Mr & Mrs Read online

  I know we can’t replace her sister and parents, but we can come in a close second best if I set things up right. So that’s what I’m gonna do. Not make her forget her past, but replace it with something better. “Hey,” I say, my chest filling with love for this girl who decided to turn my world upside down. “I have a better idea…”

  I pull her close, my hand slipping up inside her tank top.

  “Not here.” She giggles.

  “Then where?” I ask. “Back at the bungalow?”

  “No,” she says, still laughing. “I’m not a prude, Mr. Match.” Which makes me laugh, because no. She is most definitely not a prude. “I don’t need to be under the covers in the dark. We can do it anywhere but in your brother-in-law’s house. How’s that?”

  “Deal,” I say, kissing her neck. “Then we’re gonna do it all over this island today. And what better way to start the day than with sex on a bike?”

  “That’s a promise I’m gonna make you keep,” she coos back, turning in my arms so she can kiss my chin. Her blue eyes stare up at me with… trust.

  And I believe in that trust. I think I can make her happy. Give her the best life. A life she never had before me. Ease the pain of losing everything and give her something brand new.

  “I’ll pack up breakfast and then we’ll grab some real shoes from the house and see this island the way it’s supposed to be seen. Every inch of it. Together.”

  Chapter Nineteen - FIVE

  I’m peeking out from behind a palm frond to assess the situation on the pool deck. Rory is standing off to the side, biting her nails. Like she’s nervous our babies might fail.

  Shit, if I was worried about that I’d be all set. None of this sneaking around would be necessary. But there’s no way our babies will fail this test. Gonna ace it for sure. Gonna get into any goddamned school they want, no doubt. Gonna wanna move away and never come back.

  And for a moment, it’s not the idea of them getting hurt that bothers me. It’s the never coming back part… by choice.

  What if they go out there and fall in love with it? Make all kinds of new friends and Jesus, soon they’ll be wanting boyfriends and then jobs, and then college, and marriage and…

  Fuck that.

  I can’t deal. They’re just babies. My little princesses. How in the world did Spencer Shrike ever let his girls grow up? I can’t imagine it. Not even a little bit.

  I look at Rory and realize she is the spitting image of her mother when she was younger. Bombshells, both of them.

  And then I glance at my two girls sitting under the palapa, pencils in hand, furiously writing… and understand what growing up really means.

  They will be bombshells too. They will be beautiful, and alluring, and men will fall in love with them—the same way Spencer fell in love with Veronica and I fell in love with Rory.

  But it’s different. I’m my father’s son. Which means I’m one of us. Who will they fall in love with who can protect them the way I can? Who?

  There isn’t a single worthy man on this planet, let alone two of them. And then I wonder the same thing about Louise and Mathilda. Jesus Christ, what was I thinking bringing four princesses into this fucked-up world?

  I need to stop this before it starts. I don’t know what kind of future I want for them other then to be safe. And for as long as they’ve been alive, this place—this island—it’s been our haven. Our sanctuary. Our refuge. An oasis in the middle of turbulent global politics, and secret shadow governments, and assassins who don’t have a name, but a number.

  I need to convince Rory, that’s what I need to do. I’m almost sure Mysterious is gonna fuck up this job. He’s a mess about something. Probably afraid to get married and give up his exciting life as mastermind fixer.

  I almost laugh at that. Because Oliver is not happy about that little match-up at all. If the Vance-Shrike wedding falls apart before tomorrow he’ll probably celebrate.

  Point is, I can’t trust Paxton to get the job done. I need to go right to the woman in charge herself.

  My wife.

  An evil Five Aston plan creeps into my mind. Date day. My wife, who is still worriedly looking at our twins as they test as she bites her nails, just needs to be reminded that I know best.

  And I do.

  But I need to get her alone.

  So I creep around the edge of the pool deck, being careful to stay hidden in the palm fronds, and when I’m right behind her I stalk up, wrap my hand around her face, cup it tight over her mouth and say, “Come with me, queen. We’ve got a date planned.”

