a whole lot more to me than it’s done in the past.
Dancing becomes nothing but sexually charged foreplay, and we both stop thinking about anything other than this moment we’re in. We kiss, we grab, we hold. We find pieces of us we’ve barely found yet and we let the booze take us somewhere we need to get to. It’s damn nice. Honesty, it’s something I’ve never had, and something I never thought I’d be bringing into this home, let alone my own. She fits into me like a sweep of fine silk across my skin, damn near matching my own nature. I like it. Every goddamn second of it.
CHAPTER TWENTY
LEXI
Ilook at myself in the mirror, with no makeup, and wince. Partly because my head is throbbing with every inch I move. Tequila certainly isn’t my friend, but there’s a smile on my face all the same. Despite how awful I look and feel, there’s a lightness in my chest, and I’m a little giddy about it.
I work the toothbrush and look over my shoulder at Abel in the shower. The silhouette of his wide shoulders and broad chest is a sight to behold. Despite everything, and after last night, I feel that something might have shifted – that everything he’s said and shown me over the last few days might be real.
It goes against everything I’ve seen and experienced for the entirety of my life. That sceptical feeling and assuming the worst will be ingrained into my very DNA until I die. Yet this morning, it somehow feels like it’s cracked a little. Like maybe there’s a future here that doesn’t need to include revenge and plotting.
My father certainly hasn’t changed. And I know if I choose Ortega now, there’s a risk that any type of vengeance will be short-lived and end with my life being taken.
Abel turns off the water and steps out in front of me, and he brings a smile to the corner of my lips.
“Ready for breakfast?” he asks.
“I feel like shit. Can we not just hide up here?”
“No. Family breakfast is part of the birthday celebrations.”
“Fine. I’ll need some time to pull myself together.”
“You don’t need time. You’re beautiful. You have until I’m ready.” He kisses my head, and I’m shocked that his simple gesture brings emotion to clog in my throat.
Him telling me what to do would usually spark my retort or annoyance, but this morning I accept it. I even feel the compliment he offered inside me, clawing at my heart.
Dressed and ready, he takes my hand in his as we leave my rooms, and we follow the sound of banter. It’s a little more muted than it was last night, but it’s genuine and honest – what a family should be like. We head down and join everyone at the table, and I wait for the frowning glances or suspicious looks, but they don’t come.
“Why don’t you look like you’re suffering like I am?” Mariana whispers to me as I take a seat next to her.
“Oh, my head is pounding, believe me.”
She smiles, and I see a girl I could call sister.
The food last night was delicious, but as I look at the table, I look for waffles and fruit and, instead, see dishes I have no idea about.
“Abel?” I turn my head away from the table. “Where are all the breakfast things?”