  I take her hand and lead her away. She’s still looking over her shoulder at the girls, but I tug a little and she turns back to me and smiles. “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see…”

  We haven’t been up this path in a long time. Maybe almost a year. Which makes me sad. Because we used to come up here at least once a week when we were younger. Before kids, and kitchen houses. When all we had was a little three-room house that wasn’t even close to the palace I imagined giving her all growing up.

  But Rory never complained. Ever. She loved our little house. And it’s still standing. We mostly use it for storage now. But it was our only home for several years while the main house and out buildings were being built. It took forever to get this island to the way it is now. Almost ten years because we did everything in stages and had to hire out locals from Nassau, transport them here, put them up in makeshift tent homes, and yeah… fucking hassle.

  She was a trooper through all of it.

  “I love you,” I say, looking over at her.

  “I love you too,” she says, smiling back at me.

  “No,” I say. “I mean… you’re everything to me, Rory. You and the girls. You’re all I ever wanted or needed.” I stop on the path, take her face in my hands, and kiss her. Long. Soft. Our tongues doing that little dance we’ve perfected over the years. “I love you.” I whisper it this time.

  “We’re not people,” she says, talking right into my mouth. Her words flirting with my tongue. “We’re made of moonlight, and twinkling stars, and the night.”

  I laugh, remembering the night I told her that. Just a small, sad laugh. “We’re perfectly matched. Your blue eyes.”

  “And your brown ones,” she says, finishing the promise we made to each other so long ago. “We’re soulmates, Five Aston.”

  “We are, Rory Aston.”

  She smiles big when I call her that. She’s not legally Mrs. Aston, but she’s always been mine, so that’s legal enough for me.

  “Come on,” I say, reluctantly pulling away. “We’ve got a date with paradise.”

  She knows where we’re going. This path only leads one place and that’s our secret place. But when it comes into view we both stop and look at it. Like we’ve never seen it before.

  The waterfall is large by island standards. And it never seems to stop falling. Ever. Like magic, it’s always there for us when we come. Of course, it has to stop sometimes. It’s made of rainwater in a pool at the top of the highest peak.

  But reality hides that little fact from us. So we refuse to believe it. It’s not really water, just like we’re not really people. It’s magic.

  “We haven’t been in here in a long time,” Rory says, echoing my earlier thought.

  “No,” I say. “We got busy, I guess. Forgot that magic lives here. But I want us to remember today.”

  She slips her tank top over her head, her eyes burning with the same desire I remember from our first summer together after I told her everything. She unclasps her bra, and that falls down onto the path with her shirt.

  I don’t need to stare at her breasts anymore. I see them all the time. They’re a part of me now. So I stare at her eyes. Because I can’t ever know enough about what’s behind those eyes. There is no memory that can replace the real thing when I look into her eyes.

  “Five,” she says, lifting up my shirt.

  I raise my arms and let her pull it ove
r my head.

  She doesn’t look at my chest. She looks right into my eyes. Just like I did her.

  “What?” I ask, wanting her to speak so bad. I always want to hear her voice. Even though I hear it every day. Have heard it every way.

  Her eyes dart back and forth to each of mine. Like she’s searching for something but she can’t find it.

  “What?” I ask again.

  But she shakes her head. Smiles. “I love you.”

  We jump into the pool of rainwater that never ends and go under. The water is clear. Not as clear as the ocean down below, but perfectly clear. Like everything else in this place. She takes my hand while we’re still under and then kicks her feet to swim.

  I follow, clinging to her fingertips like I’ll never let go. Like I can’t ever get close enough and she might slip away.

  We come up once. Just long enough to grab a breath of air and smile at each other. And then, like we’ve done this millions of times throughout eternity, we duck back under the water, letting the force of the waterfall pound our backs, and resurface inside the secret we’ve been hiding since we first found the magic here at the top of our personal paradise.

  She lets got of my hand and I have to sigh. Because I hate letting go. Even here, where no one and nothing can touch us. She places both hands on the flat, smooth slab of rock that reminds me so much of our rock along the spring behind Sparrow’s house it almost hurts, and lifts herself out of the water. Dripping. Her nipples peaking up from the coolness of the cave.

  I follow, and we stand there. The humidity enveloping us like a blanket. Making our skin prickle until a chill runs up our bodies and we shiver together.

  “God,” I say, taking her face in my hands again. “You’re so beautiful.”

  She lets out a long breath of air and says, “Fuck me.”

  “Gladly,” I say, pulling on the button of her shorts. She wiggles her hips until I can pull them over. They are wet and stick to her skin. But every moment is delicious.

  I feel her thighs. The taut muscles in her legs. And then brush my fingertips along the back of her knees.

  “Fuck me,” she says again. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.”

  She begins tugging on my shorts now too. The button. The zipper. She tugs them down my legs. Hard, impatient. Desperate.

  After all these years, she is still desperate for me.

  I lift her up and she wraps her arms and legs around me. Hugs me with every part of herself.

  And when I sit down on the flat, smooth rock, I’m already inside her. Her hips are already rocking. Her fingertips running across my scalp, tousling my hair. My fingertips pinching her nipples, making her gasp.

  And I do exactly what she told me to do. I fuck her.

  But it’s not fucking. It’s love.

  Chapter Twenty - MAC

  Ellie is blindfolded.

  I had to convince her to come away with me. She was hell-bent on staying up at the house to wait for Five’s twins to finish testing. But… well, I’m known for my creative ways into getting women to do what I want.

  Plus, she likes the blindfold game. We do it all the time.

  She stumbles a little as I lead her down the path to the marina. “I got you,” I say. And I do. She doesn’t fall.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Date day, remember?”

  “Oh, God.” But she laughs. So I know she likes my little surprise.

  When we get to the dock I help her up into Corporate’s boat, which is called Hidden Treasure—dumbass—and it’s not even a boat. Fucking small yacht is what it is.

  I pull Ellie’s blindfold down so she can see where we are.

  “We’re going somewhere?”

  “Not somewhere, Mrs. Perfect. We’re gonna have an adventure. West told me about some caves on an island nearby and we’re gonna go explore them.”

  She leans up on her tiptoes to kiss my lips. “You’re gonna spelunk me?”

  “Yeah.” I laugh with her. “I’m gonna spelunk the shit out of you. So just put on that bikini for the ride over…” I waggle my eyebrows at her. “Or not.” More waggling. “And relax. I got this, Eloise.”

  “Eloise.” She snorts. “You hardly ever call me that and this is the second time in two days. What’s up with you, Mr. Perfect?”

  “I like to surprise you. And I don’t do it enough, so today should be a day of surprises.”

  She slips her hands underneath my shirt and gazes up into my eyes. “Maybe I don’t like surprises.”

  “You do. Which is why our date day is gonna be nothing but new things. A constant stream of new things. A cornucopia of fun and whole lot of sexy times.”

  “Perfect,” she coos.

  “That’s Mr. Perfect to you.”

  She laughs and playfully pushes me away. “I’m gonna change. Make sure you ditch that shirt before I get back.”

  Yeah, I decide, watching her ass wiggle as she hops down the steps to the lounge area. I’m gonna remember this day, I think. An entire day alone with Ellie in paradise? Doing shit we never do? Perfect indeed.

  I press start on Corporate’s nav system and then walk into the galley to see what he’s got as far as drinks go. I spy a wine cooler under the counter and choose a bottle of champagne—why not do it up right, right?—and then grab two glasses from the cupboard, and some grapes from the fridge.

  “Mr. Perfect,” Ellie says behind me. “Why are you still dressed?”

  I turn around, opening my mouth to beg forgiveness, and then just let it hang there.

  She’s not in a bikini. She’s naked.

  “You look delicious.”

  “What are you doing?” she asks, eyeing the counter where all my delights are lined up. “I hope you’ve got butter in there.”

  I laugh. Like pretty loud. Then whip my shirt off and walk over to her, my hands on her hips, but just briefly, because they want to wander over the curve of her ass. “That was the best day ever. You know that?”

  “I dunno,” she whispers into my neck as I pull her close. “We’ve had some pretty good ones since then.”

  “Yeah, but you gotta admit, butter was a sick idea.”

  “Sick?” she says, feigning ignorance. “As in cool as fuck? Or as in you’re one twisted dude?”

  “Both,” I say, chuckling.

  “You blew my mind that day. In fact, you blow my mind every day, Mac. From the day I met you, I’ve been having fun.”

  “All the days?” I ask, hitching up one eyebrow.

  “Well, I missed you those couple of months we were apart while I was writing my book. But they were necessary. So I could figure things out.”

  “Like what?” I ask. “What did you figure out, Ellie?”

  “That you really are perfect. In every way. And I know I’ve been moody lately, and I’m sorry. I should appreciate you and all the good things in my life more. But it’s just a little overwhelming. I didn’t expect this, ya know? Look at Ivy.”

  “What about her?”

  “Well, she and Nolan didn’t even plan for a baby and yet they have a simply adorable little girl now. I feel… jealous. And then I feel guilty for feeling jealous because Ivy is one of my best friends. So… I don’t like it. Not at all. And I don’t like the feeling that something I really want might be a monumental struggle to achieve. And hard work and determination won’t be enough to overcome it. I want a baby, Mac. So bad, it hurts. I can’t explain it. And it probably doesn’t make sense to you—”

  “It does,” I say, brushing some hair away from her eyes. “But the universe knows what it’s doing, Ellie. Sometimes it likes to throw curve balls. Make life a struggle. So you can come out the other end and appreciate it more than you did before. We just gotta trust that things will turn out the way they’re supposed to.”

  She rests her head on my chest and I hug her tight. “I love you,” she says. “And I can’t wait to be your Mrs. tomorrow.”

  We just stand like that. Holding each other close and
enjoying the moment. And then I pull away and lift her up. She wraps her arms and legs around me as I walk us outside into the sunshine, and I place her down on the deck of the boat and just… look at her.

  She scissors her legs back and forth, blushing up at me. And then she opens them wide, and says, “Down here, Perfect. I need you right now, right here,” as she taps her pussy with her fingertips.

  Jesus. My wife-to-be is fuck hot.

  “Come on,” she urges. “Don’t be shy.”

  I laugh as I drop to my knees and crawl towards her. Then I reach for her knees, shoot her a devilish grin, and place both hands, palms down, on her thighs as I descend into her sweetness.

  Her back arches as I suck on her, flicking my tongue back and forth across her clit.

  “Mac,” she moans.

  “Ellie,” I whisper, making her arch her back again. She fists my hair and I look up from between her legs and watch her as I lick and suck her into ecstasy. I want to touch her everywhere at once. I want my cock deep inside her. I want to fuck her hard and soft at the same time. I just want… her. Forever.

  I pull back and she whines, “Noooo.” But then I’m kissing my way up her body. My lips fluttering against the smooth, tanned skin of her stomach. Both hands squeezing her breasts as I crawl up, and press my hard dick into her.

  “Take these off,” she says, tugging on my swim trunks.

  But fuck that. As soon as they’re down far enough to release my cock, I push into her. Sweep my arms under her back and hold her close to me as I go deeper.

  She moans, her hands wrapping around my back, her fingernails digging into my shoulders, leaving marks that I can’t wait to look at tomorrow. So I can remember this perfect day with my perfect wife.

  I prop myself up on my elbows so I can gaze down at her beautiful face and then I go slow. I push into her, deep. And pull out, almost all the way out. Until she grabs on to me just to make sure that doesn’t happen. Her legs wrap around my waist, holding me there, so I can’t pull out.